##Present 1994##
"Mac?" Richie asked as he heard someone come up the stairs.
"I thought you were asleep," Duncan said, coming in.
"Then why did you come up?"
"I heard the TV on; I came up to turn it off."
"Oh."
Duncan sat down on the edge of Richie's bed. "Still can't sleep?"
"No."
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?"
"What's there to talk about? Once again the legal system failed."
"Rich..."
"Seriously, Mac. That's all there is to it. The guy was a bastard and he got let off."
##Past 1992##
"Get up!"
Richie jerked awake so fast he hit his head on the bottom of the top bunk in his room.
"Come on, you little punk, get your ass out of bed!"
"What's going on?" Richie asked scrambling out from under the covers.
"You're social worker is going to be here in an hour. You have to get this place cleaned up."
Richie made his bed as quickly and neatly as possible before going out into the living room to throw away the beer bottles and any evidence of anything illegal that may have taken place the night before.
"Don't forget to take out the trash when you take out your dog," Jonathan reminded him as Richie emptied the dishwasher.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Excuse me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Put on your nice clothes before you go out."
"Yes, sir."
Richie went back into his room and opened the drawer that held the clothes he wasn't allowed to wear unless Jonathan told him he could, which meant only when Richie's social worker came over. He took out the least wrinkled shirt he could find and put it on.
He went over and checked Max's food and water before leaving his room to take the dog and the trash out. He ran into Connie Mankin, his social worker, on his way back up to the apartment.
"Richie, I trust you've been staying out of trouble," she droned as they walked down the hall.
"Yes."
"And how are you getting along with Mr. Cooper?"
Richie rolled his eyes. 'Like you care,' he thought. "Same as always."
"You haven't been bothering him, have you?"
"Of course not. He hardly even notices I'm here."
"You have a smug attitude, Richie."
"He's not that bad," Jonathan said opening the apartment door. "He may deserve a light smack every now and then, but he's a decent kid." He smiled down at Richie.
"I heard he got arrested last week," Connie said. "Breaking and entering, I believe."
"He was lucky; the store owner let him off. The cops brought him home safe and sound." He put a strong arm around Richie's shoulders. "We had a little talk after that, didn't we, kiddo?"
"Yes, sir. Couldn't sit for days."
"No less than you deserved, I'm sure." Connie sighed and glanced around the living room. "Just let me look around and I'll be out of here."
She made a less than through inspection of the apartment before saying good bye and seeing herself out.
Jonathan kept his arm around Richie's narrow shoulders the entire time.
"That was a good visit," he said, tightening his grip. "And next time, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
"I didn't say anything!"
"Couldn't sit for days? Just what were you trying to imply there?"
"It was just a joke."
"I suggest you change you sense of humor. Go put your clothes away, then get out of here."
"I got somewhere to go, anyway," Richie mumbled walking to his room.
"Where do you have to go?" Jonathan demanded following him.
"A friend's house."
"You have a friend?"
"Yeah." Richie tossed his shirt into the drawer.
"Fold that the right way."
Richie folded his shirt and his good jeans before pulling the jeans he wore everyday out from under his bed.
"I thought I told you to clean up!" Jonathan grabbed the jeans out of his hands. The change along with the twenty dollars Duncan had given him the night before fell out of the pocket. "What is that?"
"Money."
"Pick that up and give it to me." Richie bent down and picked up the bills and change. Jonathan hit him in the back of the head as he stood back up then took the money. "Where did you get this?"
"I earned it."
"Doing what?"
"Workin'."
Jonathan grabbed him around the neck. "Doing what?"
"Helping a friend."
"Stealing, you mean."
"No! I didn't steal anything!"
"You little whore," Jonathan sneered. "Do you have any idea who could have seen you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You really could have put our special little deal in jeopardy." He grabbed Richie by the back of the neck. "I don't care what you do, just so long as I can't get blamed for it. You go ripping people off, it ain't my fault. You go screwing perfect strangers for money; it's my ass on the line."
