Chapter 22 – Responsible

Louisa was strapping James into the buggy for the trip to play-school, when she reminded me of a commitment I had been forced to make. "Tonight? Remember?"

I groaned inside for I did remember. "Yes." This was going to be horrid. No, more awkward perhaps.

"Now I know that you can't always control these things, but I hope that you don't have any house calls."

"Louisa, when I get a call… you know that I must, MUST, respond."

She nodded. "Right." She completed rigging the buggy, then came to me and kissed my cheek. "I did say hope."

"Uhm, yes. Ahem. We'll see, won't we?"

She patted my shoulders and peered up at me, with shining eyes. "I told them to come to the house at half-six."

"Yes," I sighed ruefully.

Louisa looked at with concern. "We discussed this last week and you did agree."

"I know."

She turned away. "They can both benefit, you know. You Martin Ellingham are the one to help them."

"I'm a doctor, not a…"

"You are also a teacher, husband. You can do this. If you taught specialist registrars at your fancy London hospital, you can teach them."

I closed my eyes, thinking I'd rather be dealing with medical professionals then my receptionist and her barman fiancé. "Fine," I sighed, but I did not want to responsible for this particular thing.

The day went by apace with the usual dose of time-wasters as well as actual medical problems, such as hammertoe, diabetes, arrhythmia, earache, bellyache, and lurky. By the time the office was closed I was tired, and grumpy. Morwenna gave me a cheery goodbye when she left at 5 PM, so time was short after that to make our supper and get James fed.

Louisa cleared the table of our dinner, while James was finishing, slurping spaghetti into his mouth and smearing red sauce across his plate. Why must children eat with their hands? I almost snapped at our child, but I restrained myself. "Here, James," I said gently. "Try using the fork again."

James picked up his fork, stuck it into the pile of pasta on his plate and began to twirl the handle.

Louisa told him, "Good boy!"

James smiled under her beaming praise, then he lifted the fork and stuck a ball of pasta about the size of a cricket ball into his mouth, or tried to. As he chewed, partially masticated fragments fell back onto his plate in a gooey and gloppy stream.

I felt my nose turning up, but Louisa sat down to watch the display. "Well done James! Now you're getting the hang of it."

James laughed, spraying red sauce down his face, across the table, and onto his mother, just missing my sleeve by a centimeter. Oh well. Parenthood. Have a child they said. Get married they said. It'll be fun they said. Not that anyone actually said that to me.

Perhaps fun was not quite the proper word. Maybe responsible might be a better one. So, being responsible, I said, "I'll clean him up."

Louisa looked down at her blouse which was streaked with blobs of sauce and noodles. "Only food. I can think of a lot worse things," she observed.

"Right," I replied, for I too knew of any number of bodily fluids which were far more noxious than red sauce. I got James cleaned up somewhat, while Louisa went up to change into a clean top.

Using a damp towel, I cleaned our boy, then got him out of his chair. I cleared the table and cleaned it, and watched as he went to his toy box and pulled out dumper trucks, blocks, a fire engine, and his toy dinosaurs. He sat down cross-legged, constructed a rough block square, put the toy dinosaurs inside, and then proceeded to play 'zoo.' This was something that he and Louisa did often, making various shapes, and playing games with the toys. He chuckled as he transferred each plastic animal from the 'corral' into a dumper and then rolled them across the room to a spot by the telly. He repeated the back and forth journeys until the toys had all been moved, and then he went back and methodically moved the blocks to the new location.

I watched as he once again built block walls and set the dinos in place. "Daddy? My Portwenn zoo. I moved it," he declared.

I turned to face him. "Where was the zoo before?"

"Over dere," he pointed across the room, then began to 'race' the dinos with both hands around and around on the floor.

"James you know that dinosaurs died a low time ago."

He nodded. "I know. But I mean a… a… toy zoo. You know."

I hung up the towel, took off the apron, and crouched down by my son. "Hm. A toy zoo."

"And the an'mals can live here. So they don't get all… uhm… lonely."

I plucked the toy T-rex out of the dumper and turned it in my hands.

"That's the daddy, daddy."

"The father of the others?" I asked.

James nodded vigorously. He added, "Yep. Cause he's tall like my daddy." Then he hugged my arm. "Love you."

I tipped my head and kissed his hair. "And I love you."

James smiled. "I know. Love mummy too. And Buddy."

"James, we love each other, you, me, and mummy. People feel love. But animals don't… actually… they don't feel love… like people do. They can't. They're not made that way." I stopped when his face got sad.

He wagged his head side to side. "Buddy loves me, daddy, but he loves you bestest." He smiled. "I know."

"How can you tell, James?"

His little shoulders shrugged. "I know," he said seriously. "He does! The way he runs to you when you come into the room."

Buddy had been quite a pain in the rear lately, bringing any sort of junk into our home. James though it wonderful, but considering that stupid dog put everything in his mouth, I shuddered at the myriad of unseen pathogens he hauled inside.

James was nodding. "Buddy's happy, daddy."

I tried to listen to James, and really think about what he was saying. Perhaps the dog was attached to me – God knows why. Was what the animal felt the same thing I felt when I saw Louisa? A mystery.

Just then there was a hard rap on the kitchen door, so I got up, dusted my trousers, and walked to the door. Louisa was just coming down the stair and into the front room.

She gave me a look when she turned the corner. "Ready for them?" she asked.

"I suppose," I mumbled, as I opened the door. Al and Morwenna stood there, a bit self-consciously.

"Hi Doc!" my receptionist said.

"Uhm, Doc," Al muttered. "Good of you to…"

Buddy zoomed around them, leapt inside, and standing on hind legs jumped onto my trousers, getting mud all over my shins. "Gawd! Stupid dog! Louisa, get this… filthy…" I yelled as I tried to back away. But the dog kept coming at me.

James ran over and tackled Buddy, spreading filth from the dog's coat onto his shirt and jeans.

Louisa and I just looked at one other, while James rolled over and over, tickling Buddy, the two of them making an awful mess on the lino, while our son giggled and the dog barked.

Al bent down and rubbed the dog's head. "Awful good of you to give Buddy a home. Little guy was lost after Joan died. Joe tried to, you know."

I had the kitchen roll in hand and taking handfuls of towels was wiping at the mess on my trouser legs. "Gawd, I ha…"

"But good of you to responsible for him," Al added.

"Thanks Al," Louisa replied. "We're glad to have him."

I binned the soiled towels and washed my hands with plenty of hot water and soap. "Yeah, it's a thrill," I gibed. "Laugh a minute."

Our guests and Louisa laughed, but I wondered if being responsible for a dog was that much different from being responsible for a child? Hm. I looked down at my ruined trousers. "I'll go change these."