Cantrell: The Middle Years

Mixed Bag, a Cantrell: The Middle Years _ Update 22

The morning had been crazy. Trying to corral all six kids to get them fed, so they could help him set things out for their mother’s birthday party. Besides, gathering the eggs and cleaning the chicken coop, which the twins took turns at doing. Diligently to Erik’s gratification. Obviously, he and Kayleigh were doing something right in regards to rearing their six children.

The long tables set, the cake baked and on the table ready for his wife to blow out the candles. Erik was amused that no matter how old he got this ritual seemed required. All they needed now, was the guests to come downstairs to join in the festivities. Finally, that time arrived. 

Kayleigh, almost reluctantly approached the cake table, with the urging of her triplet sisters, who also were aging up today and Drake all but giving her a shove toward her destiny. “Can’t stop time, sweetheart. Even if you don’t blow out the candles, as someone said, just yesterday. Go on embrace the inevitable.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Kayleigh quipped with a smile. She stood there over the table, wondering if her trickster older sons had something up their sleeves for her, too. At last, she decided the candles might drip onto the cake, so she drew in a breath and blew.

As soon as the candles went out, Erik, and T’Nia, their niece, were quick to blow horns to trumpet in the moment. This, while Kayleigh twirled into full adulthood.

The room burst into applause, with a few hoopla's added. Captain Drake was the noisiest of them all. Clearly, he was enjoying himself. Erik made his way over to the other table where a bowl of fizzy fruit drink bottles sat in ice. Smiling and joking with others, he carefully loosened the cap and as easily as his older brother had, removed the cork without incident. Pouring glasses full of the sparkling liquid, his sons made the rounds delivering glasses to their family. Then Erik raised his glass high.

“If I may have your attention, for just a moment; To my Muse, my Lover, my Wife and best Friend, Mother of my six children; you were one incredible person when I first  met you, back in the Stone Ages, when we were just kids. And you are even more so, now. I loved you then, I love you even more, now, and will love you always. Happy birthday, my sweet, sweet Kayleigh. And happy birthday to Regina and Hayleigh, too.  Bonza!”

Erik had barely finished his toast, when Kayleigh began to gather up the dirty dishes. “Kayleigh, honey, that can wait.”
“No, it’s later than you think. We have to end this festivity and get ourselves to church for Midnight Services.”
“If you insist,” Erik groused.
“Oh, I do.”

“She’s right,” Drake said, standing up. “Coats everybody, let’s get down to St. James, lest we end up in the back of the church.” 
“And, consequently, the back of the Communion line, which can take for-ever,” Andrew said. In short order, the large combined family donned their outer winter wear and sped over to their parish for Christmas services.

Just about two hours later, the family returned. Jamison, looking rather troubled hung just outside of the front gate.  Erik turned when he realized he wasn’t following him and Andrew inside. “Jamison? Everything all right?” The slender boy shrugged.
“No, not really. It’s just. Dad, can we talk?”
“Of course, come inside out of the cold, first.”
“I’d rather not broadcast this to the entire family, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Okay, just what is it, son?”

Jamison, clearly struggling, drew in a deep breath and let out the smallest of sighs. “Well, It’s just. Well, it’s just that I love and respect you so much and the last thing I want to do is have you disappointed in me.” With that Jamison stepping inside the yard.
“Jamison, have you gotten a girl pregnant? Is that what this is about?”

“Oh, there’s the disappointed look,” Andrew said. Erik shot him a glance.

“No, I’ve never even kissed a girl.”
“You don’t know how glad that makes me. You’re not even fourteen. Not even so much as frizzle on your chin, yet. You leave that sort of thing for later — much later. So. What has you so unsettled? Can’t be your grades— you’re not wanting to graduate early. I said sixteen.”

Jamison shook his head. “I’m thinking of quitting my career.”
“Is that all.”
“It’s kind of a big deal to me. I didn’t want you to think I’m a quitter or anything.”
“Of course it is, sorry. But it’s your career. Your choice. So, what’s gone wrong that makes you want to quit all of a sudden? You've got to know there are going to be bumps along the way.”

“They want me to start writing my own music, but I don’t have an original tune in my head, let alone any viable lyrics. And even worse, that Orion guy wants me to go on tour. First thing in the New Year. I’ll miss too much school with that, and besides, I just want time to be a teen. Is that all right?”

“Of course. I never even considered being or doing anything else at your age. My music was everything to me. If you don’t feel the same, this industry will rip you apart.”

“I think it already has. So, I can quit?”
“It’s your call. Do what suits you, son.”
“Even after they gave me this big tile?”
“You’re a Global Superstar? When did this happen? Come here,”

“I guess. They congratulated me, slapped me on the back, that sort of thing.”
“And did you receive an invitation from the Academy in the mail?”

Digging inside his front pant pocket, he said,  “Oh, you mean this?” The boy pulled a rather crumpled looking blue cardstock envelope out of his pocket.
“If it’s legitimate, yes. What happened to it?”
“Came out of the mailbox like that. Jammed way into the back, I had to really fight to get it out.” He handed over the less than pristine blue envelope. Erik took it flipped it over a few times, frowning.

“Hm, the Letter Carrier has made a point, now and again, to let us know that she couldn’t reach the mailbox, so she stuffed the mail in as best they could. I honestly think between the two of us, we generate way too much fan mail for their liking.”
“Dereliction of duty, if you ask me,” Andrew said.

Still perusing the carefully embossed message, Erik looked up and said, “Well, then. Tomorrow, after school we’ll all head on down to the Avenue of the Stars so you can place yours. Let’s go inside before frost settles in my beard.”

“But, but, Dad, if I place my star, can I still quit?”
“Absolutely. If you really want to. It’s your career, your life. You don’t owe them anything. Besides, who knows if you’ll change your mind one year when you’re older and have another go at it, right? Best to leave some doors open.”

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The family gathered in front of the blazing fireplace in the living room, rubbing their hands together trying to rid themselves of the chill. After a short time, Erik  gathered them around their naked Christmas tree on the opposite side of the room for the sole purpose of dressing it. It was during this task Erik experienced one of those Formative Moments.

As the rest of the family began to stir, Erik whipped up a Grand Breakfast for all to partake in. 

Shortly after he made the call, bell in hand, the extended family came down the stairs and wandered into the dining room. “Something smells heavenly,” Carina said.

Much later on the family drew a visit from the infamous Father Winter.  He greeted the family, and they him. Passing out presents.

“‘Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good night!’” he quoted Livingstone, Jr, winking and nodding. Then up he went in a white plume of mist.

All for now, thanks for reading.