"I wasn't doing that!"
"Sure you weren't. It's all you'll ever amount to. You sit your horny little butt down. You ain't going anywhere today."
"I told my friend I'd be there. He owns a store!"
"They're called stables." He shoved him down on the floor in front of his desk. "And if you don't stay right there until I say otherwise, you'll regret it."
Richie sat on the floor and stared across the room at the hockey poster on the wall. Jonathan had bought it and put it up when he slammed Richie into the wall so hard he dented it. Max came over and put his head in Richie's lap with a soft whine.
"I know, boy." He scratched to dog behind the ears. "Just a bit longer. When I get out of here, I'm taking you with me. We'll figure something out."
"Shut up in there!" Jonathan yelled.
Richie sighed and leaned back against the drawers. Max stood up and licked Richie's chin before crawling completely into his lap and lying down.
"Ya dumb mutt," Richie grumbled fondly.
Jonathan didn't come into his room again until six o'clock when he told Richie to go to bed. Jonathan was staggering and speaking louder than usual, so without a word, Richie did as he was told. Around nine, Richie peeked into the living room and found his foster father dead asleep on the couch. He snuck out into the park behind the building to let Max do his thing before sneaking back in and trying to get some sleep.
##Present 1994##
Apparently, having fallen asleep at one point during the night, Richie woke up the next morning. Determined to put his crappy mood behind him he got up and went to go take a shower.
"You're up earlier than I expected," Duncan said looking up from the couch as Richie padded down the stairs. "Did you get any sleep?"
"Yeah, I'm great," Richie told him with enthusiasm.
"Somebody's in a better mood."
"I am determined not to let this get me down, Mac."
"And what brought this on?"
Richie shrugged. "Its like you and Tessa said. It happened, but it's over. So I don't have to worry about it anymore."
"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?"
"Pretty much."
"That should be interesting."
"It's what we've always done, Mac. And it's always worked."
Duncan got up and went into the kitchen. "Maybe that's why this is so hard on you now."
Richie followed. "Mac, the whole situation sucks, but what are you gonna do about it?"
"Talk."
"I already have talked about it, Mac. In a room full of strangers."
"Richie..."
"Thanks for ruining my good mood, Mac. I'm gonna take a shower." He went into the bathroom and turned on the water to as hot as his skin could stand. He was stiff and a little sore. It had been a lot easier when his had consisted of repressed memories. Now he couldn't make his mind stay in the present.
##Past 1992##
Richie walked stiffly to the store and knocked on the back door. Duncan opened it almost instantly.
"I was hoping you'd come by toady. What happened yesterday?"
"Um..."
"What happened to your neck?" Duncan asked spotting the bruises that Richie had tried to hide by putting up the collar of this jacket.
"That's why I wasn't here... I fell."
"Fell?"
"Yeah, see...I was taking my dog out and my foot got tangled in the leash and I fell down some stairs."
"Are you okay?"
"Just a little banged up."
Duncan squatted a bit so they were eye to eye. "Richie, the other day you told me your dad was a little harsh with you. Did he have anything to do with this?"
"No!" the teen quickly insisted. "I just fell. That's all."
"Okay, I believe you."
"I'm not lying, honest."
Duncan smiled. "You don't have to swear to me, Richie. If you tell me something, I'll believe you, simple as that."
"Oh." Richie didn't look as if he were quite sure what to make of such open trust.
"Well, I wasn't really up for working today," Duncan started.
"Oh...I'll just go, then."
"I was hoping you'd just keep me company."
Richie perked up a bit. "Really?"
"Yeah. We can grill some burgers on the roof for lunch."
"The roof?"
"You never grilled on the roof before?" Duncan asked.
"No."
"Well, why don't you come up and have a little breakfast and then we'll go shopping for lunch."
After a big bowl of oatmeal with sliced bananas, Duncan sat down to teach Richie how to play chess.
