Close To You
Chapter 4
It was the end of March, and while little hints of Spring made themselves known in Pittsburgh, in the wilds of rural Pennsylvania, only the hardiest of the early Spring plants dared to peep out of the muddy cold soil. Bree stared out of the sunporch windows; their garden had not yet fully awakened.
“Whatcha looking at, Squirt?” Brian called down from the attic balcony.
“Nothing really,” Bree replied with a sigh. “It still looks so brown and dirty,” she remarked. There were still patches of dirty snow dotting the garden and surrounding meadow.
“Winter’s not ready to give up,” Brian said as he rounded the spiral staircase toward his daughter.
“Where’s Daddy?” Bree asked.
“Following the van of his latest work to the Pitts,” said Brian. Justin’s enthusiasm for his art had returned with a vengeance. He created dozens of small triptychs and combinations. Lindsay was in raptures and suggested a new Justin Taylor show. Justin respectfully declined. Every couple weeks, Justin brought his latest to the Bloom Gallery for Lindsay to exhibit.
“Uncle John and Uncle Bobby?”
“Errands, work stuff,” Brian informed her. The Babylon project was just about finished. John was spending a lot of time in the city. “They’ll be back for dinner. Why?” Bree just shrugged her shoulders. “All your RSVPs have come back,” Brian said after a while.
“I know. Everyone said yes,” Bree said, stressing the word everyone. Brian looked down at his petite daughter and arched a brow. “Yes, even him,” said Bree as she rolled her eyes.
They both knew the “him” Bree was referring to. Brian snorted.
“So why the long face? The guests you invited are coming. You’ve decided on your menu and most of the prep is done. We’ve hosted way more guests than what’s on your list,” Brian pointed out.
“I don’t want you and Daddy cooking and cleaning all day long,” Bree said.
“I appreciate the thought; however, considering your guest list, I think that all we’ll be doing is providing the venue, the roast, chickens, and salmon,” Brian pointed out.
“You didn’t ask them, did you?” Bree asked with trepidation.
“Nope. With every RSVP, your Daddy and I received a call. Almost everyone is contributing. No coercion, I swear,” said Brian with a hand on his heart for dramatic effect. In true drama princess fashion, Bree cast her eyes skyward. “You do remember we have the ultimate party planner in our family.”
“Yesss,” Bree hissed.
“Then go consult him,” Brian told her.
“Auntie Emm is here on the lane?”
“Yes, he is. He called late last night. He and Drew will be staying for a while. Well, Emmett will. He’s taking time off to recharge before the prom and wedding season begins. His words, not mine. John turned up the heat and laid a fire before he headed out today. The cottage should be toasty by now.”
“And Uncle Drew?”
“Going back and forth until his Ironmen business is done then he’ll stay,” Brian explained. “But he’ll be here for your party,” Brian assured her. “Emm should be there by now. I don’t think he’ll mind a little company while he cleans and airs out the cottage.”
“I could help him,” Bree suggested.
“I think he’d appreciate it,” Brian said as he gently bumped Bree’s shoulder. “Wear your coat and bring Old Beau with you. He could use the exercise,” Brian said. He drew Bree into his arms for a hug then pecked her on the head before heading back up to his office.
“Okay, Dada,” Bree said with a happier tone. “Come on, Beau,” Bree called out as she scurried to her room for her coat.
Old Beau stood up from his cushion. He took his time to stretch out his muscles and give himself a good shake, preparing himself for the leisurely stroll down the lane.
“Watch out for her, Dog,” Beau heard the familiar command from his other master, the leader of his pack. Beau puffed himself up, ready to defend his young charge and guard his lane.
“Thank you, Beau,” the old dog heard as he joined Bree by the front door.
“Later, Dada!” Bree called out as she slammed the door shut.
Brian picked up his phone to send a short text.
“She’s on the way.”
“No worries. See y’all later. 😊” came the response.
Brian shook his head then returned to work.
*****
Bree and Beau started down the lane. Bree walked a little slower than usual. There were two reasons for her slower pace. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell her Auntie Emm about her party, and she saw that Beau was moving quite slowly. She knew the old dog had arthritis, but he always did anything asked of him. She could see that he was moving a little slower than usual this day.
