Date: Wed, 31 Mar 2010 19:55:13 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 5, chapter 7 - 8 Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 5 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 7 -- A Difficult Time for Graham. **Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read this. The next day Andrew was walking on air, but he was mum about what he had done, except for briefly thanking me for helping to set the evening up for him. When it came time for his party, the handful of friends he had invited showed up to participate with the family. Their parents had called beforehand, just to make sure the party was still going on as planned and that everything would be okay. I assured them the boys would be fine and it might be a good diversion to keep them from dwelling on the insanity happening in the world. In reality, it worked out even better than I'd hoped. Other than our moment of silence for the victims, the boys spent their time being boys and pushed all memory of recent events from their minds. It was nice to watch them having such a great time playing games and just having fun. The entire day went very well, right up until they had to go home and Andrew was extremely pleased with how the day had gone. Later that evening, after things had returned to normal, Andrew must have told Sammy about his experiences the previous night with Graham. Unfortunately, Sammy reacted in a way that confirmed our worst fears concerning his over-protectiveness of his biological brother. After finding out about what had happened between Graham and Andrew, Sammy raced into Graham's room and started screaming at him, asking him what he thought he was doing and yelling it wasn't his place to teach his little brother about sex. Graham got up and tried to explain to Sammy the whole incident had been Andrew's idea and that I knew and approved of what had happened, but Sammy wasn't listening to anyone or anything at this point. He was too angry and filled with his own concerns. Instead of talking, he threw a punch at Graham and landed a glancing blow off Graham's collarbone. Graham was surprised by the physical attack, even though we all suspected there might be a verbal uproar, so he wasn't sure about how to respond to it. Graham's hesitation gave Sammy the time and opportunity to try to hit him again, but this time Sammy's aim was better and he landed a solid blow to Graham's stomach. As Graham buckled over, Sammy threw another punch that caught Graham on the chin. This time Graham didn't hesitate, since he figured he'd taken more than his share of physical abuse, he tackled Sammy and they both landed on the floor. Graham chose not to hit Sammy in return, but instead pinned him to the carpet and tried to reason with him some more. However, Sammy still wasn't having anything to do with it. By this time, I had heard the screaming and banging going on up there, so I wanted to see what was going on. By the time I entered Graham's room, Graham was sitting on Sammy's chest, while pinning Sammy's arms above his head, and telling him he didn't understand why he was so upset. When I asked what was going on, Sammy started screaming and swearing at both of us, so Graham tried to explain to me what had just taken place. After getting a handle on the situation, I told Graham to let Sammy up, but when he did, Sammy started throwing punches again. This time I was the one to step in and grab a hold of Sammy, in an attempt to restrain him from doing any more damage. Once I had succeeded at doing that, I quietly asked Graham to leave the room, so I could discuss the situation with his attacker. Graham willingly did as I'd requested, leaving the two of us alone in the room. Once Graham had disappeared from sight, I turned to Sammy and asked him what he thought he was doing. When he looked up at me, Sammy's face was still contorted with rage and I could still see the fire shooting from his eyes, so I grasped him by the shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. "Do you mind telling me what you thought you were doing here?" I asked him. "Do you know what Graham did with my brother last night?" he spat out, with as much venom as he could muster. "Yes, I do," I confirmed. "I know all about that and I even approved of its taking place." "Why would you do that?" he screamed back at me. "I should be the one teaching Andrew, not anyone else." "Sammy, it was Andrew's choice and I agreed with him," I explained. "Even though he loves you a whole lot, he felt this was something he wanted to do with someone else. He came to me and explained that he thought he was old enough now to learn about sex, and after talking to him for several minutes more, I reluctantly agreed. I asked him whom he'd wanted to do this with him and he told me his choice, so I then helped to set it up for him." "But why wouldn't he want me to teach him?" Sammy bellowed, but with a lot less forced than his previous outbursts. "I should have been the one to do that for him, not someone else." "Sammy, it wasn't your choice," I told him. "Besides, you've got to stop thinking of Andrew as your personal property. Andrew was the one who decided