Andy’s Gift

Part Three: Double Trouble

Andy was still upstairs and everything was going on swimmingly until, in a fit of playful rough housing, a box of glass ornaments got knocked over and accidentally broken. The children had already been warned by their father and by Chris to, “Can the rough housing or take it outside,” but the warning had not been heeded, and all of a sudden CRASH!! The sound of shattering glass was accompanied by earsplitting screams that raised the hair on the necks of all three of the adults, making them drop their respective activities and rush to the scene.

“Look what you did, dope!” Jake accused his seven year old sister who was three years younger than he was.

“It was your fault!” Rebecca who was eight jumped to their younger sister’s defense as Alice started to cry.

“Was not!”

“Was to!”

“All right!” Jim held up his hand to silence the bickering as Chris scooped the bawling and frightened Bonnie into his arms. “Somebody tell me what happened.”

“It was Jake’s fault,” the eight year old Rebecca volunteered again.

“It was not!”

“Was to!”

“Was not!”

“All right! That’s enough!” their father stopped them again. “Jake, tell me how this happened,” he looked sternly at his son.

“I don’t know,” Jake started to cry. “We were just playing! We didn’t mean it to happen! It just did!”

“You weren’t ‘just playing!’” Rebecca spat. “At least Alice wasn’t. She told you to leave her alone, but you just couldn’t listen could you? You kept chasing her and trying to tickle her even when she told you to stop! This is your fault and I hope you get a spanking!”

“Shut up! I hate you!” Jake stamped his foot.

“Jake, apologize to your sister! We do not say such things,” Jim started patiently.

“It’s not fair! Everything is not my fault!” he shouted.

“Yes it is!” Rebecca countered.

“Jake, son, I highly recommend that you apologize, right now!” Jim’s voice took on a warning tone, and Jake scrunched up his face, balling his fists, and glowering at his sister as he weighed his options. “One . . .,” his father started.

“Ok!” Jake pouted. “Sorry!” Eliza and Jim turned their attention to the glass, assessing the damage as Chris settled in a chair with the sobbing Bonnie. Rebecca looked triumphant and, sneaking a look at the adults to be sure their attention was elsewhere, she stuck out her tongue at her brother. Jake could not resist the urge to yank her pigtail hard and she let out a blood curdling shriek.

“What in the world?” Eliza exclaimed as she and Jim both whirled around to face their children again.

“Jake pulled my hair!” Rebecca screamed, and Jake began to cry harder.

“Is that true, Son?” Jim asked with as much patience as he could muster.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jake protested.

“All right, Jake, go to your room!” his father commanded, forgetting momentarily where they were.

“I DO NOT HAVE a room to go to!” Jake shouted obnoxiously.

“Then go upstairs to the study,” Chris intervened quietly, “but before you do, apologize to your father!”

“It’s not fair!” Jake sobbed. “It’s not fair!”

At that moment, Andy reappeared, freshly shaven, in his own pair of tight jeans and a stunning new green turtle neck that took Chris’ breath away. “What’s going on?” he asked and the next moment Jake was in his arms, clinging to him and sobbing. “What happened, Bud?” he repeated quietly. Jake was crying too hard to answer and Andy looked at Chris inquiringly.

“He blatantly ignored three different warnings to cut the horse play, resulting in an accident that could easily have caused an injury, he spoke rudely to his sister and pulled her hair, and just now he back talked his father. He’s been told to go to the study.” Andy swallowed and his heart thumped against his chest. How those words made his skin crawl.

“Is all that true, Bud?” he asked Jake quietly, clutching him closer.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean it!” Jake sobbed.

“Ok. I know. I know you didn’t,” Andy soothed, giving up quickly on his brief attempt at the disciplinarian role, and hugging Jake to his chest.

“Jake, I told you to apologize to your father, Young Man!” Chris’ voice carried a warning tone and Jake pressed closer to Andy. “Right now!”

“Tell your sister and your father you’re sorry,” Andy whispered anxiously. Jake lifted his tear stained face to look at him and Andy brought his hand up, gently drying his tears. “Go on,” he encouraged softly.

“I’m sorry,” Jake turned tearfully to look at his sister and father once more and spoke with more genuine contrition this time.

“Ok, Son. We’ll talk about it upstairs,” Jim responded grimly.

“Daddy . . . .”

“Go on.”