“We can go as slow as you want,” Bree told him.
“Woof,” came the response.
“It’s okay, Beau.”
“Woof.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t make a fuss over you,” Bree said giving the dog’s neck a gentle ruffle.
“Woof,” Beau said in appreciation.
Bree opened the gate in the white picket fence and approached the front door of Emmett’s cottage. She was about to knock when she hesitated.
“What am I going to tell Auntie Emm?” she asked Beau.
Beau looked at her quizzically but didn’t say anything.
“You’re no help at all,” Bree stated. She reached out and used the knocker on the door to tell her Auntie Emm that she was there.
“Hiya, Sweetie,” Emmett gushed when he opened the door. “You could have just come in,” he told her after he gave her a warm hug.
Bree shrugged off her coat and hung it on the coat rack. “I think Beau could use a drink,” Bree said as the big dog came inside, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Coming right up,” Emmett said as he went into the kitchen and filled a bowl with water. He set it down in front of Beau who quickly lapped up a good portion of it. “Lie down by the fire,” Emmett said giving the dog a pet.
Beau sauntered toward the fireplace and flopped down far enough away from it so that he wouldn’t get too hot.
“He’s a smart dog,” Emmett said.
“Yes, he’s the best … but …”
“But what?” Emmett asked with a frown.
“Beau’s getting old,” Bree said softly. “He finds it harder and harder to get around, but he does his best.”
“We all get old,” Emmett said philosophically.
“Even you?” Bree asked with a smile.
“Well, everybody but me.”
Bree giggled, but then her face turned serious.
“What’s going on, Bree?” Emmett asked.
“Um … I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
Bree shook her head.
“You know you can talk to me.”
“I know, but…”
“But what? Tell me.”
“I’m just not sure about this birthday party,” Bree finally admitted.
“Not sure about the party? Why?”
Bree frowned and kept silent.
“You know I won’t give up until you tell me,” Emmett informed her. “I know something is bothering you and we all want you to enjoy your party, so spill.”
Bree heaved a big sigh. “I don’t want to be negative, but…”
“But what?”
“My parties were fun and exciting when I was younger. My dads always did something outrageous and way over the top.”
“Yeah, I seem to remember some humungous extravaganzas,” Emmett said with a chuckle.
“See, that’s what I mean. They’ve done all the big splashy things, and…” Bree hesitated.
“And what?”
“And I don’t think that’s what I want this year.”
“Have you told your fathers?”
“I sort of told Dada.”
“But you didn’t spell it out.”
Bree shook her head. “And all the invitations have been sent out and everybody’s coming and it’s too late to do anything about it and I just don’t know what to do. Everybody’s bringing stuff and I’ll get all those presents that I don’t really need or want and my dads will slave away getting ready for the party and during the party and they’ll be exhausted by the time it’s over.”
“Whoa! You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t want the usual kind of party that you’ve had.” Emmett studied the young lady in front of him wondering how to handle her and what she was feeling. She seemed close to tears. Her party was supposed to make her happy, not sad. After a minute or two, Emmett said, “What would your party look like if you planned the whole thing the way you want it?”
Bree looked up at him. “What difference does it make? It’s all been decided.”
“Nothing’s ever written in stone,” Emmett stated. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make some tea with lots of milk in it and I have popovers. They may help to cheer you up. And we will sort out what’s going to happen at your party.”
“How can we make things different when it’s all decided?” Bree asked shaking her head.
“Come with me, young lady,” Emmett ordered taking her hand and pulling her into the kitchen. Bree sat at the small table while Emmett made the tea and set out a small plate for each of them, along with some butter and jam for the popovers. “Here’s your tea,” Emmett said placing a mug in front of her. “I added some honey because it soothes all problems.”
Bree took a sip and her face brightened up. “This is really good,” Bree said.
“See, Auntie Emm knows best. Now have a popover and we can get this party sorted out.”
Bree took another sip of her tea and cut open a popover. She slavered some butter and jam on it and took a bite. She groaned with pleasure. “This is so good.”
“You feel better already, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Bree admitted.
“So tell me what your dream party would be like this year.”
“All the people that have been invited I really love, but it’s a lot.”
