Chapter 10
Clem
“Come on, get moving you two. If you want to see where Oren’s school is Whitney, we need to get moving or it’ll be time for Oren to go to bed.” I chuckle to myself as I see both of them rushing to the truck, holding hands no less.
Ten minutes later we are parked outside Oren’s school. “I go in that gate Aunt Whitney and come out that way. The school bus waits there, but if you come for me, I’ll wait at the pickup area.” Pointing to each place he’s mentioning.
Whitney is taking in everything Oren is saying, and it’s more than obvious she will take looking out for him seriously. I keep the smirk to myself when Whitney keeps saying, “Okay.” “Oh, okay.”
“Let’s get home then. I’ll drive us the easier of the two routes home, Whitney. One way is always busy, and I never take that route if I can help it. This route takes a few minutes more, but it’s a calmer way, with less traffic.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll be picking Oren up from school very often, but I will pass this way when I’m going shopping. It will give me experience on this route. You up for coming with me on a weekend, Oren?”
Oren, of course, jumps on the question. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay, then let’s get home and settle you into bed.” I quickly drive us home, but I listen to the soft conversation that is going on between Whitney and Oren. They are like old friends who have known each other all their lives.
The next morning I’m just getting out of the truck when my phone rings. Taking it out of the top pocket of my jacket, I see it's Mr. Glenshaw. “Good morning, Principal. Is everything okay?”
Mr. Glenshaw quickly replies, “Good morning, Mr. Barstow. I have investigated the incident we spoke about. I also spoke with Mr. Perez. Now, you are certainly right. He has a chip on his shoulder, and the attitude was not what you would expect from a parent when we are discussing their child’s bullying ways.
” I can hear him suck in a breath before he continues.
“I expelled Bryan from the school. That is the long and the short of it. I don’t want that kind of child in my classrooms and bullying other children.
It has come to my attention that Bryan was being nasty to not only Oren, but to others.
I will have no repercussions from my decision as I covered the school and myself with the school board.
Please know that Oren is no longer having to face Bryan on a daily basis. ”
Now, I’m taken by surprise, but it’s a pleasant surprise. “Thank you very much, Mr. Glenshaw. That is good to hear. Not that Bryan has lost his place in the school, but Oren not having someone upsetting him each day.”
“Let’s call the matter concluded. You have a good day, Mr. Barstow. Oh, just so you know, Oren is going to take over the lead for the holiday concert. His singing of the Taylor Swift song is stunning.”
I chuckle, because Mr. Glenshaw does not know how much I’m having to listen to this song, but as long as Oren is happy and not getting into trouble I don’t mind. “Yeah, he is singing it some at home, too.”
Back at the garage I do the tune-up on my list of jobs, then look at the suspension on another.
This is going to take some work, but I need to check the brakes on Mrs. Philpott's truck. She has had this truck for years, and we keep it going no matter what needs done. It was her late husband's, and she doesn’t want to part with it, so I understand why at her age she keeps it. She should have something small, but I’ll help her keep this going.
I’ll get the brakes done and then look at the suspension job.
Covered in brake fluid, I wipe my hands as Peterson walks into the garage. “You got my vehicle ready, Barstow?”
Now, I’m good with most people, but this jackass has gotten on my last nerve. I’ve put up with his shit for four years, and I’m about done with him. Myles usually works on his vehicles because he knows I’m not one to mince words.
“No, it’s not ready. You know Myles was rushed away on family business. I’m going to get to it next.” I hold myself back from telling him where to shove his vehicle.
“It’s not good enough. You’ve had the vehicle over a week now, and I need it,” Peterson pushes.
Throwing the rag onto the workbench, I walk over to the office and grab the keys for his vehicle.
As I walk over to him I push the keys into his chest. “Take the keys and your vehicle and fuck off. I’ve got enough on my plate without you pushing.
Take your vehicle out of town to get work done, or you could use Motor Medics Garage.
” Which is on the other side of town, and renowned for its poor service.
I don’t miss the flinch from Peterson, but I’ve had it with being snarled at when I’m doing my best to keep up with jobs.
“Now, there is no need to get rash, Barstow,” handing the keys back.
“My name is Clem, and you’ve been coming here for years. If you don’t want to say Clem then you call me Mr. Barstow.” I step into him, which has him step back. “Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, no need to get angry, Mr. Barstow. I’ll leave the vehicle with you and wait for your call.” Now the little wanker rushes out of the garage like his ass is on fire.
Picking up the rag once more, I walk over to the can where all dirty rags go, ready for disposal. He can wait for his damn vehicle. I turn and walk over to the truck and give Mrs. Philpott’s vehicle a full service, including changing out all the fluids, free of charge, too.
“Oren, grab those things and put them away in your room.”
Grabbing the pajamas and shirts I piled up from the boxes Myles had delivered. “Okay, Uncle Clem,” Oren replies as he grabs them and rushes to his room.
“Put them away neatly,” I shout to him because I don’t want to have to clear out his dresser.
I know he’s rushing because we are going on our ‘date night’ with Whitney tonight.
He’s been talking about it all week, and it is Thursday now.
I didn’t want to do this on the weekend because Myles will be home.
I carry another pile of clothes through to Oren’s room and smile to myself as I see he is carefully placing his pajamas into the dresser. Good kid, he’s learning to be tidy with his things.
“Hey, Uncle Clem.”
“Yeah, what’s up, bud?”
“That man was at Aunt Whitney’s…”
Now, I don’t wait to hear more, I butt in and ask, “What man?”
“That one that was her husband.” The tone of his voice has me looking at him more closely.