“Daddy, please . . . .” Jake pushed his face into Andy’s chest again, and Andy swallowed hard as he caught Chris’ infuriated expression.

“Jacob Robert Preston, your father gave you a direction!”

‘Oh God,’ Andy thought. The full name was bad news as he knew only too well. He met his partner’s now stormy blue eyes full on, and a shiver went through him, but he pulled Jake closer even so, and Chris bit his lip in frustration.

‘Oh, Andy, no! No, don’t do this. Let’s not do this,’ he thought despairingly. Andy rightly interpreted his partner’s thoughts, but the only answer he gave was a petulant scowl, and Chris sighed inwardly, steeling himself for an emotional battle as Andy stubbornly maintained his grip on their sobbing nephew.

Eliza had been attempting to start the clean up process, having retrieved a broom, a dust pan, and a garbage bag from the kitchen. She had enlisted the reluctant help of Rebecca and Alice, assuring them when they protested that she had not been born yesterday, and was therefore confident that their innocence was not as complete as they would have her believe. Now, however, as she saw battle lines being drawn she removed herself and her two gloating daughters from the scene. “Come on Bonnie,” Eliza lifted her littlest daughter who was considerably calmer now from Chris’ lap, and then taking Alice by the hand led the way to the kitchen with Rebecca trailing after her. Chris’ intense blue eyes were focused entirely on his partner now, and he hardly noticed as Eliza and the girls made their quiet exit.

“Is Jake going to get a spanking?” Rebecca inquired victoriously as she tiptoed around the glass.

“That is between Jake and your father,” Eliza informed her daughter quietly, “and as naughty as you have been this morning, Rebecca, I would advise you to attend to your own affairs before concerning yourself with those of your brother.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Rebecca blushed a little and hung her head at the reprimand. Unlike, Jake, she knew how to quit while she was ahead.

“Jake, I am going to count to three, Son,” Jim started calmly. “One . . .,” Jake started to cry harder and Andy tightened his arms.

“Jim, he said he’s sorry . . . .”

“Andrew!” Chris’ tone was quiet, but forceful, and Andy hesitated. This was not the first time he had interfered with the disciplining of their nephew. In fact, it was the third time in as many visits that such an incident had occurred. He was very familiar with the three strikes rule and knew he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn’t help it.

“Two . . .,” Jim continued counting, and Andy’s stomach heaved violently.

“Jakey, I think you better go upstairs,” he clutched his nephew tighter, whispering into his ear.

“No, Uncle Andy, please!” The pitiful wail made Andy feel like a traitor, and he tightened his arms once more.

“Two and a half . . . . If I get to three, Son, you’re going to be in bigger trouble than you are now,” Jim cautioned quietly.

“OK, Jim! Give him a second!” The agitation caused by his clinging nephew triggered Andy’s unusually obnoxious tone and Chris rose to his feet, glowering at him in a way that made Andy’s own bottom tingle.

“Go upstairs, Jakey,” he whispered more urgently this time. “I will do what I can, Bud, but you have to go upstairs. You’re just digging yourself deeper.” Jake looked tearfully up at him and Andy swallowed hard. “Go on,” he commanded softly. Jake hung his head, but with no further argument he turned and with hunched shoulders sobbed his way out of the room.

Andy followed Jake with his eyes, too afraid to look anywhere else, but at last his nephew disappeared, and with dread Andy turned to face the two other occupants of the room. They were both glaring at him, and Andy bit his lip as he tremulously met the furious eyes of his partner. “I’m sorry, Jim,” he uttered shakily, doing the only thing he could think of to mitigate his situation.

For a moment, Jim said nothing as he fought to maintain his patience and tears sprang to Andy’s eyes. Jim followed the younger man’s gaze to see the hardened look on the face of Eliza’s brother, and all at once he melted. “It’s all right, Andy,” he said tiredly, bringing his hand to his eyes. “I know you meant well.” An awkward silence fell, and Andy brushed quickly at the tears that leaked onto his cheeks as he continued to face his silently fuming partner. Finally, Jim looked up again, but could think of nothing more to say. He snuck another look at Chris whose countenance had not softened at all, and then with a resigned little sigh, turned into the hallway and started for the stairs.

“Wait Jim,” Andy started.