“I don’t think we can un-invite them at this point,” Emmett told her.
“I know,” Bree sighed. She took another bite of the popover to push that thought from her head.
“What else bothers you about the party?”
“Everybody works so hard. Grandma Debbie will make a huge lasagna. That’s a lot for her to do. And daddy and Dada will be cleaning and then cooking all day. It’s just too much.”
“You know you can’t really stop the people who love you from doing the things they think will make you happy.”
“See, we can’t fix anything,” Bree said with a defeated voice.
“Oh, I didn’t say we couldn’t fix it,” Emmett stated.
Bree stared at him wondering what he meant by that. He just said people were going to do what they always did.
“Tell me anything else that is bothering you. You mentioned presents.”
“I don’t need mounds of presents. There’s other people who need things more.”
“Hm,” Emmett said. Bree could see the wheels turning. “What if you sent out a secondary invitation asking people to moderate what they are bringing as you have a new menu that you want to try?”
“I do?”
“What kind of food would you like to have?”
“Um, maybe finger foods. Little bite size things like sliders and mini tacos and things on skewers, and torpedo shrimp and maybe mini crab cakes. We could have lots of vegetarian options too.”
“That’s what you’d like, huh?”
“Is that a bad idea?” Bree asked looking uncertain.
“Not at all. I think it could work. We could have a buffet table where all these things would be available all afternoon, and maybe your Dad could barbecue just one item, like chicken, instead of all the things he usually does. That would cut down on his work load. You could help your other dad clean the house, so he doesn’t have to work so hard.”
“Pppst,” Bree blew out. “I already do that.”
Emmett giggled. “I should have known.”
“Do you think we could really do this?” Bree asked suddenly serious. “Or is this totally a dream?”
“I think we can do it. We need to get your fathers on side, but it’s totally doable. Now what about presents?”
“What about them?”
“You said you didn’t really want all the stuff you’re likely to get.”
“Do you think people would donate to a charity instead?” Bree asked.
“I certainly do, especially something like Hunter’s clinic.”
“Wow, that’s a good idea.”
“Okay, finish up your popover and we’ll quickly clean up. I have a big bag of popovers for Brian. That will definitely soften him up to your ideas.”
“Oh Auntie Emm, you are the best!” She reached over and gave him a big hug.
“I am, aren’t I?” Emmett said with a laugh.
They quickly finished up at the cottage and the two of them and Old Beau made their way up the lane, armed with lots of ideas and a bag of popovers.
*****
“Look at this,” Gus gushed. He pointed to an email with a zip file attached. The boys were finishing up at Isles and getting ready to go back to their London home.
“Wow, do you think Lindsay shared this with Charles?” Ray asked.
“Not sure. But if she did, I think we’d know about it,” said Gus.
“These would be perfect for that gallery in Munich,” said Ray as they slowly scrolled through the file.
“You’re right. I’m going to call her, then Pierre,” Gus said as he took out his phone.
“It’s a little late,” Ray warned his partner.
“Not that late. Besides, I want them to go to Rose as soon as possible,” Gus stated, in full exec mode. Ray nodded as he continued scrolling through the file.
“Mom, I got the file. Yeah, sorry about that,” Gus said sheepishly, making a point at not looking at Ray who was grinning. “I’m calling first dibs, I want them for Rose,” Gus explained. “Yeah, I know you represent him. I also know that he doesn’t want to travel, not without the family. He doesn’t want any fanfare, no big openings, just nice galleries willing to showcase his work. There’s a great little gallery in Munich that expressed an interest. Rose is ready to do up a nice quiet campaign. No, I don’t want to go through Charles. He’ll grab them all for himself, selfish bastard. He already has plenty. Mom, if you were planning to hoard them then why send me the file? You know I’m right. I’ll let you know which ones we want. Good. Love you too. Later,” Gus said as he cut the connection.
“What did she call you?” Ray asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“She called me a bully; said I take after my father.”
“She’s right you know,” Ray agreed as he stood to give his partner a kiss. “You do take after your dad.”
“And you’re glad I do,” Gus smirked.
“Uh huh.” Ray kissed him again. “Go call Pierre, I’ll call Stuart.” Gus nodded as he called over to Rose.
