Where Did the Time Go? : Part IV
I can do this.
I can bake a cake that tastes like a chocolate cloud.
I can ace a geometry test even though I don't have a head for math!
I can do this. Really, I can!
Ron stared into this dresser mirror, trying to understand what he was doing wrong. It didn't make sense to him though it was supposed to be really simple. All he had to do was nod at his little buddy Rufus and he would be on his shoulder helping him. He simply didn't want to do that. For once, he wanted to accomplish this on his own.
Why was he having a serious feeling of déjà vu?
Letting out a sigh he unbuttoned the tips of his white collar and turned them up. The neck button was already fastened, but that was the easy part. He actually hated wearing shirts this way, They felt too tight on his throat even though the neck was the correct size. It wouldn't even matter if he bought shirts an inch or two big, he'd still feel confined with the collar done up.
Flip and twist and fold and pull. He looked in the mirror at his handiwork. Well, it looked a lot more like a knot, kind of like what was called a square knot. Only he'd been going for a more fashion forward half-Windsor. Well, close enough, only the top was going to show over his jacket anyhow.
No, this just wouldn't do. The back was far longer than the front and that was only down to the middle of his chest. Growling slightly he undid his tie once more.
Rufus sat on the edge of his dresser, looking up at his human proudly. This day could be the culmination of so much effort. Sure, there was still graduation to get to, but this was the first step in what would come after. If he could succeed today, he would be on his way to true manhood and, in his own mind, become more worthy of the woman who loved him.
In his case it was actually quite a big accomplishment. There were times when it was very likely this day would either never come or would be relegated to the local community college at best. There had been a real scare the first time he had taken the SATs during his junior year, but some serious study and some even more serious boosts to his ego and confidence had made a huge difference. His scores were still a little on the average side, but they were enough to get him in the door.
Now it was up to him to make the difference.
If he could only tie that blasted knot correctly!
The little Naked Mole Rat sat there, knowing Ron had to do this himself. He understood that. It was fine when he climbed up there and helped him get ready for Temple once he decided he had outgrown clip-ons, but this was different. Completely different.
"I can go this, little buddy." He said, wrapping his tie around the back of his neck again. Rufus just held up a claw in an approximation of a thumbs-up sign.
Would I be weird if I pointed it out that Naked Mole Rats are not supposed to have opposable digits? He thought with a slight chuckle. Then he laughed out loud, remembering one of the first things his beloved had ever said to him. "You're weird, but I like you." He sighed again and made another go at the knot. This time the it came out looking right, though the length was even worse than before. The tail of the tie was hanging way down past his belt.
He looked down and noticed Rufus was holding a book open. It was instructions for tying a neck-tie. Sure, he could easily read what was written there, but the instructions just didn't jibe with the way his brain worked.
This was supposed to be easy. Easier than tying a bow-tie.
He had to smile about that. The last time he had worn a bow tie was their Junior Prom. That was the beginning. That's when they kissed. That's when they first told each other what they had been holding inside for so long. That's when they told each other "I love you."
This time when he looked in the mirror he had the length right, but the knot looked, well, afflicted was the word kids would use for it. To him it just looked corrupt. It wasn't even qualified to be the acceptable messy knot, the loose square he managed earlier. No, he wanted to look good. The tie was a nice bright one, a design made by a famous muscician before he passed away some years ago. His shirt was bright blue with white French cuffs and collar. His dark slacks were brand new with a fresh crease and his freshly polished dress shoes could have been used as a mirror. He was going to look right for this. He did it, mostly on his own and it was going to be done correctly.
He tried one last time for the tie. This time, though, strong feminine fingers reached around his neck and started guiding his hands. In a few deft moves the tie finally came together with a nice solid but narrow knot and the length just right. Those slender fingers tucked the tail into the tag so it wouldn't flop around behind the front and smoothed it on his chest.
"There." Kim said, her palms lingering on his chest for a moment. "My little man looks sooooo good all dressed up."
"Little man?" he repeated. "KP, that sounds just like my mother."
"I know. That's why I said it. Boys are supposed to find women just like their mothers anyway, so why not?"
"Why not?" He laughed, "Cause whoever first said that was sick and wrong. You are so not my Mom."
