Charles Helps His Mother Feel Pleasure Again Chapter 8 Fix
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“What are you two boys talking about back there? I can’t hear you because of the music I’m playing. Is everything all right?” Shirley questioned after turning down her music.
“Yes, Mrs. Fleming. Everything’s just fine. Can I ask you a question, Ma’am?” I asked, popping my head over the back of the front seat.
She responded, “Sure Charles, anything! What do you want to know, Honey?”
“Well, you were a twelve-year-old girl, once?”
“Yes, Charles, I was,” she said with a charming giggle of her own.
“Yeah well, today at the BBQ after saying ‘Hi’ to everybody I meet and talking about school and the weather, and dance class, what should I discuss that won’t make me sound like a goofball?”
That made her, and Brian both laugh.
“Well Charles, a young lady always likes to be told how she looks. That’s a nice blouse, a pretty dress, or cute shoes. You know, compliment her and her mother when you meet her, that’s very important. Like you said, school is a good topic, especially since you go to different schools. Find out what subjects she likes best and who her favorite teachers are. Furthermore, ask her about what she likes to do in her spare time — you know, for fun.”
“Wow. That’s some good stuff, Mrs. Fleming. You know, I wouldn’t doubt it at all if you were the prettiest girl in your sixth-grade class.”
“Well Charles, thank you. That’s very sweet of you to say,” she said.
Brian pulled me back and hit me in the arm and mouthed, ‘What the hell?’ to me.
Whispering, I said to him, “What? I was just being nice to your mother.”
“Well, don’t hit on her?” Brian whispered back to me.
“I wasn’t hitting on her. I was just trying out, on her, what she had said. Get a grip, dude! Your Mom is pretty in an older non-redheaded sort of way.”
“Hey, what did you hit me again? I was just being nice.”
“Well, be that way with your own mother, or Claire -- OK? Back off!”
We sat in relative quiet for a while looking around through the windows. We were in a part of town I didn’t know at all. All the avenues were named after US Presidents going one way and numbered streets going the other. I knew we were on Chester Arthur Avenue going west — Orienteering Merit Badge to the rescue.
Brian’s mom broke the silence and said, “It’s around here, boys. We’re getting close ... Keep your eyes open. It’s just off the corner of Chester Arthur Avenue and 88th Street Road.”
“There are probably a lot of cars there, so that will help us too,” Brian added.
“There it is, up ahead. Look at that house? Wow! There must be seven or maybe eight bedrooms in that mansion.”
She was slowing down. “OK boys, be ready to get out — remember to be nice to everyone. Call everybody Mister and Misses. Charles, don’t end up engaged to Claire at the end of this party? Your mother doesn’t want to lose her little boy yet,” she chuckled.
“Mrs. Fleming, that’s not funny,” I responded. “Hmmm. Brian, will you be my best man?”
The look on his face was classic!
“Just kidding, dude. Lighten up. This is bound to be fun. Let’s not let our mouths write a check that our asses can’t cash.”
Mrs. Fleming was giggling, but trying to hold it in, “Well said, Charles ... OK boys, just call me when you’re ready to be picked up.”
“Thank you, Mrs. F,” I said.
We were walking up to the house about to ring the doorbell, when the screen door swung open and a little girl probably Claire’s little sister came out.
Nope, I remember now. Her sister is older than her. This little girl has lovely long red hair as well.
How cute is she?
“Hello. My name is Kalista. It means ‘The most beautiful one!’” she said looking up into my eyes, quite proudly.
Getting down to my haunches, I said, “Hello Kalista. My name is Charles Newman, and this is Brian Fleming. Can we come in, please?”
She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old. Is she going to be a heartbreaker when she gets to be older, or what?
“Yes, you may, Charles and Brian. Please go straight through the house into the backyard?”
She said it as though someone had helped her to memorize it. She must be standing right by the door waiting for everyone to arrive.
“Thank you, Kalista,” I said to her getting up. “That is a very pretty dress!”
“Gee, thank you, Charles,” she smiled, curtseyed, and giggled.
Brian remarked as we walked into the house, “Charles, you really are a charmer, you know. You probably made her day.”
“As cute as she is, Brian, everybody will likely say something like that to her today. Let’s go to the lions.”
We both laughed as we walked inside the house.
While on our way to the backyard to meet the ‘thundering horde,’ Brian and I stopped and noticed a woman who was coming out of the kitchen carrying some food. Her hair was the exact same shade of red as Claire’s. She has got to be her mother.
“Mrs. McArthur. Can we help you carry something outside?”
Brian looked over at me.
“Well, who’s this? Yes, you can help boys, both of you. Oh? You must be Charles and Brian. Welcome, and thank you. How did you know who I was?” she said with a grin.
“Mrs. McArthur, you look just like Claire, only prettier.”
“Aren’t you the charmer, so you must be Charles and this handsome young man is Brian?”
“Yes, Ma’am — you got it in one.”
Brian loves that expression.
Brian looked over at me again and said quietly, “Charles, you dog. You are something else.”
