The birthday gift – part II

Author's note - same story, different POV - especially for those who wanted to hear more of Virgil's singing.

Standard acknowledgements still apply from first chapter. Also 'It's my party' copyright Herb Weiner/Wally Gold/John Gluck

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"IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO"

Scott hauled Virgil to his feet. "Give us a hand here, John?" John hurried to take the other side.

"CRY IF I WANT TO, CRY IF I WANT TO"

Scott turned his head to look at his father. "We'll put him to bed, Dad".

"YOU WOULD CRY TOO IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU"

"Thanks, boys. Goodnight then." Scott saw his father pour himself a whisky and walk out onto the terrace.

"IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO"

"Sure you can, birthday boy." Scott looked across at John. "I just wish he could do it a bit quieter."

"CRY IF I WANT TO, CRY IF I WANT TO"

"I just wish he wasn't quite so heavy," shot back John as they climbed the stairs. They arrived at the door of Virgil's room.

"YOU WOULD CRY TOO IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU"

Between them they manhandled their brother into the room and sat him on the bed. Scott bent down to remove Virgil's shoes.

"IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO"

"Boy, is he going to have a head on him in the morning."

"He won't be the only one. Did you see the Terrible Two?"

"CRY IF I WANT TO, CRY IF I WANT TO"

"I thought Dad had limited them to four beers each?"

"Yeah, well I guess they lost count halfway through the evening and decided to start again."

"YOU WOULD CRY TOO IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU" Virgil looked blearily at his brother. "S'my birthday, Scott."

Scott tipped Virgil backwards and swung his legs up onto the bed. "No, little brother. It was your birthday. Now it's your bedtime, and tomorrow, believe me, you are going to feel one heck of a lot older."

John watched as Scott rolled his brother onto his side and wedged a pillow behind his back so he could not roll back, before pulling up the covers. Scott had been taking care of them all for so long it was now almost automatic.

The two boys went out onto the landing. "I wonder how much of this he'll remember in the morning?" mused John.

"How much do you remember of your 18th birthday party?"

"I remember being kissed by Belinda Matheson."

"You, too? I did that on my 18th. I wonder if she's collecting Tracy scalps." Grinning, they both turned and looked at Virgil's door. "We'll ask him in the morning."

The boys lent on the banister rail, blond and dark heads side by side. From there they could see their father standing on the terrace, deep in thought.

Scott looked at his brother. "I don't think any of us will forget this 18th birthday."

John shook his head. "All through the evening I kept catching Dad looking at one or other of us. He had a look half proud, half beside himself with worry – just like when he watched you do your first solo flight when you were seventeen." He paused. "I'm only just starting to realise the implications of his plans. It's certainly going to be different from the life I envisaged as an astronomer."

"Yeah, it's one heck of a career move for all of us. It must be something he's been cooking up for some time."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's been wanting to do it for the last ten years." Both boys looked at each other. "You know, Scott, I just wish he'd talk about Mom sometimes."

"Well, if you want to know something you can always ask Grandma. She doesn't mind mentioning her."

"No, I just think it would help Dad if he could talk about her." He looked down at his father again. "Maybe now, at last, he'll be able to find some peace of mind."

As the boys watched, they saw their father raise his glass as if in a toast.