Kim picked up a pair of glasses off his desk. He needed them on rare occasions when he was tired and his stigmatism made reading a little more difficult. Sometime in the future he was going to have to wear them, probably full-time just like his parents, though a bit of vanity in him wanted to delay that as long as possible.
She slipped them on. They made her already huge green eyes look even bigger, though the prescription was very mild. With one hand she reached behind her head and gathered her hair together, making it seem a little shorter. It was clear she was mimicking his mother, though she wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"For that, I'm not going to kiss you." He said, sitting on his bed to check his shoes one more time.
Kim sat down beside him, opening her purse. She pulled out two nineteen-ninety two pennies. The were shiny on the outer edges, but tarnished in the middle.
"What are those, KP?"
"These are for luck. I had them in my penny loafers on the luckiest day of my life. Daddy put them in my shoes that morning, though they were shiny and new then."
"Okay, that's sweet and all, but my shoes aren't penny loafers."
She nuzzled his ear as she pulled his battered old wallet out of his back pocket. Normally, she would have been embarrassed if he pulled something that bedraggled from his pocket, especially when he was dressed as nicely as he was now but she knew his Grandfather had given him that just a few months before he passed away. Ron would likely carry that wallet until it absolutely fell apart and even then Kim figured she would find a way to stitch parts of it into a new one.
She tucked the two pennies deep into an unused pocket. Ron only kept his drivers license, student ID and an ATM card in there since most of the time he had cash it spent wadded up in his front pockets instead. "There, now you won't get them mixed up with your regular change." She folded the old leather back down and returned it to his pocket, letting her hand linger there for a moment.
"Mmmm, I like what they did you to at Yamanuchi." Kim purred. "Tighter buns in thirty days."
"He takes after his father." Jean Stoppable said as she stepped into the room to take a look at her freshly dressed and groomed son. I nice dress shirt and slapped on tie was what she got to see when they actually got the boy to go to Temple (which had been a great deal more regularly since he had been going with Kim every other week.)
Kim turned bright crimson, her hands instantly snapping into her lap.
"Oh, Kim, don't mind me. If you weren't admiring his backside I'd have to wonder what was wrong with you. Even I noticed how good it looked when he came back from Japan."
"Mom!" Ron squeaked.
"Oh hush you." She said as she gathered up some of his dirty clothes. "Can't a mother be proud her boy is finally turning into a man."
"A man with a nice tight…" Kim giggled, enjoying the chance to make Ron blush, which he was doing quite nicely.
"See, this is why I think of your girlfriend as an honorary Nice Jewish Girl, Ronnie. She knows what's really important. She's got to have a good man who is true, who is good to her and who has a really nice butt."
By that point Ron was shielding his eyes behind his large hands, looking like he was about to crawl under the bed. Two women discussing the shape and consistency of his gluteus maximus, especially one of them being his mother, was just a bit too much for him to take.
"Have you had breakfast, Kim?"
"Yes Ma'am, Mrs. Stoppable. Mom about won't let me out of the house unless I eat."
"Well, if you want anything, I've got bagels and jam and I've got a fresh pot of coffee on. It's Hazelnut."
"Please and thank you." She got up to follow the elder Stoppable downstairs. "Come on, Ron, you need something in your stomach. If you're hungry, your nerves will just make it worse."
"Oh, I don't know, KP. When Mom doe's schmeer she doesn't kid around. Don't want all those calories to go right to my butt." For emphasis he waggled that particular body part.
"Quit playing around, Mr. Atlas. I've seen you eat enough Nacos in one sitting to feed a family of four for a week." She grabbed his tie and gently pulled him along. Rufus hopped off the chest of drawers and trotted right after them.
Ron's mind seemed to be everywhere at once, though peculiarly it wasn't on the interview he was going to. Instead it seemed focused to the odd feeling he had while he was getting dressed. Bits and pieces of some half-remembered dream filtered back to him, troubling him. Most of all he could remember the desperate sadness that permeated the memory, a sadness his logical, awake mind just couldn't comprehend.
He watched as Kim munched on half a toasted bagel covered in a thin layer of cream cheese. Besides the occasional potato pancakes, this was the most Jewish their diet ever got, and the bagels had much more to do with being easy to deal with than any part of a kosher diet. If he restricted himself strictly to allowed foods, he would likely shrivel up and blow away.