he wanted his first time to be with Graham, because I think he also feels a strong connection with Graham too. They are both the younger members of the only two pairs of biological brothers here and they seem to share other similar traits as well. I'm sure it wasn't anything personal. I know how much Andrew loves you, but he wanted to do this with someone other than you this time, because so many of his first experiences have been with you. When he told me how he felt, I agree he should be able to choose whomever he wanted to do this." "But he's my real brother, not Graham's," Sammy whined this time, and it looked as if he were nearly ready to cry. "He might be your brother by blood, but you're all part of the same family and all of you boys are brothers now," I corrected, somewhat forcefully. "I'm sorry you don't see it this way as well, because I try to treat you all equally and not show any difference to those of you I adopted and those who share my blood. I think Andrew sees it more like I do and realizes he has many brothers and not just you, although I'm positive he does put you first among all of this other siblings." "But…" Sammy began, but I cut him off. "The only but is," I informed him, "you should have come to me to discuss what you discovered and how it made you feel, BEFORE you decided to take matters into your own hands." I guess my being so firmly in agreement with what happened and against his reaction to it was too much for Sammy to bear. Suddenly, began to cry -- no, it was more than just crying, he was bawling uncontrollably. His chest was heaving, his body trembling and the water was cascading down his cheeks. I knew he felt all alone and betrayed by the rest of us, and I wasn't really able to shake his belief that he was Andrew's only real brother, so no one else should be involved in decisions concerning him. I could understand some of his reasoning, especially knowing how close the boys had always been, but I knew we'd have to have several long talks to work our way through this one. By now, Jake had also joined us. Graham had told him what had happened, so Jake raced upstairs to see if I needed assistance. When he burst into the room, he startled both Sammy and me, but I quickly told him we were merely talking, so I didn't need his assistance. He asked if I was certain, and I assured him I was, but before he left, I advised him that Sammy and I would be talking about this for a while and we preferred not to be bothered. Well, that was what I wanted, but I think Sammy just wanted to get away from me at that point. Jake nodded his understanding and left the room, closing the door behind him. I spent quite a long time just sitting and discussing the situation with Sammy. I tried to explain to him that when I adopted them, it made them all equally my sons and equally each other's brothers, which meant Cole and Graham had no more of a relationship with one another, than did he and Andrew. I thought he was beginning to see my point, and I would have stayed there longer to make certain he understood and agreed, but we were interrupted. Someone knocked on the door, so we stopped talking, while I got up to open it. I was going to send the person on the other side away, but when I pulled the door back, I discovered it was Andrew who was standing there. I stepped back and didn't say a word, as I waited for Sammy to look up and see who was there. When he finally did, he saw Andrew coming toward him, with tears streaming down his cheeks, because he felt he had been the cause of all the problems. Andrew had heard a little of what went on earlier, as the other boys had been questioning Graham about what had happened, and Andrew immediately realized this was his fault. He had wanted Graham to help him, instead of his brother, even though he had a pretty good suspicion as to how Sammy was going to react. He had done what he wanted, rather than thinking about how Sammy was going to feel, so now he bore the guilt upon his own shoulders. Andrew walked up to Sammy and told him he was sorry for not wanting to do it with him first, and I could see Sammy's body begin to relax and his facial features gradually soften, due to Andrew's obvious pain. I think Sammy suddenly realized that he had hurt the one person in the world he was trying to protect by lashing out at Graham. In spite of everything I had done to try to get him to see how wrong his actions were, seeing how his brother was reacting to what he had done made Sammy feel badly about attacking Graham, for the first time. By this point, Sammy had calmed down considerably, so he began to apologize to both Andrew and me. After he hugged his brother and they shed a few tears, Sammy made his way over to me and began to speak, although he was having a tough time looking me directly in the eye. "I'm really sorry about what I did, Dad," he began. "I guess you probably think I was acting like the back end of a horse, huh?" "More like a mule," I shot back, "completely stubborn, but I'm not the one you need to apologize to," I added. "Oh, yeah," he began. "I guess I should tell Graham I'm sorry for punching him, huh?" "That might be a good start," I