The First Ninety Days Ch. 06

"What do you think, Brandon," Meredith said.

Brandon gave Meredith a short, direct look, and Jon could have sworn he was saying,We'll talk about this later. "First off," he said, "I don't know if I believe in God either," and suddenly Jon felt a lot better. "Regardless, though, it's good advice. I mean, face it: the only choice you guys have, to win over Caitlyn's mother—or toreconcile with her, for that matter—is to just stay the course, and grow your marriage to the point where it speaks for itself. So that when your mother finally gets her head out of her ass and looks around... Grandchildren, too. It's hard for any parents to argue with grandchildren."

"You had some trouble with yours, didn't you?" Caitlyn asked. "What do they think, now that they have Laurelyn?"

Brandon bit his lip for a moment. "They died," he said finally. "Private plane crash outside of DC."

There was a period of silence. Jon opened his mouth to say something, but from the look on Brandon's face, thought it might not be appropriate. Meredith gazed at her husband's face in clear anxiety for a moment, and then turned to fuss over the baby.

"My parents are delighted with her," she said, less than cheerfully. "After my brother died... It took a lot of the heart out of them. Seeing them with Laurelyn... It's like... They came alive again."

There was another moment of silence. Jon was burning with questions now (What brother?), but this didn't seem to be the time.

"Okay, this is no fit talk for newlyweds," said Zach. "We should be telling them raunchy jokes and sex suggestions, not all this... This stuff about death and parental stupidity and. Like. Stuff like that. I mean, come on! You'renewlyweds! Parents areover, you don'tever have to go back there if you don't want to!"

"Jon's been telling me that since the first day," said Caitlyn softly. "And yet we still keep going back."

Jon squeezed her hand.

"Okay, I have a question," said Brandon, breaking out of his self-imposed lethargy. "What was with that condom in the pillowcase?"

Jon and Caitlyn turned bright red.

But after they were done eating and laughing and the good mood had been restored, there was no putting off the visit to the Delaney house. They were bringing out Caitlyn's bed for its larger size, and some of the furniture in her room (a chest of drawers, for instance) and possibly her three-quarters harp, though it might bankrupt them to obtain it. Jon had had to bring his checkbook, of course; they'd only paid for and bought the full-size harp so far, and there were still some clothes and other things to secure.

Jon also immediately realized that today, a holiday, was the wrong time to call: while Caitlyn fumbled with the key, the door was opened (tearing the keychain from her grasp), revealing her father in the doorway.

"What areyou doing here," he said in his gravelly voice.

"Came back for my stuff," said Caitlyn, daunted but trying not to show it. Mr. Delaney was a big man, and could look very forbidding when he wanted to—now, for instance. A quick glance over Jon's shoulder showed that, for his friends at least, it was working; only Brandon still had his poker face on, though Meredith was rapidly reasserting hers.

"And these?" said Mr. Delaney.

"Hard to move a bed with only two people," said Caitlyn.

"We could've helped," said Mr. Delaney.

"You could've," Caitlyn agreed, her voice already stronger. "Would you?"

Mr. Delaney looked them over.

"They can't come in."

"Then we'll just set up camp right here on the doorstep," said Brandon.

"Brandon," said Christa in a cold undertone.

There was a flicker of motion behind Mr. Delaney: his wife, coming to investigate. When she saw them, her eyes hardened. "I told you to leave and never come back."

"You did," Caitlyn agreed. "You didn't mean it the first time."

"I did the second," said Mrs. Delaney coldly.

"Then get out of our way, and we'll get what we came for and never trouble you again," said Caitlyn, her voice just as hard.

Mrs. Delaney's face turned pale, but she moved aside and let Caitlyn lead her squad upstairs, trooping muddy meltwater on the clean floors.

