“Nooo!” he groaned, hearing another set of footsteps crunching up the gravel passageway between the Looner Module and the Sanderson’s laurel hedge. He resisted the urge to fling open the camper door and confront whoever it was out there with a fierce glare and, at the very least, an implied threat.
“Tap, tap, tap?”
The knocking sounded tentative. Almost timid. But who could tell? Was it Jenny, rapping innocently with one hand, a steak knife cocked in the other? Had Harry changed his mind and sent Bernice out with an eviction notice? Or had Andrea stopped by for dessert?
“Dad?”
“Robbie!”
He fumbled with the latch and shoved the door open, grabbing it before it swung too far, just in case his son was standing on the top step. Poking his head out, he checked to see if the coast was clear, and there stood Robbie below, a couple of plastic garbage bags sitting beside him on the gravel.
Ignoring Robbie’s sheepish grin, Buddy hurried down and clasped his son in a bear hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said, holding Robbie at arm’s length.
Robbie looked glum. Abashed. “I should have called on my way up,” he begged forgiveness, “but I didn’t know what to say.”
“Say? About what?”
“Mum lent me her car,” he replied, glancing down at the slumped garbage bags at his feet.
“Ah! I see. Getting rid of the junk?”
“Please, Dad!” Robbie winced. “I’m sort of caught in the middle here. You don’t have to get me onside. I already am… For the two of you.”
“Well said,” Buddy patted him on the shoulder. “Point taken.”
“There’s a shitload more,” Robbie nodded up the drive to where Leanne’s SUV was parked. “I figured I’d best get this stuff to you before it ended up on the racks at Value Village.”
“Thanks,” Buddy cut him short. “But we can unload the stuff later. Got time for a bite to eat before you head back?”
“Sure.”
Buddy fetched his wallet and keys from inside the camper, and they headed up Maple toward town. “You’re in luck,” Buddy enthused. “There’s a place called the Thai Pinto in the next block. Best Thai food this side of Bangkok. And at a price that won’t max out your credit card.”
“How’s Mum? And your sister?” he asked, when their conversation faltered.
“Fine.”
Buddy shot him a dubious glance.
“I haven’t talked to Gloria for a while; Mum’s soldiering on.”
They walked on in silence.
“So how’s your final year at UVic going?” Buddy asked.
“Well, actually, I might continue on into Education, Dad.”
“Makes sense.”
“Costs dollars,” Robbie joked, rubbing his fingers together.
“Don’t worry about that, son. Mum and I can help out.”
Evening. The sun dipped toward the jagged horizon and the mangy flank of Mount Brenton to the west. Buddy glanced at their shadows sliding along beside them, reshaped by the contours of the uneven sidewalk, rumpling through hedges, flickering between the gaps of white picket fences… disturbed, misshapen, but always exactly what they were supposed to be.
“I love you,” he said suddenly. “And Gloria. And Mum. Just wanted you to know that.”
“I do.”
“Good. Let’s eat.” He pushed open the door to the Thai Pinto, stepping into the infusing fragrance of Thai cooking, calmed by the gentle murmur of anonymous voices.
Creature comforts, Buddy thought, sighing silently.
He ordered a Red Curry dish because it was reasonably priced and he liked its conflicting tang and sweetness; Robbie picked Drunken Noodles because the name made him laugh and it featured six prawns.
“So how does philosophy morph into education?” Buddy asked after they’d settled in and ordered.
Robbie smiled sheepishly. “Let’s say philosophy’s the foundation; education’s a career.”
“Education’s a vocation, Rob. You know that?”
“Yeah. I’ve thought it through.”
“Have you felt it through, though? Do you have the stamina and imagination to rouse the curiosity of a bunch of kids who’d rather be playing video games or chatting on their mobiles?”
“Yes, Dad. At least, I hope so.”
Buddy held his son in an enquiring gaze.
“Good,” he said, tilting his glass in acknowledgment. “Bravo!”
“I did think of journalism,” Robbie offered.
“And?”
“I’m still feeling my way through that one.”
“I’ve never regretted that choice, Rob. It’s been a great career.”
“I’ve heard the story, Dad.” Robbie rolled his eyes. “More than once.”
“Every telling of a tale gives it a new twist,” Buddy countered.
“Okay,” Robbie tilted his glass Buddy’s way. “You lecture; I’ll eat my drunken noodles.”
~~~
They unloaded Leanne’s SUV when they got back from dinner, stashing the garbage bags under the Looner Module for the time being. Buddy had no idea what he was going to do with the stuff. Sure as hell not going to sort through it all, he figured. Not going to have a rummage sale either. The thought of making up prices while a procession of strangers picked through his belongings sickened him. Storage locker? Become a hoarder?
“See ya,” Robbie said from the open driver’s side window of Leanne’s SUV, after all the bags had been shifted.
“Thanks, Son,” Buddy stepped back to let him go.
Robbie looked doubtful. “You okay, living here, Dad?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m fine,” Buddy smiled, surprised he didn’t have to fake it. Despite what it might look like to friends and family, he felt at home in the Sanderson’s driveway.
Yeah, sure, he suddenly remembered. But what about the Emergency Escape Kit in the trunk of your car?
What would they think of him, if it ever came down to that?
It won’t, he promised.
Next: Recyclables