concurred. With that said, we all got up and headed for the stairs. When we walked into the family room, all the others looked up at us, but Graham looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn't seem to know if he should relax or stand up and be ready to defend himself again. I think Sammy sensed this too, so he broke the ice. "Don't worry," he said, while looking at Graham. "I'm not going to come after you again. I'm really sorry that I hit you and acted like such a jerk upstairs." Hearing his words, Graham let out his breath, almost as if he'd been holding it in until he saw what was going to happen. Sammy walked over and extended his hand, in an offer to shake, and after a brief hesitation, Graham reciprocated. After that, I held a discussion with the entire family and we agreed, that from now on, each individual would make his own decisions, with my approval of course, and that no one else would make decisions for anyone else in the family. This situation concluded with Sammy and Andrew hugging each other, and then hugging Graham and me, before apologizing once again for their actual or supposed transgressions. We also agreed there would be no hard feelings past this moment and all would now be forgotten. Later that evening, I heard that Sammy had asked Graham to join Andrew and him in their room, to spend the night together, as a way of burying the hatchet, so to speak. I never heard the details of what went on during that get together, but the next day it appeared they had successfully let go of any animosity they had been feeling about what had happened. Things continued to remain calm at home, but there was still a great deal going on in the rest of the country. It was now becoming evident there weren't going to be any more survivors found at any of the crash sites, and it was also becoming apparent the other plane that crashed in Pennsylvania was the likely result of actions by the passengers to prevent the hijackers from slamming it into another target. Much information had also been uncovered as to who the hijackers were and that they were affiliated with a Muslim group called Al-Qaida, which was financed by a rich Saudi rebel of sorts. He seemed to be declaring a holy war (or jihad) on the U.S., to advance his own personal agenda, and all of the suicide attacks and related deaths were just another tool in his arsenal to help him get what he wanted. I am still amazed that anyone could feel his God would support the taking of innocent lives, especially on such a large scale, as justification for any perceived grievance. I just wish I could be in the line behind these guys on Judgment Day, when the architects of these plans stand before God and he condemns them for their actions and for claiming the death and destruction they wreaked was done in his name. He will look at those who had carried out these plans, while thinking they had sacrificed themselves so they'd go straight to heaven and be provided with one hundred virgins to attend their needs, and I would laugh when their creator explains to them how misguided their actions were. I wonder what their response will be when God informs them they are going to hell for what they did, and not to heaven, as they had been led to believe. So much for guarantees! There was one interesting side effect from all of this, and that was a renewed sense of patriotism and the rare use of public prayers. The irony is that it took a disaster of this enormity to cause either of these things to happen. Suddenly there were flags flying everywhere, including on cars, and 'God Bless America' and 'America the Beautiful' were being sung at public events. I don't think there had been such a patriotic fervor in the country since World War II and it may be years before we ever see a phenomenon of this magnitude happening again. I guess it takes a catastrophic event such as this, or the bombing or Pearl Harbor as another example, to pull a nation this large together, with a single focus, commonality of purpose and unbreakable sense of unity. Too bad we can't focus more on what we have in common as a nation normally, instead of finding fault with each other's differences and concentrating so much energy upon our own selfish concerns. My family is no exception, as sometimes we tend to develop tunnel vision and see only what is in our own best interests. In some cases, it is better to take a step back at the time, so you can look at the broader picture, while acknowledging there are others in this world that are worse off than we are. However, it is not always easy to admit our concerns are not at the top of anyone else's priority list, and that also seems to be a problem with special interest groups. They tend to advance their own goals, which at times can run contrary to the greater good, so there are many instances when these groups worsen the situation for those who are most in need of such relief and concern. Can a tragedy like this cause us to rise above such petty self-interests? I truly doubt it, but I'm willing take a wait-and-see approach for now. The events of 9/11 were still fresh in our memories, when Graham approached me again one evening. I