"Jeez!" said Zach, looking around her room. "Beanie Babies! Like, half of the world's Beanie Babies right here! I hope you weren't planning on bringing them with you, 'cause we'd need five or six more cars to—"

"It's okay," Jon whispered. "It's okay. You don't—"You don't ever have to come back here, he had been going to say, but they kept disproving that statement; saying it again wouldn't make it any more true. He stroked the back of Caitlyn's head and wished there was more he could do.

"It's not easy to stand up to your parents," said Meredith softly. "One of the drawbacks of being born is that we automatically love our parents. And when we have to hurt them, it hurts us, too."

"Shouldn't it work the same for parents to kids," said Christa.

"Yes, it should," said Brandon. "But downstairs is living proof that it doesn't always."

"Now hold on," said Zach. "Sure, they may notact like they love Caitlyn very much... But from what you guys've told us, they wouldn't know how toact loving if their lives depended on it. At heart... Caitlyn, do you know what the opposite of love is?"

"No," Caitlyn sniffed.

"Hey, this is my line," Meredith protested faintly.

"It's indifference," said Zach. "If they didn't love you, Caitlyn, they wouldn't have reacted at all when you showed up. They would've just said, 'Fine, whatever,' and left it at that. The fact that they're reacting to you at all... It means they love you. Or at least care about you. Now, theproblem is, they show it in ways that you don't understand—thatany of us understand—but that doesn't change the underlying fact that they do love you."

Brandon and Meredith turned to each other. "We taught him too well," Brandon said, "he's taking our place."

"Shouldn't the opposite of love be hate," said Caitlyn.

"No," said Zach. "—or, rather, yes,within the range of emotions. But you don't hate someone who's insignificant. You don't hate someone who isn't important to you. You hate, I dunno, George Bush, because he can screw you over. But you don't hate an ant, because what can an ant do to you besides crawl up your pant leg?"

"I dunno," said Jon. "I woke up with an ant crawling on my face once. It wasn't fun."

"So I guess it wasn't necessarily accurate to say that theylove you," said Zach, "but itis accurate to say you'reimportant to them. You matter to them. There are good, true, emotional reasons—however misguided—that cause them to act towards you the way they do."

Caitlyn sighed. "I'm not sure if that's reassuring or not."

"Worry about it later," said Christa. "It's going to take ushours to get all this sorted out."

And take them hours it did; it was past dinner-time before the final load had gone into the shell-covered back of the Crane family pick-up. Caitlyn had given a final run-through of her clothes and other possessions, delineating some for movement to the apartment and consigning the others to storage at Jon's house, where they would meet their various fates (yard sale or permanent storage; the Throw-Away pile was being left here). Jon, Zach and Meredith ended up making an early run at about 4 PM, taking the first load of stored things to Jon's house; the remainder filled all three cars, though to be fair, some of it was furniture. Mr. Delaney, glowering from the recliner at the foot of the stairs, seemed inclined to open his mouth about the property they were carting away, but when he saw Brandon's face he apparently thought better of it.

About a quarter of Caitlyn's clothes were left here, and another half went back to Jon's house; the rest went with them, along with the bureau, a small kitchen table and attendant chairs, bookshelves with books, and the queen-size bed, which turned out to be long enough, though Jon still thought his extended twin would be smarter. They could wedge the full-size harp into the bedroom with the twin in; and besides, what was the point of such a huge bed when he and Caitlyn would be taking up so little space in it? But Caitlyn wanted it, so he bit his tongue. The thing he was most worried about was the clothing; she had enough of it to fill their small closet, and then where would his go? But it could be worse; going back to his house for storage was, by far, the majority of her property: all three-hundred-odd Beanie Babies, crammed into boxes, and her dolls and doll furniture, not to mention books, paintings, paperwork, the three-quarters harp and fifteen years of personal diaries. Jon had never known that a person could have so much they couldn't bear to part with, but then he stopped to wonder just how much of this might appear for sale on eBay in the near future—and, for that matter, how much of a profit they might reap from it.