Ignoring him, I asked, “What can we help you carry outside, Mrs. McArthur?”
“Well, Charles,” she said glancing around. “You can carry the hot dogs and hamburgers to the cook, my husband. Brian ... you can ... carry the hamburger and hot dog buns to the first table on your right once you get outside.”
“Sure, thing, Mrs. M,” Brian responded.
So, now, we’re carrying food out of the back door and who do we see the moment we exit into the back yard? None other than our delightful looking dance partners, Claire, and Susan!
Susan had her long blonde hair in pigtails and was wearing a pretty, pink blouse that had sequins on it. She had on a pair of blue jeans that looked brand new. A very different look for her. She is almost as cute as my Claire.
Claire’s shimmering red hair was also in pigtails, looking shorter than I remembered from the Cotillion. She was wearing a matching soft blue blouse, also with sequins on it. To complete her ensemble, she was also wearing jeans, but they looked a little worn. I hadn’t realized how attractively slim she was until this moment.
Claire said, “Hey you two — glad you could make it. Charles, follow me, I will take you to my daddy who is cooking the food. Susan, why don’t you direct Brian to where the buns need to go?”
Susan giggled at the word ‘buns.’
“Claire, you look awesome. I almost didn’t recognize you with the pigtails and jeans. Fortunately, your hair color gave you away.”
She turned on me saying, “I don’t color my hair, Charles!”
“No ... no, NO! that’s not what I meant, I meant...”
“I know, X! I was just messing with you. Calm down.” There are those dimples again.
“Brian and I ran into your mother coming out of the kitchen and offered to help. I surprised her because you have the same beautiful shade of red hair.”
“Beautiful! Oh, Charles, I’m going to have to keep you around me if you are going to use words like beautiful,” she said, gazing deep into my eyes for only a moment.
“That’s all right with me too, Claire. I like having you next to me. It makes me feel good inside,” I replied.
“You are so sweet, X.” With that, she gave me a little peck on the cheek. I was embarrassed, but I don’t think I blushed. Thank God.
Mrs. McArthur came outside and spoke: “Attention, Attention Everybody. We’re going to start cooking in a bit. We’re still waiting for Ken and his family before we start any official ‘McArthur Family Games.’”
“Games?” I questioned to Claire, “What kind of games?”
“You’ll find out X. Have a little patience and relax. You look like you are about to be thrown into the lion’s den,” my Cotillion dance partner said with a giggle.
I chuckled considering I had said those very words to Brian on our way here. Claire took my upper arm, with both hands, and we wandered around as she introduced me to her brothers and sister as well as her in-laws and out-laws. She giggled when she said that. She also brought me up to speed on the fact that she and Susan are BFFs and have known each other for almost as long as had Brian and me.
With her arms wrapped around mine, she walked up to her father who had started cooking and said, “Daddy. This is Charles Newman. We met at Cotillion this past Tuesday night, and he is my favorite dancing partner, after you, of course. Charles. This is Daniel McArthur, my father.”
My best guess is that Daniel was near my father’s age, but had mostly silver hair, looking very distinguished.
After taking the platter of food from me, he took off a glove and we shook hands.
I said, “Wonderful to meet you, Sir. Thank you for letting Claire invite me to your Annual McArthur Family BBQ. You have a wonderful house from what I have seen, and this backyard is amazing. I met your wife inside, and I see that Claire gets her looks from both of you, her mother’s hair and your great big smile.”
“Isn’t he just the nicest young man you have ever met, Daddy?” Claire beamed.
“You know CC; he might just be,” he answered smiling back at her.
He messed up my hair like adults often do.
“Thank you, Sir. Claire is the nicest girl I have ever met, and we seem to get along, especially on the dance floor.” I started fixing my hair, but Claire slapped my hand away doing it for me.
Her father responded, “You know Claire. That’s right. I forgot something. Excuse me, you two?”
“RUSSELL!” he yelled to one of the boys nearby, “Come here?”
He started a very animated conversation with this young man who then left quickly back into the house.
“I almost forgot the surprise I got for you, CC,” her father said.
“Oh, Daddy, what? What is it?”
“You will know soon enough. All right kids, move along ... I have lots of food to cook.”
He had at least four grills surrounding him on three sides. One had charcoal, while the others were propane, it appeared. I saw a large bottle labeled ‘Secret Sauce!’ Cool!
Russell came back out with a large box in his arms along with five other young men carrying similarly sized boxes. Russell got Claire’s father’s attention and asked, “Do you want it over here, Mr. McArthur?”
“YES,” he responded.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Mr. McArthur?” I asked.
“No son, you are a guest. Your work ... will be later,” he said mysteriously.
“All right, Sir. I’m not afraid of hard work. I received my Eagle Scout Rank with Two Palms only three months ago.”
Mr. McArthur asked me, “Exactly, how many Merit Badges have you earned, Charles?”
“Well sir, out of over a hundred and thirty available I have only earned sixty-seven so far, but I can earn them until I become eighteen. Who knows how many more I might end up with, Sir?”
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