knew something had been bothering him, because he hadn't been himself for the past few days. Although at first I suspected trouble had arisen between Sammy and him again, they appeared to be getting along fine, so I suspected he was just reacting to the horror of recent events and these occurrences had seemed to unsettle him. Even though I was tempted to approach him and ask what was wrong, I concluded it might be best to wait for him to come to me with his concerns, although I would definitely corner him if he didn't show signs of improvement before much longer. However, he beat me to the punch. "Dad, can we go somewhere to talk?" he asked me one afternoon, and the serious expression on his face told me this was more of a demand than a request "Sure. Why don't we go for a walk," I suggested, "and while we're at it, you can tell me what's on your mind." "Okay. That will work," he agreed, before following me out the front door. As we began to walk up the street, I glanced over at him, but he had still said nothing. It appeared as if he were trying to form the words in his mind, before he spoke them aloud. However, after a couple more minutes of this prolonged silence, I decided to prod him into opening up. "Graham, what's bothering you?" I asked him directly. "I can tell something is troubling you, because you haven't been yourself lately." After listening to my comment, he looked at me, and then at the ground, before he began to speak. "Dad, why was I the one who got stuck with this stupid ability?" he began, while looking very sadly up at me. I hesitated for a moment, while trying to pinpoint his specific concern, because I was fairly certain something else had transpired -- something to which I was not yet privy. When I looked down at him, my heart ached, as I read the pained expression etched upon his face. That gave me a pretty good idea that his most recent experience was not a pleasant one and gave me a slight indication about what he'd been going through. "Do you mean your ability to see the future and communicate with those who have passed?" I pressed, to clarify his dilemma, and he merely nodded his head in response. "Did you have some sense about all those terrible things before they happened?" I followed, imagining how terrifying that would have been; even without watching them come to pass. I guess I was hoping his reaction would tell me this wasn't so and my asking him this would startle him, but that wasn't to be. Graham simply nodded his head, as he turned to face me. "Sort of, but I didn't really understand what I was seeing. Dad, I don't want to know when these things are going to happen, especially if I can't stop them. I don't want to go through life knowing things like this will keep happening to me." I could empathize with him, imagining what it would be like to have his abilities, but I wanted to make sure about what I was dealing with here. "What exactly did you see or know before it happened?" I asked. "Remember that movie we were watching, the one that took place in New York City?" When I told him I did, he continued. "Well, every time I saw the World Trade Center, it was always surrounded in a black shadow, just like Brent was before the accident. I didn't know what it meant, in fact I sort of hoped it was just a special effect in the movie, but I guess I should have figured it out and warned somebody." "Graham, who would you have warned and what would you have told them?" I reasoned. "I don't really see how you could have possibly prevented what happened. Did you see anything else?" "Well, I also had several dreams about planes crashing into things before it actually happened, but they were smashing into mountains or into the ground most of the time, although I did see one crash into the Empire State Building." "Well, that was still not enough to tell you what was going to happen," I countered, trying to ease his concerns. "Yeah, but I think it was Brent who was trying to tell me things, but I just didn't understand what he meant. Why didn't he just tell someone older and smarter? Why does it have to be me? I just couldn't figure it out, so I'm to blame for letting it happen." Having spoken those words, Graham's body shook and he began to weep. He was blaming himself for the loss of all those lives and that was far too great of a burden for anyone, let alone someone his age. In an effort to comfort him, I put my arm around his shoulder and drew him closer to me, as the first step in trying to reassure him he wasn't to blame. "Graham, as I've said before, God never gives us more than we can handle," I followed, "but that doesn't mean we can always have things turn out the way we want. Maybe he just allowed you to learn about it before it happened, to help you develop your skills, so when you get older you might be able prevent another calamity from happening. I don't know, but there must be a purpose for your gift. Besides, very few people are blessed with such an unusual talent, so maybe you should consider yourself lucky." He looked at me as if I had three heads, as he digested my words. I now began to wonder how he was going to respond to what I'd said, when he finally began to speak. "It may be a talent, but it's not much of a gift," he said, glumly. "Well, maybe sometimes it's kind of neat, like when I can see Brent and know he's happy, but at other times it's just a pain, especially when bad things like this happen." He hung his head again. "Well, I'll just have to help you cope with your special ability and learn to do the best you can with the information you get from it." This time he smiled at me before he responded. "Well, I kind of hoped you'd say that and figured you'd might be willing to help me learn to live with my visions. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to get rid of seeing these things all of the time, so I guess it will be easier for me to have someone trying to help me figure out what these things mean. Do you mind if I tell you, every time I see something like that?" "Not at all," I assured him. "In fact, I would feel honored if you did." "You're crazy, Dad," he chided, "but I'm glad I can count on you helping me figure these things out." "And I'm glad I have you, with all your special talents. It sure makes life interesting," I joked. We laughed briefly after I said this and then Graham wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me, so I hugged him back. Once we released our grips on each other, we walked back to the house, knowing we'd settled upon a temporary solution to ease Graham's plight. Nothing more was said about our conversation, and I figured nothing would be until Graham had his next vision, so I pondered when that might happen and what I could do to ease his concerns when that time came. Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 5 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 8 -- Bouncing Back. The following weekend was parents' weekend at Frankies' college, but this time I took the next group of boys that would be considering college. I hoped this might motivate them into deciding on what they wanted to major in and where they might like to go, as they would be sending out their initial letters of application in a couple of months. As we loaded into the Suburban this time, I had Pat, Ricky, Jay and Shannon with Jake and me. Even though Jay didn't live with us, he was still part of the family and one of the juniors, so we included him in our plans, with his parents' consent of course. Jake was looking forward to encouraging his son about going to college, since Jake had never gone beyond high school himself. He had told me once it was never even an option he had considered, since no one in his family had ever pursued a college degree, but he wanted Shannon to have the opportunity he was never given. I thought that was wonderful and Jake was eager to have Shannon experience the same type of eye-opening weekend as his father had enjoyed when we went to visit Dustin's campus. This time, I left Danny, Brandon and Kevin in charge while we were gone, with Sally, the Shays and the Spences on alert, just like before, in case the boys needed any assistance. I was fairly certain they wouldn't, since they had pretty much run the household for me since my heart attack, but it is always best to be prepared for any type of unexpected crisis. As soon as we got back from visiting Dustin, I had reserved two rooms at a motel near the campus, one for the boys and one for Jake and myself. After our last weekend together, I wanted to make sure we had some privacy, just in case either of us was feeling frisky. I was slowly getting stronger and felt I might be up to a little more on this trip and was looking forward to spending time with Jake away from the house. This weekend was very similar to the one we'd had with Dustin, except there was much more patriotic fervor intertwined throughout, due to 9/11. During our time there, we attended a soccer game (where we sang the 'Star Spangled Banner' and 'America the Beautiful' before the game began, followed by 'God Bless America' at halftime), took a tour of the campus and then unwound a little at the evening's social function (where we also observed a moment of silence for the victims and the country as a whole). This time, however, there was no other set of parents for us to get to know, since Frankie's roommate's folks did not come to participate in parents' weekend. I later learned from Frankie that the boy and his parents have a very strained relationship. He had told Frankie that much, although he never shared any of the details concerning the reasons for it being the way it was. Therefore, in order to ensure he didn't feel left out of the fun, we asked him to join us in everything we did while we were there, which included taking him out for meals and to church with us. The only real difference between the two weekends, besides the lack of a second set of parents and attending a soccer match instead of a football game, was later that evening, once we were in our motel room, Jake and I decided we wanted to move our relationship to the next level. Maybe I should clarify this point a little. I'm not just talking about Jake and I having sex here. Once we were alone, we started talking about what was going to happen as the boys started to move away