"Kim, when we get into college, do you think you might be attracted to, well, there'll be a lot of guys who're older and smarter and…"
"Ron. No. Well, yes I'll be attracted but no, I don't care what they look like because I've already got the most attractive guy."
"Thanks, Kim. I know you're just saying that because you love me."
"Ron, look at me. Come on, look right at me." She locked her green eyes into his. "Yes, I'm saying that because I love you, but I'm also saying it because I've come to think of your face as the most beautiful I've ever seen. I saw your face every day you were gone and I counted the days until you were back and it's your face I was looking for in the airport." She got up and lightly sat on his leg, putting her hand gently on his cheek. "Your having a spankin bod now is a bonus." She whispered. Jean obviously overheard, as she was grinning from ear to ear but she otherwise ignored the two lovebirds.
Ron excused himself and headed upstairs. Soon they'd have to leave so Ron could drop Kim off at school. He'd been excused for the first half of the day for the interview.
"Poor Ronnie. Just like his father with the nervous bladder." Jean shook her head as she took Kim's empty plate.
"That's funny, cause when we're on missions he can go hours at a time without a break. Unless I mention it, then he's got to find a place quick."
Jean nodded and topped off Kim's coffee. She still couldn't understand how a girl her age preferred her java plain and black. She sat down and started pouring sugar and half-n-half into her own cup. "Kim, you don't know how terribly sorry I am for the things I said last summer."
"Mrs. Stoppable, it's no big…really. To be honest, before I realized how much Ron meant to me, it really might have been true."
"It's not now. I can see that." She leaned close for a whisper, "That's what that Honorary Nice Jewish girl crack was about. I used to think that was important for him. Turns out the only one that would have been important about is for me. Now, if you ever wanted to convert, then that would be nice, but you don't have to. Not on my account at least."
"Well. I have thought about it a little. Haven't seriously considered it, but I have thought about it. The Rabbi talked about it a little bit when we were talking about our different faiths."
"Um hmm. That sounds like Gerry. He really likes you kids. Now, his wife, when Phoebe starts dating, let me tell you, if that boy isn't Jewish she's going to be hell on wheels."
"Uh oh." Kim giggled.
"Uh oh what?" She asked, taking a gulp of her coffee.
It was Kim's turn to lean in for a conspiratorial whisper. "Brian goes to my church."
Both Jean's eyebrows went up over her glasses. She didn't say anything, just took another long drink from her mug.
Finally she put the cup down and asked, "When do you think the two of you will get married?"
Kim almost spit her own brew out but recovered. It wasn't 'do you think,' but 'when?' "I don't know yet. We've sort of talked about talking about it and I can't imagine us not eventually tying the knot, but not right away."
"Sometimes when I look at the two of you together I already see the two of you married." Jean said, almost wistfully.
"Mrs. Stoppable, we're only seventeen."
"Seventeen going on twenty-five. Kim, and this is no cut on you, but you and your Mom look about five years apart. I just can't reconcile the fact your parents are only months apart in age…or the fact I'm only five years older than her."
"Mrs…"
"Kim, please, call me Jean."
"Jean, you don't look a day over thirty."
She leaned towards the younger woman. "Lying isn't pretty on you." She said with a large smile.
Kim smiled right back at her. She was actually a little shocked that Ron's mother was actually forty-eight.
She heard a door shut upstairs and could hear Ron coming back down.
"Jean, tell me something, if you don't mind me asking, but what exactly are you and Mr. Stoppable doing in Denver?"
The elder Stoppable took another long drink of her coffee and answered just as Ron came back into the kitchen. "I think we'll be ready to tell the both of you soon…but not yet."
"What's that, Mom?" Ron asked, putting a hand on Kim's shoulder. The way it disappeared under his big paw really hammered home just how tiny the young woman really was.
"Soon, Ron, we'll talk about it soon." She said. "Now you two run along." She got up and kissed her son on the cheek, putting her hand on Kim's other shoulder. "Good luck, Son. Knock 'em dead."
She gave him a nice pat on his rump as they got up to leave. She smiled at Kim. "Yep, you're a lucky girl there Kim."
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