Laurelyn was, for the most part, a model of patience and forbearance, but she was also only 368 days old, and she had only so much tolerance for noise and chaos and laughter and jostling around. A couple of times she cried. The first time she was satisfied by Meredith's breast to suckle (Jon thought to himself that any number of men could be similarly pacified), but the second she squalled for nearly fifteen minutes, and nothing Meredith could do would placate her. Or maybe it was just a ploy; after some attention and playing around, the baby quieted down, and Meredith could return to packing full-force. Jon caught Mrs. Delaney sort of hanging around during these periods of baby crisis, but she averted her eyes and bustled off every time he saw her. He wondered what was going through her mind. In any case, it was at dinner that Laurelynreally took off, yowling her head off to the point that Meredith was forced to retire from the restaurant for the relative peace and quiet of the Chambers's car. "Well, at least we know she's definitely our child," she quipped. "She hates big crowds."

Christa watched her go in admiration. "I don't know how she does it. There's times when that kid just drives me nuts, but you never hear Meredith complain."

"Maybe it's different 'cause it'sher kid," said Zach.

"Yeah, but she's like a sister to me," said Christa, "shouldn't that count for something?"

"Itdoes bug her," said Brandon quietly. "You just... She doesn't talk about it to most people."

"As in, to anyone but you," said Zach, smiling.

"Hey, Iam her husband," said Brandon.

"God, look at us," said Christa, shaking her head. "We just helped our friends move into an apartment. I'm legally drinking a Piña Colada. My best friend's amother, for heaven's sake, and one of my other best friends is due in... What, two weeks?"

"About," Brandon agreed.

"When did we get soold?" Christa exclaimed.

"Weren't we always," Caitlyn asked.

Everyone looked at her.

"I don't know about you, but... I've always felt... Mature," said Caitlyn. "I never felt like I was a child, or that the things that happened to me were any less important because I was young at the time. There was never a moment of, I dunno, 'Oh, I'm not a child anymore, I'm an adult now.' There was never a moment of, 'Oh, I'm a child.' I've just always been... Grown-up."

Jon found himself nodding. So was Brandon. "I know Meredith felt the same way."

"And you guys... Well, you're the most stable people I know," said Caitlyn to Zach and Christa. "You never lose perspective, you never get tripped up by the details, you... It's like nothing can faze you. And it takes a lot of maturity to be like that. There areadults who never learn it."

Everyone was nodding now.

"So... I don't think it's that we're extra grown-up now," said Caitlyn. "—Or rather, I don't think that we're extra grown-upnow, I think it's that we'vealways been this grown-up, in our hearts at least, and it's just our bodies that have finally caught up. So now we're just being who we've always been. Now we can finallybe who we've always been."

"Hear, hear," said Christa, raising her drink

"Crazy," said Brandon.

"What?" said Zach. "I think it makes sense."

"No, as in, that's what we've always been," said Brandon, grinning. "Crazy."

"Crazy for sex, you mean," Zach retorted. "Crazy forpussay!!"

"Guys," said Christa, with a grin but also a warning, directing them at Caitlyn's red face with a slight nod.

But Caitlyn made a weak grin and said, "Well, if you're sex fiends, no wonder you got married so quickly. How else would you get it regularly?"

Zach and Brandon stared at her.

"Did she just... Join in the banter?" Brandon said.

"Quick, grab a Bible," said Zach. "Look for other signs of the Apocalypse."

Dinner was like that: a light-hearted, enjoyable affair filled with good food and good company. The Cranes insisted on paying for it. "You can pay us back by cookingus dinner one day. Neither of us can cook, so most of the time we don't eat very well." Jon and Caitlyn laughed and promised to do so, even going the ultimate step of making a pinky-swear with Christa. It was the most fun Jon could remember having in a long time.