to attend college and then begin their own lives, apart from us -- but more to the point, once it was Shannon's turn to leave the nest. Jake admitted he wasn't going to know what to do with his life after that happened, except it would be easier to deal with now, since he had the other boys and me to ease his separation anxiety when that time came. When Jake told me that, it started us discussing our futures and we finally agreed we wanted to do it together -- as a couple. We were both ready to move beyond just being boyfriends and lovers and ready to commit to a long-term partnership. Yes, we'd tossed this around before, but this time we were actually ready to commit ourselves to the idea. I think we were both a little giddy after reaching this consensus. Anyway, our weekend passed quickly, and when we arrived home that Sunday evening, we were greeted by the boys and assured everything had gone smoothly. Later, as we sat relaxing, Graham told me he needed to speak with me, in private, so I took him to my room. I could only imagine what was on his mind this time, but I would have never guessed what he was about to tell me. "Dad, Brent came to me again, while you were gone," he began, "and he told me something he wanted you to know." "And just what would that be?" I asked, curious as to where this might lead. "He told me about this boy who just lost his parents, and he wants you to take him in," Graham blurted out quite quickly and without much emotion. It was just stated very matter-of-factly. "Brent says this boy can just take his place in the family now and he won't mind." I was sort of stunned by this news, so I didn't know what to say at first. After thinking this over quickly, I finally responded to Graham. "Even though I think I understand what Brent wants us to do, I'm not sure I'd even be allowed to take in another boy, especially after my recent health problems. I have a feeling Brent doesn't understand that." "I think he does," Graham corrected, "but he let me know this kid needs to come live with us, not just anyone. I think he was telling us we need to find a way to do this." "But why just us?" I countered. "I'm not sure exactly why he's telling me this," Graham admitted, "but I think he was trying to let me know there is something different about this boy, something that most people wouldn't be able to deal with." Now, I was really hesitant to get involved in this, because I knew I couldn't deal with the same types of things that I'd had to handle with Frankie or Pat, at least not until I got more of my strength back. "Graham, I know Brent probably means well," I began, "but I'm not sure he fully understands what has happened since he left us." "Oh, he does, because he told me that you were going to get better and be all right," Graham quickly confirmed. "He also says you HAVE to do this. He's let me know that if you don't take this boy in, no one else will, and he'll end up growing up in some institution." "How can he know all that?" I pressed, as this was getting more bizarre by the second. "I don't know, but that's what he showed me," Graham immediately explained. "Well, I haven't even heard of such a boy, but I'll consider it when, and if, I do," I told him, figuring that time might never come about. "No! Brent says you have to find him," Graham shot back. "And just how would I do that?" I wanted to know. It's not like I go looking for new sons. "He's let me know that you have to use your contacts, like Aunt Sally and others who could find out about such things," Graham explained, but I didn't see this as much more of an answer than before. "But what would I tell her?" I asked, out of frustration. "I'd certainly have to have more information than I have now in order to do that." At this point Graham seemed to be staring off into space and I wasn't sure of what was going on, but after a few minutes he spoke to me again. "Brent just told me that he'll find a way to either get this information to you or he'll come up with a way to bring the boy to your attention. I guess he's not sure how he's going to do this, but he said he'll do it somehow." Having witnessed what I just had, I felt shivers run up my spine and felt goose pimples erupt along my arms. I didn't believe it, but I had just witnessed Graham communicating with Brent. Sure, I'd known he was telling me he did it, but to see it take place before my very eyes was more than I was prepared for. At that second, I decided this was a good place to leave this discussion, since I wasn't ready to commit myself to anything just yet. I guess, in the back of my mind, I hoped this topic would just fade away. I was somewhat surprised to see Graham seemed content to end our discussion too, but I think he reasoned that Brent would let us know the details when the time was right, so for now I was off the hook about his pressuring me further. For the time being, neither of us had to make any hard and fast decisions. By the end of September, I was doing quite well. I had regained much of my strength, felt better than I had since this had happened and the doctors confirmed I was progressing quite nicely. They still wanted me to limit my stress