A/n: Feeling only marginally evil today, since the heat wave has broken. Therefore, I post this early instead of dinner time. Has nothing whatsoever to do with that fact that I will be out of the house at dinner time and gone the rest of the evening.

Chapter Three

Joe swore as he dropped the wrench for the fourth time in as many minutes. Part of him was ready to admit defeat and call for a tow truck to bring the Impala to a mechanic shop. But then his pride got the better of him and he grimly swore he'd fix it himself.

Working on engines was one of the few things he did without needing lots of little minor distractions. He could easily focus his entire energy on it. In fact, he rarely even turned on the radio for background noise as he tinkered. Even so, he was aware of his surroundings and quickly slid out from under the car when he heard another one pull into his driveway. He was slightly surprised at who it was.

"Umm, Hi?" He quasi-asked. "What're you doing here?"

"Thought I'd come over and help you with the car." was the reply.

"No offense, Dad, but you can't even change the oil in your own." Joe raised an eyebrow sardonically.

"By 'help' I meant sit on the nearest object situated about waist high and offer unsolicited advice. I brought lunch." Fenton produced a long skinny bag that contained a pair of 12 inch subs and a couple of bags of chips as well as two bottles of Arizona Iced Tea (Green tea with ginseng and honey). "It was either this, or be roped into some chore or other myself. Your mother has been hinting the lawn needs mowing." With an over dramatic shudder, Fenton allowed Joe to choose his sandwich and chip combo.

Joe just laughed as he selected his lunch. He sprawled against the built in cabinet that housed all his tools. They spent a few comfortable minutes just munching away and engaging in idle chitchat.

"So, how is your lovely bride to be?" Fenton asked between bites.

Joe smirked. "Apparently Phil spends all his time gushing over his impending fatherhood. She says that outside of the actual meetings, he's completely loopy with paternal natterings. Dragged her into a baby store to get her 'maternal opinion' on stuff." he shifted before continuing. "She had the nerve to tell me last night that it was weird for her to consider talking to me her 'adult' conversation for the day!" Joe huffed in mock annoyance.

"Doesn't she want children, Son?" Fenton asked, a hint of alarm in his voice. He was really looking forward to being a grandfather.

"Oh, we talked about it in general, vague, 'maybe someday' terms. She's not baby crazy, nor is she completely against the idea. If it happens, it happens. Neither one if us have any strong opinions one way or another." He paused and looked at his father quizzically. "Are you okay with postponing grandparent privileges?"

Fenton tried to hide his disappointment. "Your mother has already started looking at baby afghan patterns."

"I'll place an order for one. I'll give it to Phil and Pam." Joe teased. "Besides, I know Gloria wants a bunch. So you still have her and Frank to carry on the family name." Joe grew earnest as he cleaned up the empty wrappers and stuffed them in the garbage can. "Seriously, dad, we just want some time for ourselves first. Raising Mini Mes is gonna be exhausting."

Fenton chuckled. "You can say that again. Let's just say I am grateful the Twin Curse on your mother's side never came to fruition. Not sure I could have survived two of you!"

The rest of the afternoon, the two men were oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. Fenton proved an able assistant after all and would hand tools to his son upon request and within a couple of hours, Joe had the Impala back up to snuff. "Musta run over something sharp to have cut the line so cleanly." he commented as he was cleaning up.

"Wouldn't you remember something like that?" Fenton asked.

"Meh. Maybe. The gym parking lot has been a mess ever since that dumpster truck broke and spilled all over the place. Can't avoid everything unfortunately." Joe shrugged as he shut the garage door and invited his father for a beer on the back deck. "If you want dinner, it'll have to be leftover Chinese."

"No thanks. I'll pass. Your mother was picking up some fresh salmon at the market." Fenton loved salmon, but his sons hated it so while they were growing up he seldom got to indulge.

Joe made a face at the mention of the coral colored fish. "Blech. That stuff is nasty." He walked his father to the door and waved good bye as Fenton pulled out of the driveway. Across the street and around the corner, Aldo Mazzola also drove away.

A/n: Everybody is able to follow, right? You can tell where everyone is in relation to each other?