Vanilla Bear
2011-03-07 16:19:42 UTC
"I was starting to wonder if you were alive in there," he says as he pushes past me and steps inside. He's soaking wet, water dripping off him and landing on the floor that I just mopped not more than fifteen minutes ago.
"Take off your shoes before you..." I don't even finish my sentence before he walks on the carpet, splotches of mud following his movements. I put my head in my hands and sigh loud enough for him to turn around and look at the ground.
"Oops," he says as he shrugs his shoulders. He pulls off his shoes and then carries on with his business. "You got any food?"
"Believe it or not, there's actually some food in the kitchen," I tell him as I get on my knees and start cleaning up his mess with a rag. Leave it to Kevin to destroy something as soon as he enters my house. I'm just glad it was easier to tidy up than when Sammy gets into the pasta, which happens more often than someone might think.
Kevin is stuffing his face with a sandwich when I return, a bit of mustard on his chin. I don't know how his girlfriend puts up with him always being hungry. I twist my face in disgust as his chewing grows louder and less of it makes it into his mouth.
"Were you seriously that hungry?" I ask after he finishes.
"I haven't eaten at all today. Michael's been up my *** trying to figure out what we're going to do tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, I need a favor."
"A favor?"
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "I have a serious problem on my hands here."
"And you thought that venting in person would help? I'm flattered, Kev, really but I have things to do." Okay, so maybe I don't have anything to do, but I'm just trying to get out of helping him again.
"I don't have a drum major for the competition tomorrow." Drum majors are like the gods of marching band. They keep the band on task and tempo, making sure they do their job. He, well most of the time it's a he, flaps his arms around like an idiot and wears a different uniform just to help the band out with their overall performance.
"Well what happened to the other one?"
"His grandpa died last night and he can't make it."
"Oh...There's no one else who can do it?"
"Nope."
"It's a marching band; I'm sure there's someone else who could give it a shot."
"There's not. The only person that I would even consider for this job is Natalie,
but she has a trumpet solo in the first movement."
Now I understand why he's really here. You see, I used to be one of those arm-flapping idiots with a bedazzled uniform, but that was ten years ago. I did it to impress the girls in band, but that just drove them away, which is odd because they usually love
authority figures.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
He rolls his eyes like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I want you to be our drum major."
I shake my head. "No chance in hell."
"Why?"
As soon as he asks that, I hear the wailing sound of my son crying from upstairs. Kevin trails behind me as I run up to his room, continuing on with his whining. Sammy has tears strolling down his face and he screams louder as I get closer. I pick him up and gently begin to rub his back, the alarmed feeling from this morning returning as I feel
how warm it is.
"It's okay, Sammy. It's okay." I whisper as he hiccups. He tightens his grip around my neck when I reach for the thermometer. I motion for Kevin to come over and he does as I stick it in my son's ear, waiting as patiently as I can. "What does it say?" I ask when it starts beeping.
He squints and moves closer. "One o' one."
"Great," I mumble. I give him some medicine and Kevin goes back downstairs when I sit down in a chair next to his bed. After a few minutes of rocking him, Sammy is out like a light, so I lay him down and cover him up to let him get some rest.
Kevin is sprawled out on the couch and flipping through the television channels when I see him next. "He okay?"
~
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