and exertion, and to take things easy, but I was told that, with a few restrictions, I could go back to doing most of the things I normally did. I did have to continue to watch my diet, to make sure I limited or eliminated fats, fried foods and such, and I had to take a few medications. The doctor also suggested I shed a few more of the extra pounds I had put on over the past few years, but I was thrilled that things were getting back to normal, so to speak, and I couldn't wait to be active again. While relaying this information to the family later that evening, they also became excited to hear that I could begin to do more, but then suggested they'd continue to do most of the work around the house, so I didn't overdue it. Shortly thereafter, someone asked me when I'd be able to start teaching the next group to drive, and I told them I'd be willing to start this weekend, as long as Jake was agreeable to helping me out with it. At first he wasn't sure I should be doing this, since he thought teaching young people how to drive could be very stressful, but I assured him that since I'd been through this twice before in recent years and with all of my adult children as well, I was prepared and things would be fine. Hearing my assurance, he agreed to help out, so I committed myself to working with the boys. It was now time for Ricky, Jay and Shannon to learn how to drive. Pat was also old enough to be included in this group, but I wasn't sure if his eye problems would interfere with his ability to get a license. I took him aside and discussed this with him privately, so I could see what he wanted to do. "Pat, you know I'm going to start teaching the next group how to drive," I began, "and I was wondering if you wanted to be included in this group? If you do, then I'll set up an appointment with your eye doctor, to see if he thinks this would be possible." "Dad, I'd really like to be able to drive, but I don't want to do it if I won't be a safe driver," he confirmed. "I've seen people behind the wheel who shouldn't be driving, and I don't want to end up being one of them. I really would like to have my license, though, so I don't have to depend on everyone else all of the time." "You're a very wise young man," I told him, "and I know you're too smart to let anything like that to ever happen. In that case, I'll set up the appointment, so we can find out if your doctor thinks you'd be able to pass the eye test and get your license. How does that sound to you?" "It sounds great!" he replied. "I really hope he'll tell me it's okay for me to drive." The next day I called for an appointment, but the earliest they could squeeze us in was the following week, even after I explained the purpose for our visit. Even though we weren't sure if Pat would be allowed to drive, I decided to include him in on that weekend's driving lesson, so he wouldn't miss out or fall behind, if it were permissible. Besides, we'd only be driving around an empty parking lot, so I couldn't see what harm it would do. Pat was thrilled that I'd decided to do it this way, and I even let him go first, after I had given the group their first set of driving instructions. The boys all did very well for their first time out and each of them was extremely excited about having reached this plateau in their young lives. For me, it just felt good to get back to doing some of my normal tasks and taking my place as a contributing family member again. On Wednesday evening, one of the boys called me to the phone, but didn't give me any indication of who was on the line. A few of them were either smiling or giggling, so I felt it couldn't be anything to worry about, so I picked up the receiver and said 'hello.' "Pop, it's me, Michael," I was quickly informed. "You have a granddaughter!" he added, excitedly, his voice dripping with emotion. "REALLY?" I asked, rhetorically. "A little girl. How are Andrea and the baby doing?" "They're doing just great," he assured me. "She was delivered about twenty minutes ago and she's just beautiful." "I'm sure she is," I agreed. "I don't believe you and Andrea could have anything BUT beautiful children." "Thanks, Pop," he responded. "She weighed six pounds, seven ounces and was twenty-one inches long," he advised me. "So have you named her yet?" I pressed. "Oh, yeah," he replied, sounding a bit embarrassed by the oversight. "We've agreed to call her Megan. I guess I should have told you that already." "It would have helped," I teased, "but give me some more information, if you will, so I can send your lovely wife some flowers and the baby a going home gift." Over the next several minutes, Michael gave me the particulars I wanted and then I went to tell the others all I had learned. Some of them already knew some of this information, since Michael had told Pat, who had happened to answer the phone, and he'd already started spreading the word along to a few of the others. However, none of them were aware of most of the details, including her name. Needless to say, we were all more than a little giddy after receiving such wonderful information and September 27th would now have added significance for me. The following day, while