"I don't get it," Richie said for the fifth time.
Duncan smiled patiently and explained the rules again. Richie shook his head with a rueful smile.
"Do you know how to play checkers?"
"No," Duncan lied. "I've always wanted to learn though."
Eleven thirty rolled around and they got in the car and headed to the grocery store.
"Do you like burgers or hot dogs?" Duncan asked as he walked next to Richie who was pushing the currently empty cart.
"Cheeseburgers."
"Cheeseburgers it is."
They bought ground beef, cheese slices, hamburger buns, pickles, tomatoes, potato chips, carrots and broccoli. To keep Richie from straining any hurt muscles, Duncan sent him to get plates and napkins ready to take to the roof while he brought in the groceries.
They set up a card table on the roof. Richie set to work cutting tomatoes and onions while Duncan started the fire in the gas grill.
"How do you like your burgers done?" he asked.
"Well done."
"Me too."
Richie wondered over to the grill and hung over Duncan's shoulder watching him grill.
"How do you know when they're done?"
"See that thermometer on the table?"
Richie went over to get the digital meat thermometer. "Now what?"
"Stick it in the middle of one." Richie did so. "Hold it until it beeps." It beeped. "What does it say?"
"Medium rare."
"Still have to cook then."
Richie hovered by the grill for a minute. "Anything else I can do?"
Duncan looked around. "You know what we forgot? Drinks. Why don't you go down and make some lemonade. There's lemon juice in the fridge and sugar's in on the counter in the ceramic container."
"Okay. I can do that."
"Perfect. Oh, and there's a tray in the cabinet at the end of the island. You can carry up a couple glasses and the pitcher on that."
Richie smiled. "Okay." He started down the stairs but stopped. "I think your phone is ringing."
"Okay, you take care of this, I'll do the drinks." Duncan handed off the spatula as he passed.
"What do I do?"
"Just wait until the thermometer says medium then flip them over until they're done!" he called as he trotted down the stairs. "MacLeod," he grabbed the cordless, out of breath.
"Duncan?"
"Tessa! How are you?"
"You sound out of breath."
"I was on the roof making lunch for us."
"Us?" Tessa asked.
"Oh, I haven't had a chance to tell you about Richie yet."
"Richie? Should I be jealous?"
Duncan smiled into the phone. "I don't know...I do have a thing for blondes. But seventeen year old boys aren't really my style."
"Who is he, Duncan?"
"He is just a boy who's been helping me around the store. Doing the cleaning up and what not."
"Where did you find him?"
"Well, I ran into him one night I couldn't sleep. He's the boy who broke in last week."
"What? Duncan you let him back into our home?"
"Tess, his parents had locked him out for the night. I couldn't leave him on the streets."
"Mac! The thing says medium!" Richie yelled down the stairs.
Duncan covered the microphone of the phone. "Flip them over with the spatula!" he yelled back. "What was I supposed to do, Tess?"
Tessa sighed. "Have you at least been keeping a close eye on him?"
"He's clean. He seems really happy to have a job."
"Fine," she sighed. "I'm coming home on Saturday. I sold the statue; he's just deciding if he wants another."
"MAC! THEY'RE ON FIRE!"
"That really is great, Tess, but we're having a slight emergency right now. I'll call you back." He tossed the phone down and took the stairs to the roof three at a time.
Richie was standing on the roof panicking in front of the grill.
"Move!" Duncan barked, shoving the teen aside. He slammed the lid down and turned off the gas. "Are you okay?" he asked turning back around.
"I-I-I...I don't know what happened. I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, Rich. It's not your fault. Whatever happened was an accident. The important thing is you're not hurt."
"But all that meat. The grill...it had to be expensive."
Duncan smiled and put a hand on Richie's shoulder. "That's not a problem. Whatever it costs it's a lot less than if you had been hurt."
Richie looked at him oddly. "You're not mad?"
