ARROW - 233. Chapter 233

Mornings are the same for me, but this morning was different. I started to pack for our trip to Paris. I was happy, Carl came rushing in, “Where’s my son?” I pointed to the bed.

“You scared me, Dad.”

“Carl, sit down and tell me why you are acting this way about the baby.”

“I’m afraid that my father or his friends will come and grab him.”

“Your father is in jail along with his two friends. They can’t hurt you.”

“People in jail talk. He probably told his friends why he is there.”

“I don’t know too much about what is discussed in jail. But any person with children who hears why your father is in jail would soon take action. Just because a person is in jail doesn’t mean they have no sense of right or wrong in regard to children. Some of those men are fathers.”

“Until they are all dead, I can’t take chances.”

I understood Carl’s position, his life with his father was a living hell. I shuddered when I thought of what he had gone through. But, there must be an end to his nightmare. I heard the rocking chair.

I took the baby and went to the garden on the roof. Sitting there, the baby was fascinated with a butterfly. Every half hour, Carl would check on his son.

“We are watching the butterfly.” Sitting next to me, he took the baby and began to play with him. I watched, he would nestle his face in the baby’s chest playing peek-a-boo. As I watched I felt angry that Carl had a fear that would direct his actions with all of his children. Carl’s father and his cohorts were in jail and in a way so was Carl.

Carl went back to his painting and the baby and I sat in the garden.

Carl must have thought a lot about our early discussion. “Dad, I’m going home to get his bottle, I’ll be right back.”

This was the first time Carl left me with the baby. Generally, he was only a few feet from me.

Before he left, I heard, “Dad, where are you?”

It was Carla. “We are in the garden.”

“Dad, where is Carl? I want to take the baby home. He needs to have his lunch and nap.”

“He is in his studio.”

“I checked and he wasn’t there.”

“Then he’s in the shop. Say here and I’ll get him.”

Getting him out of the shop was easy. I went to the study and stamped on the floor three times. Walking back to the roof garden, I could hear him on the steps.

“He’s coming.” I watched as he raced into the garden and then stopped as he saw Carla with the baby.

Letting out a breath, “I thought something was wrong. You scared me, Dad.”

Something has to be done to get this man to relax.

Carl, Cara with the baby left. I actually walked to the road with them. I have a new project for Colin, a bridge over the road so they can cross safely.

Instead of going home, I closed up the house and headed to the Home for lunch. I convinced myself that was the reason.

Over lunch, I told Tommy and Pepe that Pop and I were going to Paris to see Pierre’s cottage. Tommy and Pepe moved into Pat’s so we had lunch in the sun room. Gerry joined us for coffee after he had lunch with the kids.

It was close to 3 when I left, I had to be home in time to heat the soup as Ronnie’s kids would be arriving.

I heard the car stop, thinking it was Ronnie with his kids, I started to get the milk ready, “Richie, I thought you were Ronnie dropping off his family.”

“I have a favor to ask. Anne Marie is going with Julia and I will be with Ronnie, so”

I didn’t let him finish. I went outside and brought the kids in. His boys remind me so much of him and his little girl was the apple of my eye, as Colin would say. The kids were happy, and now we waited for the other group. Richie’s three, and Ronnie’s seven would make the house feel alive.

Now I had a kitchen helper, so I thought. “Dad, can they sleep here? We will be late getting back and I don’t know what time Anne Marie will be home.”

“Bring over their sleeping clothes and clothes for tomorrow.” I just finished saying that when Ronnie walked in.

“Are you going to be alright, Dad?”

“Yes, bring their clothes for tomorrow and PJ’s. We’ll camp out tonight.” That meant sleeping on the floor in Pop’s sleeping bags.”

“How’s that sound, kids.” The usual response, yea. Except Ronnie’s to older girls, they preferred a bed.

The boys left returning with clothes for the kids.

I had helpers in the kitchen, Ronnie’s two girls. They filled glasses with chocolate milk, stirred the soup, and took slices of buttered bread to the dining room table. I told them to take the bowls and soup spoons and I’ll bring in the pan of hot soup. I stirred the soup as it heated. At one point a filled a small bowl, that was for Richie’s daughter.

The kids who had homework were busy when I walked in with the pot of soup. I don’t know how Charles does it, but his soup teases the appetite so that you must take at least one spoonful. Books away it was time for serious eating.

I filled the bowls, the boys took them to the kids finishing with their bowls. While we were eating I asked about school. I remember when our boys would come home and tell us tales of the school day And now their children do but there isn’t much difference except the names. We laughed, I had to say a few tsk tsk and then laugh as well. With the soup finished, the table cleared, dishwasher loaded, we went and brought up the sleeping bags.