the boys were at school, I called and ordered flowers to be delivered to my daughter-in-law's hospital room and ordered a newborn outfit for Megan and a mobile for her crib, which I had sent to their house. I could hardly wait until Michael emailed me pictures of my new granddaughter or I would finally get to hold her in my arms. After a somewhat relaxing, yet euphoric weekend, I took Pat to his eye exam. He was a bundle of nerves as we drove there, but even more so while we sat in the reception area, waiting to be called in. Once we got in to see the doctor and he had concluded his examination, Pat began to pepper him with questions about his chances for being allowed to drive. After listening to all of Pat's concerns, the doctor told him what he thought. "Pat, even though you only have sight in one eye, it is good enough to allow you to pass the required vision test. There are many people driving who can only see out of one eye, but it does mean you'll have to learn to adapt in other ways, to accommodate for the lack of peripheral vision. I don't see the sight in that eye deteriorating any more quickly than for anyone else, so I can't foresee any particular future problems either. Other than that, I see no reason why you can't get your license." Pat was so excited after receiving this news that he leapt from his chair, but quickly regained control of his emotions. The doctor smiled at Pat's reaction and told him he expected him to be a responsible driver, so they wouldn't 'run into each other' any time soon. Pat caught the double meaning behind that phrase and promised the doctor he would make sure that never happened. As we drove back home, I watched Pat out of the corner of my eye and noticed he was still having trouble containing his excitement. He was wiggling around in his seat, drumming on the dashboard, and grinning like the proverbial cat that had just swallowed the canary. I was really glad it had turned out this way and he was so happy. Now that things were getting back to normal, it took me a while to get used to the fact that I wouldn't have to get up mornings and go to school any more. Eventually, I began to enjoy not having to work, especially when it meant I got to spend more quality time alone with my boys. After years of following a complicated schedule, I no longer had to worry about attending meetings, school functions (except those my sons were participating in) or board meetings. I was quick to utilize this extra time doing special things with them, even if it was just to take them shopping with me, stopping for a special treat alone with one of them or merely sitting and talking about their day. I now began to wonder how any of us had carried on before this moment, knowing how special this time had now become for me. Over the interim, Jake and I had grown closer too, and the boys didn't miss out on any of the signs that indicated this either. During that time, Jake and I had begun discussing the various matters concerning them before any decisions were made, and the boys caught on to this quite quickly. I later noticed they would sometimes play us, like some youngsters try to pit their mother against their father, and occasionally attempt to use the 'divide and conquer' technique to get what they wanted. Even though those attempts rarely worked for them, they did seem to enjoy the effort of trying to pull something over on us. Occasionally, Jake and I would knowingly let them succeed in their attempts, but only with minor issues that we knew wouldn't impact them in any significant way. I think Jake and I had as much fun playing these games as the boys did, except we knew in advance how they were going to turn out and who was going to win. Eventually, the boys began to question our relationship directly with us and asked if we were going to get married or do anything like that. We told them that for now we had decided to share many of the household duties, including making decisions about them, and planned on living as a couple, but we hadn't made any decision about how to formalize our commitment. The boys seemed slightly disappointed that we weren't planning a wedding and I could see the wheels turning in their heads, as they attempted to discover a way to make this work out like they wanted. They seemed to enjoy having both of us around, especially since it meant the family would continue to stay together, even if something happened to me. Since my heart attack, I had changed my will and made Jake the boys' guardian if I wasn't around any longer, and had legally added his name to most of the household accounts and such. I had even given Jake power of attorney, in case I was ever incapacitated, and of course, Steve Shay had helped us in drafting all of these legal documents and Jake was more than willing to take over the helm, if that time should come. Needless to say, that gave me a great deal of comfort, knowing the boys wouldn't be split up, should I suddenly cease to be around or become incapable of taking care of them. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com - but please put the story title in the subject line, so it doesn't get deleted as junk mail.