"No, Rich. I can't be mad at you for an accident."
"Oh..."
"Now, why don't we check on those burgers?"
He turned around and carefully opened the grill lid. The fire was out. He took the meat off the grill and put it on a plate. "Check and see if they're done."
"Does this thing have a burnt reading?" Richie asked picking up the thermometer.
"Just see."
Richie looked up from the read out with a smile. "It says well done."
Duncan smiled back. "Give one a taste."
Richie grabbed a fork off the table and cut into one. "Not bad."
"Good. Then let's eat." Duncan started over to the table, Richie trailing behind. "Oh, we still don't have drinks."
"I'll do it," Richie offered starting to get up.
"No, no. You start eating; I'll be back in two minutes."
When Duncan got back, Richie had put together his cheeseburger, served himself some chips and fresh veggies, but hadn't eaten anything.
"Eat, Rich, you don't want your food to get cold, do you?"
"I was waiting for you."
Duncan smiled at him and put a glass of lemonade in front of him. "Well, I' m here now, so eat."
Richie started in on his chips. "I am sorry about the grill. If there's any damage, I'll pay you back."
"You can't have done any more damage than I did."
Richie cocked his head to one side. "What?"
"Two years ago I was making chicken for Tessa and some of our friends up here. We were having a party. Well, whatever happened to you must have happened to me, because I turn for one second and the whole thing goes up in flames."
"What happened?"
"I closed the lid and turned off the gas. After a few minutes, I opened it back up, but the fire had melted the hinges. It flops over and the chicken that was on the tiered shelves went flying over the side of the building and into the alley."
Riche burst out laughing. "You're lyin'!"
"Ask the alley cats, they still get excited when they smell me grilling."
Richie was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Duncan smiled. So he had stretched the truth a little bit. The chicken had merely fallen onto the roof. But he got Richie laughing and it had been the first time the kid had seemed really comfortable and happy. Now all he had to do was get the boy comfortable with him to tell him where he really was the day before.
"Mac?" Richie asked as he heard someone come up the stairs.
"I thought you were asleep," Duncan said, coming in.
"Then why did you come up?"
"I heard the TV on; I came up to turn it off."
"Oh."
Duncan sat down on the edge of Richie's bed. "Still can't sleep?"
"No."
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?"
"What's there to talk about? Once again the legal system failed."
"Rich..."
"Seriously, Mac. That's all there is to it. The guy was a bastard and he got let off."
##Past 1992##
"Get up!"
Richie jerked awake so fast he hit his head on the bottom of the top bunk in his room.
"Come on, you little punk, get your ass out of bed!"
"What's going on?" Richie asked scrambling out from under the covers.
"You're social worker is going to be here in an hour. You have to get this place cleaned up."
Richie made his bed as quickly and neatly as possible before going out into the living room to throw away the beer bottles and any evidence of anything illegal that may have taken place the night before.
"Don't forget to take out the trash when you take out your dog," Jonathan reminded him as Richie emptied the dishwasher.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Excuse me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Put on your nice clothes before you go out."
"Yes, sir."
Richie went back into his room and opened the drawer that held the clothes he wasn't allowed to wear unless Jonathan told him he could, which meant only when Richie's social worker came over. He took out the least wrinkled shirt he could find and put it on.
He went over and checked Max's food and water before leaving his room to take the dog and the trash out. He ran into Connie Mankin, his social worker, on his way back up to the apartment.
"Richie, I trust you've been staying out of trouble," she droned as they walked down the hall.
"Yes."
"And how are you getting along with Mr. Cooper?"
Richie rolled his eyes. 'Like you care,' he thought. "Same as always."
"You haven't been bothering him, have you?"
"Of course not. He hardly even notices I'm here."
"You have a smug attitude, Richie."
"He's not that bad," Jonathan said opening the apartment door. "He may deserve a light smack every now and then, but he's a decent kid." He smiled down at Richie.