“Let it go, Andy!” Chris commanded quietly. Andy looked back at his partner and bit his lip again. He was playing with fire, he knew, the kind of fire that would in all likelihood make sitting an extraordinarily uncomfortable proposition for the rest of the afternoon. All the same, his hesitation was momentary. It was clear as he looked into Chris’ raging blue eyes that he was in trouble regardless. Now, it was merely a matter of degrees, and he had promised Jake. ‘Don’t you dare!’ Chris’ eyes warned as Andy came to his silent resolution, but it was useless.

“Jim wait,” he called again, and he followed the older man into the hallway.

‘Damn it!’ Chris cursed silently to himself as he pursued his obstinate partner.

“Jim wait please . . .,”

“What Andy?” Jim stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned impatiently towards the younger man.

Chris appeared in the doorway of the living room at that moment, but went no further. He honestly didn’t trust himself not to bare his partner’s bottom and pull him down over his knee then and there.

“You’re just going to . . . I mean you won’t . . . you’re not going to . . . ?”

“To what?” Jim prompted. “Spank him?” Jim guessed the question as he read the anxiety on Andy’s face.

“I most certainly am. I would have overlooked everything else today, but you should have heard him mouth off to me.”

“I know,” Andy pleaded, “but he really is sorry. Please Jim, he’s just excited and he didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He didn’t mean to be rude! I’m sure of it! Please!” Jim brushed him off and placed his foot on the stairs, but Andy persisted, clutching at his arm. “Jim please!” Eliza’s husband hesitated as he looked at Andy’s pale face. “It’s Christmas!” Andy said softly.

Jim continued to look at him for another moment, and then ran his hand through his hair. “All right, Andy,” he said in exasperation, “all right! I won’t spank him, but he is going to remain in that room where he is until we go to the hotel, and I do not want you up there feeding him ice cream and trying to make him feel better. Is that understood?”

“Yes Sir,” Andy responded quietly, and without another word Jim turned and continued up the stairs. As Jim disappeared, Andy turned with trepidation towards his partner and quailed at his expression, trying to shrink into the wall as Chris started his way. Chris was having none of it. He had not one sympathetic bone in his body at the moment.

“Come here!” He took Andy hard by the arm and dragged him away from the wall, hustling him along towards the dining room as Andy tripped in an effort to keep up.

‘This was bad. This was very, very bad,’ Andy started to panic. ‘He’s not going to do this now is he?’ The thought hit him like a Mac truck and his hand shot instinctively to his backside. Chris had never ever spanked him while there were other people in the house. ‘Well not knowingly,’ Andy reflected sourly. His face burned once more as for the second time in two days he was forced to confront the memory of the unfortunate incident that had occurred when Chris and Douglas were roommates.

“You can take your hand off your bottom you goose,” Chris commented wryly as he pulled him into the dining room. “Sit,” he pushed him firmly into a chair at the table and opened the drawer in the tiny writing desk that stood in the corner, pulling out a medium sized black notebook and a pen.

“No not lines,” Andy begged. “Please! You know how much I hate writing lines, Chris!”

“Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you went and stuck your nose where it didn’t belong,” Chris snapped.

“Please? It’s Christmas,” Andy tried the same plea he had tried with Jim on Jake’s behalf, but it didn’t work half so well on his own. In fact the only response he got was the ‘Cut the crap!’ glare Chris had perfected to an art form, and Andy dropped his eyes, scowling sulkily at the table.

Chris opened the notebook to where Andy had left off writing the last time he’d been in trouble, and placed it on the table before him. Andy’s frown deepened. His wrist felt tired just looking at all that writing. “Please read,” Chris instructed, pointing at the page.

“I will not interfere in matters that do not concern me,” Andy’s voice rang out petulantly.

“Fine, I think that will do,” Chris replied, ignoring the tone. “You may sit here and write it until Jake comes out of his room and or Eliza and Jim leave to check into the hotel. Understood?”

“Yes,” Andrew replied unhappily. Chris started to leave and Andy stuck his tongue out at his back.

“Do that again, and we’re going to have an issue,” his partner responded without turning around.

Tears stung Andy’s eyes and he picked up the pen as he glared at the page. ‘How does he always fucking know?’ he contemplated to himself as he started to write. He had, as his wrist could certainly testify, been in trouble many times in the past for interfering in this same kind of way where Jake was concerned. ‘At least it worked this time,’ he thought resentfully, and that knowledge brought him some little bit of satisfaction as he got down to the hard business of writing.