Casey came again, a few days later, to bring them another round of groceries.
"So, Casey," Leonardo said, as they all worked together to store the food neatly in the pantry and refrigerator. (Well, Leo worked to store it neatly. Mike sort of stashed things wherever, and Leo had been dismayed to discover that Don had a similarly careless attitude towards putting things away.) "How did you come to own this house?"
"I don't," Casey said.
"What?" Leo had no particular problem with squatting, but he liked to know when he was squatting.
"It was my grandma's house," Casey said, wadding up an emptied plastic bag and tossing it in the trash. "When she died, it passed to my mom. She owns it. But she gave me and all my cousins the keys. It's a special place for us. We like to drop in once in a while."
Leo felt a heart attack coming on. "You're just telling us now that any of your cousins could have dropped in while we were here?"
"Don't worry about it," Casey said. "They're good people. They wouldn't give you any trouble." He backhanded a package of hamburger meat to Raph. He probably thought he was pulling off some kind of sleight-of-hand, smuggling meat into the house, but the move was blatantly obvious to Leo, and he was certain Mike and Don had noticed too. "Except Sid. I wouldn't trust him too much."
"Okay, that's it," Leo said. "We're leaving right now."
This triggered a chorus of whining from everyone, which was completely unwarranted.
"Chill out, Leo," Casey said, instantly raising his own standing with the troops. "They're all busy with jobs and kids now. When we got in, did it look like anybody else had been here this decade?"
"No," Leo had to admit.
"See?" Casey said. "No problem."
Leo could not stand that he had just lost a debate - and a popularity contest - to someone who thought "strategy" was a kind of guitar.
"Anyway," Don said, as he set out some bananas to ripen on the counter, "what's the phone number here? Our parents want to know."
Casey rattled off a seven-digit number, and Don nodded. Apparently he was just as able to memorize as his brothers were.
"And do you know the phone is broken?" Don asked. "The dial is missing."
"Aw, yeah," Casey said. "But it was Grandma Lucy's phone, and -"
"Seriously?" Don interrupted. "You're getting sentimental over a broken rotary dial? Replace the phone, Casey."
"Yeah, yeah," Casey grumbled. "First the phone, next you'll be wanting me to fix Papa's clock, and then it'll be renovations till I don't even recognize this place anymore."
"My next question was going to be 'what's the street address?'" Don said, unimpressed by Casey's dramatics. "I really need some clean clothes, and I'll have to tell April where to deliver them."
Casey frowned. "But -"
"Good thinking, Donatello," Leo said, before their loyal but not-so-bright friend could say too much. "Casey, can you tell him the street address?"
Casey gave Leo a funny look - Don didn't miss that either - and named an address.
"Thanks," Don said cheerfully, and he immediately went and dialed the phone with that weird lever-tapping method. Casey looked at Leo again, and this time they were completely on the same page - the phone worked, why mess with it?
"Hi Mom," Don was saying, and then: "Oh, Aunt Terri. Where's Mom? … Oh, she gave your phone back and went home. Okay, good. I'll call her right now. No, wait. Is Anna there? Can I talk to her?" He waited, twisting the toes of one foot against the floor and wrapping the phone cord around his hand, his back to the room. "Hey, girl. … No, you. … Ugh, gross. … As if. Okay. Bye."
"Did aliens just eat his brain?" Mike whispered loudly, as Don held down the phone's lever and then started that rapid-fire tapping again. Leo shushed him, as he and Raph and Casey - and then Mike too - raptly eavesdropped on Donatello's next conversation.
"Hi Mom," Don started again. "No, everything's good. I just need some supplies. Listen, here's the phone number." And he repeated the seven digits Casey had told him a few minutes earlier. "Tell April to call me, and I'll give her the address. … Okay. I need more test strips and I'm running low on insulin. … No, I have plenty of the other meds." Leo supposed that was technically true, since Don wasn't taking the other meds anymore, and he respected the smooth way his brother played it off. "Also I really need some clothes. I've been wearing the same pajamas since I got here. … Oh, and some kibble for Snowflake. We've been feeding her people food and she's getting completely spoiled. … Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Mom. Bye."