Although Oren is only eight, he has the ability to act eighteen when he wants.
He has a smug look, one that says he enjoyed whatever he saw.
“I heard her tell him the past was in the past, and something about friends. I don’t think they are friends anymore.
He said he was there if she needed anything.
But,” giggling, “she told him yeah, but I know she won’t be calling him. ”
I mull over what he has said. “Do you think he’ll come again?”
“Nope.”
Nodding my head, I’m satisfied with his answer. “Well, if he does we need to make sure we run him out of town.” I hold my fist up, and Oren laughs as he fist-bumps me. An agreement we’ll mess up anything he tries to do if he comes back.
I finish putting Myles' things in the room he’ll be sleeping in and place them neatly against one wall. I’m more than happy this place has three bedrooms, and two bathrooms, with a half bath downstairs. With the three of us here soon, it’ll be needed.
Both Oren and I hurry to get through the boxes that were delivered. I’m thankful I gave Whitney a key so she could get anything Oren may need while she is taking care of him. If I hadn’t done that the delivery driver could have taken the stuff away or dumped it in the yard.
Sitting in the small Italian family restaurant, which is owned and run by Ilda Marconi, I glance around. It is an enormous hit in town, and has been since before I was born. Ilda is the daughter of the original owner and took over when Marko died.
“What do you want to eat, bud?”
Both Whitney and I wait patiently while Oren reads the menu. Myles and I have taught him to read what is on offer, make his choice, and then eat it, because we don’t waste food or money on bad choices.
“While Oren makes his mind up what would you like, Whitney?”
“I don’t want a starter, Clem. I’ll have Tortellini Alla Crema with a side salad, please.”
“What’s that?” Oren asks.
“Check the menu, Oren, then you tell me,” Whitney in her calm way requests.
Oren searches the menu, then grins. “Round shaped pasta filled with spinach and ricotta, cooked with mushrooms, garlic, white wine and cream.”
I give Oren a bright smile. “Yep, that’s it. It’s very good. Now, what have you chosen?”
“Lasagna roll-ups. It has ricotta and mozzarella,” Oren informs me with a proud look on his face.
“That’s right, bud.”
I get the orders placed, and we settle with a drink. Oren has a soda, Whitney has a glass of non-alcoholic white wine, and I have a beer. Oren talks more than anyone else and dominates the table. But it seems Whitney is okay with that, and so am I.
I can’t help but think this is one weird date, and once Myles is installed in the house, I’ll be taking Whitney on a proper date.
“I did well at school. I got an A from Mr. Brewster for my reading. He said I did very well, because we had some big words I’d not heard before.” Oren looks at me, then Whitney, for some praise, I’m sure.
“That’s great, bud,” I quickly tell him, and see his little chest puff out with pride.
“Wow, an A…Oren, that is fantastic,” Whitney gives Oren a huge smile, and nods to let him know she is very impressed.
We eat some more, and I’m watching Oren slopping his sauce all across his face. Whitney leans over with her napkin and wipes his face, winking at him to stop any embarrassment.
“Are you ready for the holiday concert?” Whitney asks Oren.
“Yeah. I take the lead when we sing the song. I’ll look for you when I sing, Aunt Whitney.”
Whitney beams, “Oh, great, I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Why do you want to wear bells?” Oren looks at Whitney like she has lost her marbles, and I can’t stop the chuckle that bursts forth.
Giggling, Whitney replies, “With bells on means that I’ll be there happily. Come with enthusiasm.”
“It’s weird,” Oren scrunches his face up.
Whitney is not going to be deterred, and I keep watching the interaction.
“The origin, which means the start, is days gone past, when a wagon would get stuck, a wagon-driver who came to the rescue often asked for a set of bells as a reward. Arriving without bells hurt a driver’s pride.
But arriving with bells on was satisfying. ”
Oren is looking at Whitney wide-eyed, then he looks at me, and I nod because I didn’t know why we said it, but I know the ‘with bells on’ saying.
“Can I leave the table and go to the restroom?” Oren asks, and I give him a nod that he can. Both Whitney and I watch him quietly walk away from the table.
“You know that’s not going to be the last we hear about bells don’t you?”
Whitney giggles. “Yeah, but you know he is clever, and he picks things up quickly. I do a lot of research with my work, and I’m going to make sure Oren has a lot of knowledge that may help him in the future.”
“That’s good of you, Whitney. I love that kid like my own, and he is clever. Trouble is, he picks up bad habits as quickly as good ones.”
“That is just kids, isn’t it? He is a fantastic companion, and I love having him after school. He’s going to make popcorn garlands with me, but he doesn’t know that yet.”
I lean forward and lower my voice. “My brother Myles is coming home tomorrow. It’s a surprise for Oren. Myles may dominate the weekend, but he’ll be back to working with me in the garage on Monday.”
“I’ll do the garlands after school with him. That isn’t a problem. I’ve been showing him how to wrap Christmas presents, and he’s good at it.”
“Have you now? Maybe I should get him to wrap mine because I have to admit I’ve started buying them bags and just dropping the gift inside.”
“Oh, that is cheating. Where’s the Christmas spirit in that?” Whitney gives me a reprimanding look right before Oren retakes his seat.
The rest of the evening is spent talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Oren is happier than I’ve seen him in a while, and I know that’s all thanks to Whitney and the way she is with him.
The one thing I never have to worry about is his being in her company.
I’m sure she sees him as a nephew, just as he sees her as an aunt.
I don’t know what Myles will think of it all, but he’s usually a good judge of character. The only time he didn’t listen to his gut was with Greta, and he’s paid for that poor judgment over and over again.