Carl MichaelsMidsummer – 11 years ago
“It seems our children have become somewhat friendly.” I smiled as I sidled up beside my boss to watch Cole and the girl chase each other around the small timber-frame building.
She was faster than him and kept calling him out for it.
She’d disappear into the thicket on the far side of the building, he’d follow, only for her to re-emerge seconds later laughing and screaming his name, “Coley!” She called him.
A loose smile played on my face, but I made a mental note to add more cardio training to his schedule for September.
If he was falling behind some little girl, he would be pathetic on the ice.
Still, even if the kid was getting his ass whooped at the moment, he could do a lot worse than being friends with the Barrett girl.
Hell. Maybe they’d even get married one day.
That would be some real fairytale shit. I eyed the two boys currently watching them from the office steps.
One looked like a fucking punk, even at ten years old.
Maybe he was some kind of charity case. No responsible parent would let their child go out into the world looking like a fucking criminal.
For fuck’s sake, the kid already has his ears pierced like some kind of queer.
And then there was the other one. He wasn’t much better.
Soft. Small. A wimp. The way he was watching Cole and the girl, with a blush, it was downright weird.
Both Frank and I had arrived at Agonde around the same time this morning.
I couldn’t fault the guy; he’d been gracious enough to chat with me while we walked from our cars to the main office.
He was a solid family man, Franklin Barrett.
It showed in the way he walked with me. I was his employee, after all.
He could have just said a quick hello and then gone on his merry way. But like I said, he was a decent guy.
I appreciated it, since the only reason I’d sent the kid here instead of training camp was because of Franklin.
Last fall, he’d visited all the Barrett Holdings building sites and talked about the company’s investment in Camp Agonde, and how it would be a great opportunity for our kids, teach them leadership skills and all that shit.
Not to mention that we would get a pretty decent Barrett Holdings employee discount.
I was exhausted from training the kid all by myself year-round.
Even his division A coaches were shit compared to the training he needed, so when the opportunity had come up two years ago to have a two-month break by sending the boy to Agonde, I jumped on it.
While the boy was gone, I celebrated with beers, bars, and women, knowing there wouldn’t be some little kid staring up at me, looking disappointed, when I came home. It was a fucking blessing.
When we arrived at the office, Frank had gone in, noting that he’d give them both our names while I waited outside.
It hadn’t been necessary, because the kids came darting around the curve in the gravel road.
When he reappeared from inside the building, they were already in the middle of their game. Hence the start of our conversation.
Neither of us said much as we watched. Or at least, not until Cole turned the tails on the girl.
He stopped mid-chase, letting her continue to run in circles around him, and as soon as she looped back around, he’d pounced.
He jumped at her, grabbing her by the arms and managing to send them both flying until they were both laying in the grass.
My son, weak-willed as he was, didn’t use that moment to win the game.
Instead, he crawled—crawled!—toward the girl asking loudly, “T, are you okay?”
Beside me, Frank grimaced, much less pleased than I was to discover the friendship blooming between our children.
“Carl, I certainly hope your son,” I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he ground his teeth over the words, “knows to mind his manners, if you should catch my drift.”
The big man’s use of my name had my spine straightening. Fuck, for a second I’d forgotten this wasn’t just some other parent I was talking to, but the guy who signed my paycheques.
“Of course, Mr. Barrett.” I answered, immediately clear in his meaning. To reinforce the point, I turned back to where the kids still played and called, “Boy! Get over here. Now!”
I used the same voice during his training sessions, so he knew I meant business.
He stopped his chase instantly, ignoring the girl and the two other dweebs still lingering nearby, as he jogged our way instead.
I turned back to the bossman and assured him, “The boy knows his place. And besides, I’ve got too many plans for the kid to let him get caught up in any funny business. ”
Realizing my mistake, I rushed, “and too much respect for you and your family, of course, sir.”
Nice touch at the end there, I congratulated myself silently as a pleased smile creased the boss’ face.
“I appreciate that, Carl,” he said, extending his hand my way.
I rarely got face time with the boss since I was just a foreman and there were about six layers of corporate ball busters between him and I, so I took advantage and shook his hand as firmly as I could.
Hopefully, he’d remember this the next time promotions were being tossed out.
After all, the kid’s hockey equipment wasn’t getting any cheaper, and he never seemed to stop growing these days.
“I have to go,” he said after releasing my hand, “I’ve just spotted another business associate I should greet. I wouldn’t want to be rude.”
“Of course, boss” I nodded as he walked away toward some suited and booted asshole who was standing at the far corner of the clearing, a tiny woman at his back. Meanwhile, my own son was finally close enough that I could grab him by the shoulder and whisper, “So, the Barrett girl?’
“Whatever, Dad.”
“Don’t whatever me, boy” The fucking attitude on this kid. Just like his mother. I squeezed his arm until he grunted. “Your sass ain’t nothin’ but a one-way ticket to me beating your ass.”
My grip held firm until he nodded, dropping his gaze. Finally giving me the respect I deserved.
“Now, the girl, I get. She’s pretty enough, but what’s with those other two fa—"
“Dad!” He had the audacity to shout at his old man. This was why I pushed him so hard. He took after his mother. Without me steering the ship, this kid was going to turn out to be a fucking pussy.