He hung up the phone and turned around, only to realize that everyone was staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing," Leo said quickly.
"You have a life," Mike blurted.
"Uh, yeah," Don said, with only the barest hint of sarcasm. "I have a family and a girlfriend and a job and hobbies and a life. It's been a little overwhelming trying to make room for another family and another life."
"How did the tractor get in the yard?" said Casey, and Leo could not comprehend that he was only just noticing that now, or that he was bringing it up right in the middle of an important conversation.
"Got it running for you," said Raph, who had gleefully put the hamburger meat in the refrigerator, and had then become quiet and broody during the conversation. "You're welcome."
"But it ran out of gas," Mike explained.
"Well, I'll get some more," said Casey, which was so unlike how Master Splinter would ever have responded to such an exploit that for a moment Leo couldn't believe he had really just said that. "Just don't drive it too far from the house. If the neighbors hear it, and think this place is a working farm again, it'll be 'plow your fields' and then 'fix your fencerows' till I don't even -"
"Okay, we get it," Leo interrupted. "Keep the tractor near the house, guys. And don't destroy anything. Or fix anything. Casey likes his house exactly the way it is."
The phone rang while Casey was in town, filling an old oil can with diesel for the tractor. Don pounced on it, but Mike got there first.
"Hey, April!" he sang. "How's it going? Long time no see. … Okay, yeah, not that long. But time drags when you're not around, right?"
Don tried to claw the phone out of Mike's hand. Mike just let him try. His grip was nowhere near strong enough.
"Yeah, we're having an awesome time. You should see this place! I mean, you will when you bring D's clothes."
Leo shook his head at Mike, subtly. They both knew that April had probably already been there; who else had been driving the van that Dr. Lamb and almost-certainly-Splinter came in? Mike was going to overplay their hand and give the game away with his exaggerated fake ignorance.
"So, what's up? How's it going back in New York?" Mike leaned casually against the wall, completely ignoring Don's efforts to take the receiver from him.
Don, not a slow-witted guy, changed tactics and gestured for Leo to come over. "Please stab him," he said.
"I don't think so," Leo replied.
"Kirioroshi?" Don asked, trying to persuade Leo by suggesting a specific strike he had learned the name of.
"Still iiei," Leo said, though he had to give Don points for his attempt to exploit his opponent's weakness.
"Gosh, me too," Mike was saying. "Like, all the time."
Don turned back to Mike, leaning in close to his free ear. "I have not talked to April in seven years get off the phone."
"April, some totally rude jerk wants to talk to you," Mike said. "You want me to get rid of this guy? … Okay, suit yourself." And he handed the phone to Don, waggling his brows.
Don snatched the receiver out of Mike's hand and put it to his ear. "April?" And then his face melted into the most ridiculous happy smile.
They talked for a long time. Leo understood almost none of the words, but he gathered that they had a special history, something that maybe he and Mike and Raph would never share with their human friend. April really was an important person in his brother's life, beyond the happenstance connection that had allowed Splinter to find Donatello again after so many years. Again, but more fervently this time, Leo silently thanked whatever power had brought her to them.
"Oh, the address," Don was saying. He gave it to her, and Leo trusted that April was pretending she hadn't already known what it was. "Tomorrow? … Okay. I can't wait to see you again." He was silent a moment, seeming not to be listening to something that April was saying, but merely relishing her long-distance presence. "Bye, April."
He hung up the phone with a kind of reverence.
"Can't a guy get a little privacy?" he said, when he realized everyone was still staring at him.
"We don't have that in our family," Mike replied. "And now you have to tell us the real story of how you met April."
Leo settled in. This was going to be good.