"I heard he got arrested last week," Connie said. "Breaking and entering, I believe."
"He was lucky; the store owner let him off. The cops brought him home safe and sound." He put a strong arm around Richie's shoulders. "We had a little talk after that, didn't we, kiddo?"
"Yes, sir. Couldn't sit for days."
"No less than you deserved, I'm sure." Connie sighed and glanced around the living room. "Just let me look around and I'll be out of here."
She made a less than through inspection of the apartment before saying good bye and seeing herself out.
Jonathan kept his arm around Richie's narrow shoulders the entire time.
"That was a good visit," he said, tightening his grip. "And next time, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
"I didn't say anything!"
"Couldn't sit for days? Just what were you trying to imply there?"
"It was just a joke."
"I suggest you change you sense of humor. Go put your clothes away, then get out of here."
"I got somewhere to go, anyway," Richie mumbled walking to his room.
"Where do you have to go?" Jonathan demanded following him.
"A friend's house."
"You have a friend?"
"Yeah." Richie tossed his shirt into the drawer.
"Fold that the right way."
Richie folded his shirt and his good jeans before pulling the jeans he wore everyday out from under his bed.
"I thought I told you to clean up!" Jonathan grabbed the jeans out of his hands. The change along with the twenty dollars Duncan had given him the night before fell out of the pocket. "What is that?"
"Money."
"Pick that up and give it to me." Richie bent down and picked up the bills and change. Jonathan hit him in the back of the head as he stood back up then took the money. "Where did you get this?"
"I earned it."
"Doing what?"
"Workin'."
Jonathan grabbed him around the neck. "Doing what?"
"Helping a friend."
"Stealing, you mean."
"No! I didn't steal anything!"
"You little whore," Jonathan sneered. "Do you have any idea who could have seen you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You really could have put our special little deal in jeopardy." He grabbed Richie by the back of the neck. "I don't care what you do, just so long as I can't get blamed for it. You go ripping people off, it ain't my fault. You go screwing perfect strangers for money; it's my ass on the line."
"I wasn't doing that!"
"Sure you weren't. It's all you'll ever amount to. You sit your horny little butt down. You ain't going anywhere today."
"I told my friend I'd be there. He owns a store!"
"They're called stables." He shoved him down on the floor in front of his desk. "And if you don't stay right there until I say otherwise, you'll regret it."
Richie sat on the floor and stared across the room at the hockey poster on the wall. Jonathan had bought it and put it up when he slammed Richie into the wall so hard he dented it. Max came over and put his head in Richie's lap with a soft whine.
"I know, boy." He scratched to dog behind the ears. "Just a bit longer. When I get out of here, I'm taking you with me. We'll figure something out."
"Shut up in there!" Jonathan yelled.
Richie sighed and leaned back against the drawers. Max stood up and licked Richie's chin before crawling completely into his lap and lying down.
"Ya dumb mutt," Richie grumbled fondly.
Jonathan didn't come into his room again until six o'clock when he told Richie to go to bed. Jonathan was staggering and speaking louder than usual, so without a word, Richie did as he was told. Around nine, Richie peeked into the living room and found his foster father dead asleep on the couch. He snuck out into the park behind the building to let Max do his thing before sneaking back in and trying to get some sleep.
##Present 1994##
Apparently, having fallen asleep at one point during the night, Richie woke up the next morning. Determined to put his crappy mood behind him he got up and went to go take a shower.
"You're up earlier than I expected," Duncan said looking up from the couch as Richie padded down the stairs. "Did you get any sleep?"
"Yeah, I'm great," Richie told him with enthusiasm.
"Somebody's in a better mood."
"I am determined not to let this get me down, Mac."
"And what brought this on?"
Richie shrugged. "Its like you and Tessa said. It happened, but it's over. So I don't have to worry about it anymore."
"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?"
"Pretty much."
"That should be interesting."
"It's what we've always done, Mac. And it's always worked."