Back at the now rather-cramped apartment, the Chamberses and Cranes helped move furniture around—quickly, as it was now getting fairly late, and they still had a two-hour drive to get back to their beds in Mount Hill. The most critical object was, of course, the bed: it was not only largest, heaviest and most difficult to move, but it was also the one they would need the soonest. But while they were at it, they also managed to maneuver the bureau drawers into the bedroom, and then stood the bookshelves up, parked the table and chairs in the middle of the room, and declared the furniture 'in place.' "At least, at the moment," said Brandon. "You'll probably want a couch, a TV, kitchen gear..."

"Yeah, there's gonna be a lot of shopping tomorrow," said Jon.

"And a lot of unpacking," Caitlyn said, eyeing the boxes, hampers and crates without enthusiasm. "If we're just leaving in six months, maybe we should just leave everything boxed."

"Not the clothes," Jon said, "those we at least gotta hang. Or shelve."

"Yeah, but, everything else."

"Not if you want this to be, like, our place. Things in boxes is just a storage room. Things on shelves, decorations on the walls... That's ahome."

"Yeah... We could put my lighthouse painting up on that wall... —Ooh, and the harp one over in the corner. That can be the harp corner! And—"

"Well, I can see our job is done here," said Brandon, grinning.

"Thank you so much for your help," Jon said. "I'd offer you folks room and board for the night, but... As you can see, there isn't a lot of room, and even less board."

"What is 'board,' anyway," Christa asked.

"Food," said Brandon, the History major.

"Yeah,we offeredyou that," Christa said, grinning.

"Why 'board'?" said Meredith, nursing Laurelyn. "Am I a board?"

"No, it's... I dunno, something about tables," said Brandon. "Like, a buffet table or something?"

"What, am I atable," said Meredith, genuinely confused.

Jon laughed and bade them goodnight.

Caitlyn was already wandering around the room, scoping out their various options for decoration. "Do you think the Kelsings will mind if we repaint their walls?"

Jon laughed. "I think that we should ask them before we hit the Sherwin-Williams store, if that's what you're thinking."

"Yeah, we should, but, wow, we could do such cool things with this room! This white stuff on the walls, it's boring, we could, I dunno, we'd need something to match the carpets, but after that... And we should probably get an air freshener in here, and..."

Jon kissed her on the cheek and left her to her excited burbling. For his part, he wanted two things: a piss and a shower.

The stall was not quite big enough for two people, but he thought they could squeeze if they really had to.We might have to try some of this standing-up sex thing. He also realized he should probably be careful about his shower durations; they were drawing from a communal hot-water heater, and a needlessly long shower could empty the reservoir for someone else down the line—or maybe even for himself. Fortunately, five-minute showers were his norm. Caitlyn might have some problems, though; she liked a half-hour or more.

It was only 10 PM, but the truth was, he was tired. It had been a long and demanding day—a rewarding one, to be sure, but demanding as well, both physically and emotionally. He had made some new friends, but faced down some enemies too; and on top of that he'd been physically moving non-stop except for lunch and dinner. As he saw it, it was time to get some rest. He unpacked his clothes, hanging most of them up and designating a single bureau drawer for his underclothes, and then went out for the bedclothes that Caitlyn had brought from her home.

"Going to bed already?" she asked.

"It's late," said Jon. "—Well, it's notthat late. But it's lateenough, and I'm tired."

"You're an old man," said Caitlyn, grinning.

"And you'remarried to an old man, so who's out of luck there," Jon returned with an arch smile.

"You weren't old when I married you," said Caitlyn. She gave his body a once-over. It had become their custom to sleep without clothes on; it was a lot more convenient. "You look pretty spry, too, for such an old geezer."

"Well," said Jon modestly. "I do my best."

"So," she purred, slinking over to him. "This 'sleep' you speak of. Is that an invitation to... Join you for some... Private time?"

"Actually, I was just going to sleep," said Jon, and she gave him such an eyebrow that he laughed aloud. "But, obviously, if you can convince me otherwise..."

"Hmm," she said, grinning. "Give me a few minutes to shower, and maybe I can."

But he never found out, because by the time she came out of the shower, he actually was asleep, and that was that.