Chapter 6 • EPILOGUE
Alan stood in the back yard, hands on hips, and stared with confusion at his sons.
"I don't understand," he said. "I didn't think either one of you was particularly fond of this sort of thing."
Don looked up from his position on the ground, where he was poring over a set of instructions. Charlie was kneeling next to him, doing the same thing. "You're not complaining, are you, Dad? This is your birthday present. When this is over you'll have a nice enclosed spa to relax in. All I have to do is keep him from translating everything into an equation. Who uses a calculator to install a hot tub?"
Charlie looked up from the plans to his brother. "None of this makes sense, otherwise. It's supposed to be a simple procedure, but whatever language these plans are written in is not my native tongue."
Don sat back on his heels. "Charlie, we need to take this one step at a time. You're concerned about the gazebo, and that's the last step. We've got a yard full of dirt and lumber and rented equipment, here. Rented by the hour. On my credit card. Let's just pick a location and start preparing the ground."
Charlie searched frantically around him for another set of instructions, finally finding them under the first set. He pulled them out to the top. "But these are no better," he protested. "There are too many options. Or maybe we have to do it all. I think that part is in French. These plans are supposed to be easy. The ground is leveled, a concrete slab is poured, the bottom of the wood deck is installed and then we need 2 x 4s? I thought the deck was 2 x 4s?" He shoved the instructions toward Don.
"I got the 2 x 4s so I would have something to hit you over the head with," Don grumbled.
Alan smiled. "When is this hot tub you picked out being delivered?"
"Tomorrow," said Don, on top of Charlie's "this afternoon". The two looked at each other.
"You said you would call and reschedule," started Don.
"I thought you would be here earlier this morning," countered Charlie.
Alan cleared his throat and both of his sons looked up at him.
"You know I am an architect," he began. "I have a passing familiarity with plans. Perhaps I could help…"
"No!" They both spoke at the same time again, looked at each other and then back at him guiltily.
"Sorry, Dad," Don apologized. "It's not that we don't think you can help. It's just that we kind-of wanted to do it together."
Charlie nodded. "Yeah. What he said."
Alan looked at his boys and decided not to tell them that the sight of them together, voluntarily and happily, was all the birthday present he ever needed. "Well, then. You have quite a day ahead of you. Could I interest you in some iced tea?"
"Sounds great, Da…". Don's voice cut off in a grunt as Charlie suddenly lunged over him for the calculator. He punched in a few numbers and waved it excitedly in Don's face.
"I'm telling you, Don, if we filter everything through Pi…"
Alan turned and went toward the house for the tea, smiling.
He was having a great birthday.
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FINIS
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A/N: Okay. This time I mean it. I explored the angst a little more for you and yet refrained from hurting anybody physically. (Unless you count the 2 x 4 over the head.) I do what I can.