Duncan got up and went into the kitchen. "Maybe that's why this is so hard on you now."
Richie followed. "Mac, the whole situation sucks, but what are you gonna do about it?"
"Talk."
"I already have talked about it, Mac. In a room full of strangers."
"Richie..."
"Thanks for ruining my good mood, Mac. I'm gonna take a shower." He went into the bathroom and turned on the water to as hot as his skin could stand. He was stiff and a little sore. It had been a lot easier when his had consisted of repressed memories. Now he couldn't make his mind stay in the present.
##Past 1992##
Richie walked stiffly to the store and knocked on the back door. Duncan opened it almost instantly.
"I was hoping you'd come by toady. What happened yesterday?"
"Um..."
"What happened to your neck?" Duncan asked spotting the bruises that Richie had tried to hide by putting up the collar of this jacket.
"That's why I wasn't here... I fell."
"Fell?"
"Yeah, see...I was taking my dog out and my foot got tangled in the leash and I fell down some stairs."
"Are you okay?"
"Just a little banged up."
Duncan squatted a bit so they were eye to eye. "Richie, the other day you told me your dad was a little harsh with you. Did he have anything to do with this?"
"No!" the teen quickly insisted. "I just fell. That's all."
"Okay, I believe you."
"I'm not lying, honest."
Duncan smiled. "You don't have to swear to me, Richie. If you tell me something, I'll believe you, simple as that."
"Oh." Richie didn't look as if he were quite sure what to make of such open trust.
"Well, I wasn't really up for working today," Duncan started.
"Oh...I'll just go, then."
"I was hoping you'd just keep me company."
Richie perked up a bit. "Really?"
"Yeah. We can grill some burgers on the roof for lunch."
"The roof?"
"You never grilled on the roof before?" Duncan asked.
"No."
"Well, why don't you come up and have a little breakfast and then we'll go shopping for lunch."
After a big bowl of oatmeal with sliced bananas, Duncan sat down to teach Richie how to play chess.
"I don't get it," Richie said for the fifth time.
Duncan smiled patiently and explained the rules again. Richie shook his head with a rueful smile.
"Do you know how to play checkers?"
"No," Duncan lied. "I've always wanted to learn though."
Eleven thirty rolled around and they got in the car and headed to the grocery store.
"Do you like burgers or hot dogs?" Duncan asked as he walked next to Richie who was pushing the currently empty cart.
"Cheeseburgers."
"Cheeseburgers it is."
They bought ground beef, cheese slices, hamburger buns, pickles, tomatoes, potato chips, carrots and broccoli. To keep Richie from straining any hurt muscles, Duncan sent him to get plates and napkins ready to take to the roof while he brought in the groceries.
They set up a card table on the roof. Richie set to work cutting tomatoes and onions while Duncan started the fire in the gas grill.
"How do you like your burgers done?" he asked.
"Well done."
"Me too."
Richie wondered over to the grill and hung over Duncan's shoulder watching him grill.
"How do you know when they're done?"
"See that thermometer on the table?"
Richie went over to get the digital meat thermometer. "Now what?"
"Stick it in the middle of one." Richie did so. "Hold it until it beeps." It beeped. "What does it say?"
"Medium rare."
"Still have to cook then."
Richie hovered by the grill for a minute. "Anything else I can do?"
Duncan looked around. "You know what we forgot? Drinks. Why don't you go down and make some lemonade. There's lemon juice in the fridge and sugar's in on the counter in the ceramic container."
"Okay. I can do that."
"Perfect. Oh, and there's a tray in the cabinet at the end of the island. You can carry up a couple glasses and the pitcher on that."
Richie smiled. "Okay." He started down the stairs but stopped. "I think your phone is ringing."
"Okay, you take care of this, I'll do the drinks." Duncan handed off the spatula as he passed.
"What do I do?"
"Just wait until the thermometer says medium then flip them over until they're done!" he called as he trotted down the stairs. "MacLeod," he grabbed the cordless, out of breath.
"Duncan?"
"Tessa! How are you?"
"You sound out of breath."
"I was on the roof making lunch for us."
"Us?" Tessa asked.
"Oh, I haven't had a chance to tell you about Richie yet."
"Richie? Should I be jealous?"
Duncan smiled into the phone. "I don't know...I do have a thing for blondes. But seventeen year old boys aren't really my style."
"Who is he, Duncan?"
"He is just a boy who's been helping me around the store. Doing the cleaning up and what not."
"Where did you find him?"
"Well, I ran into him one night I couldn't sleep. He's the boy who broke in last week."
"What? Duncan you let him back into our home?"
"Tess, his parents had locked him out for the night. I couldn't leave him on the streets."
"Mac! The thing says medium!" Richie yelled down the stairs.
Duncan covered the microphone of the phone. "Flip them over with the spatula!" he yelled back. "What was I supposed to do, Tess?"
Tessa sighed. "Have you at least been keeping a close eye on him?"
"He's clean. He seems really happy to have a job."
"Fine," she sighed. "I'm coming home on Saturday. I sold the statue; he's just deciding if he wants another."
"MAC! THEY'RE ON FIRE!"
"That really is great, Tess, but we're having a slight emergency right now. I'll call you back." He tossed the phone down and took the stairs to the roof three at a time.
Richie was standing on the roof panicking in front of the grill.
"Move!" Duncan barked, shoving the teen aside. He slammed the lid down and turned off the gas. "Are you okay?" he asked turning back around.
"I-I-I...I don't know what happened. I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, Rich. It's not your fault. Whatever happened was an accident. The important thing is you're not hurt."
"But all that meat. The grill...it had to be expensive."
Duncan smiled and put a hand on Richie's shoulder. "That's not a problem. Whatever it costs it's a lot less than if you had been hurt."
Richie looked at him oddly. "You're not mad?"
"No, Rich. I can't be mad at you for an accident."
"Oh..."
"Now, why don't we check on those burgers?"
He turned around and carefully opened the grill lid. The fire was out. He took the meat off the grill and put it on a plate. "Check and see if they're done."
"Does this thing have a burnt reading?" Richie asked picking up the thermometer.
"Just see."
Richie looked up from the read out with a smile. "It says well done."
Duncan smiled back. "Give one a taste."
Richie grabbed a fork off the table and cut into one. "Not bad."
"Good. Then let's eat." Duncan started over to the table, Richie trailing behind. "Oh, we still don't have drinks."
"I'll do it," Richie offered starting to get up.
"No, no. You start eating; I'll be back in two minutes."
When Duncan got back, Richie had put together his cheeseburger, served himself some chips and fresh veggies, but hadn't eaten anything.
"Eat, Rich, you don't want your food to get cold, do you?"
"I was waiting for you."
Duncan smiled at him and put a glass of lemonade in front of him. "Well, I' m here now, so eat."
Richie started in on his chips. "I am sorry about the grill. If there's any damage, I'll pay you back."
"You can't have done any more damage than I did."
Richie cocked his head to one side. "What?"
"Two years ago I was making chicken for Tessa and some of our friends up here. We were having a party. Well, whatever happened to you must have happened to me, because I turn for one second and the whole thing goes up in flames."
"What happened?"
"I closed the lid and turned off the gas. After a few minutes, I opened it back up, but the fire had melted the hinges. It flops over and the chicken that was on the tiered shelves went flying over the side of the building and into the alley."
Riche burst out laughing. "You're lyin'!"
"Ask the alley cats, they still get excited when they smell me grilling."
Richie was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Duncan smiled. So he had stretched the truth a little bit. The chicken had merely fallen onto the roof. But he got Richie laughing and it had been the first time the kid had seemed really comfortable and happy. Now all he had to do was get the boy comfortable with him to tell him where he really was the day before.