love, sally :)
 

DUM SPIRO, SPERO
Part 56
 

"Let me see what is costliest and most beautiful
of all the precious things my house contains..."

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation, Book 4, Lines 656-657. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

September 26, 2001

I'm gonna go insane. I'm not kidding. And it's not even the end of September.

It goes like this: get up, go to class, go to work, study, work on TMB, study some more, crash for a few.

And that's just during the week. Only time Kelly and me get any time together is studying. That's it.

You'd think we'd get a little relief on the weekend, but it's not like that, and it's not gonna be like that. Not for a long while.

I may be dead before this is all over.

At the very least, I'll never get rid of this cold. But we'll all die together. EVERYONE'S got it. We're all miserable. Only ones so far that don't are Dad and Martha. We're trying to keep it that way, too.

We're dropping like flies around here. Langly sounds like he smokes four packs a day, and so do I. Kelly's not quite so bad, but she's tired and her ear hurts and she says she can't hear on one side. Ally got better for a while, but then it came back and slammed her on the ass, and she's hacking away like crazy. The prof was complaining Friday night he had a sore throat, and so did J. We were all at Chateau Langly for J's birthday (she turned 33. She looks hot, but God that sounds old), and we were like the wettest sounding bunch on the planet. Martha was gonna bring Dad by, but he was tired and seeing as everyone there was a mess, probably good they didn't show up.

Fun, though. Played poker, and I did okay for a while, but then Byers beat the crap out of me (which figures-he always wins at cards). What was real weird, though, was how little booze everyone had. J didn't have any, and that was real bizarre, because it was her birthday and that girl can put it away. Prof and me each only had two beers, and weirdest of all, Ally and Langly each had one. Ally like sipped hers all night long. I think it was hard for her. She looked real tense. But she was sick, too, and I bet she was tired from cooking all day.

I'm glad she did, though. Great meal. She made like this Chicken Kiev, and I didn't realize how much I missed fat and cholesterol. Cucumber and onion and tomato salad-oh yeah. Garlic mashed potatoes and blueberry muffins and canteloupe and honeydew and chocolate cake for dessert, with vanilla ice cream and hot fudge.

I really felt sorry for Dad that night.

But not that sorry.

I'm sure he and Martha had fun. At least you'd think so, I came home later and they were on the sofa-together. She'd fallen asleep sitting up on the sofa, with her legs up, and Dad was all stretched out-and he had his head in her lap.

The temptation to make a loud noise and wake them up was overwhelming, but I decided, oh hell, just go to bed.

They think I got no idea what's going on. I notice when I'm there they don't kiss or hug each other. But soon as I'm gone-or they think I am-they start necking like a couple of teenagers.

I've caught 'em in the act, more than once now. I'm tempted to call Dad on it, but I think he'd deny it-or get pissed off at me for spying.

Funny thing is, I really don't think they're doing anything else. Well, I don't think so, anyway. Dad like still sleeps in his room and Martha still sleeps on the sofa. At least right now. They're so high school about the whole thing it's funny.

Only person I ratted on them to was Kelly. She thinks it's cute.

Yecch.

I think it's weird. I'm not sure what I like less, that they decided they wanna go steady or that they're hiding it from me. Think they're hiding it from me. I keep wondering when they're gonna come clean on the subject.

Course, I haven't told Dad Kelly and me are engaged, so I suppose we're sort of even. But hey, I would tell him. Only thing is, I don't feel like him having another heart attack.

And I'm sure Martha's been cool on it. Otherwise, I'd have gotten my ass kicked into another hemisphere by now.

I almost ratted on them during J's birthday party, but I figured that Langly and the prof would have way too much material to work with, and for some reason, I wasn't in the mood for it. I can just hear the jokes now. Ally'd be cool with it, but I haven't talked to her much lately. Mostly we just say hi and how are you and that kind of thing. Haven't had time to do anything else.

I haven't told Jo yet, either. But I'm gonna. When she feels better.

She had her first chemo, and it was hell. Martha took her, and I stopped by afterwards to say hi and see how she was doing.

She said she was okay, but she looked like shit, and she barfed twice in the fifteen minutes I was there. I'd stopped to get her some daisies before, and I kept thinking, you're such a jerk, Frohike, she's not gonna appreciate that. But she was so happy when I gave them to her. So next time she has chemo, I'm gonna take her flowers again. Something big and happy, like sunflowers. I like sunflowers a lot. I think they're kind of cool.

I'm not home a lot, but when I am, I have to do things like help Dad in the shower and stuff, he still gets kind of woozy. Mostly this means I have to stay near the door. This is another reason why I think he and Martha haven't done the deed yet. Plus I don't think he's in any shape to be doing it. I think if they were ready to go full on, she'd be in there with him. If they can both fit; we got a small shower. I've done it with Kelly in the shower, but only at Chateau Langly.

He got all his stitches out, and he's not quite so tired, or so he says. Just that every time I see him, he's snoring in the chair. But Martha says he's working. A couple hours a day, doing some stuff. Probably for Ms. Russell. So I guess that's good.

Another good thing: I got a 92 on my bio midterm. Not exactly acing it, but pushed myself over the magic 90, so I got the A. I'm gonna see if I can beat that the next time. Dr. Johnson is kind of a monster about homework, we get sooo much of it, but she says I'm doing great, one of her better students in the class. This makes me feel good. It's kind of new to have people praise me still.

Only problem is, I have to work my ass off to get it. No free lunch around here, that's for sure.

The prof, Langly and me managed to push the October issue out, although it was a lot shakier than usual. We're probably gonna get some nasty letters because it was a little lighter than normal. I wanted the prof to proof my stuff, but we kept missing each other, and in desperation, I gave it to my old writing teacher Casey to look at. I don't have her this semester, but I tutor her students. She tells me I'm doing great, keep going, keep writing.

Yeah, if I could only find the time!

I told her what I was taking, she says to take physics in spring, Luke her husband and my old astronomy teacher is teaching it. Luke likes me. I'm not sure why, but she and Luke both seem to think I'm okay.

It's real weird to have people think I'm terrific. And you know what? I like it.

Of course, all I have to do to get a reality check is go home. Dad's conversations with me are like, "Did you do your homework?" "Did you write your article?" "Did you pay your car insurance?"

Jesus. You'd think I was a total waste case the way he's always on me.

He hasn't been on me quite as much since he kissed Martha, though. Mostly he's like lost in this dream like haze and he doesn't pay that much attention to anything but her. This works for me right now.

I think it's good in that way that he kissed her, but it's still so...weird.

Wonder how Miranda dealt with this. I mean, watching her mom getting it together with Langly and all. I don't think she liked it a lot sometimes. But Miranda's tough. Whatever the hell else you say about her, she is a tough little cookie. I love watching her go one on one with Langly. He gets so flustered, it's funny, but he can usually have a good comeback, and that's good, because her mom lets her slide too much. Ally says she's a good kid and she doesn't have to be strict with her.

Well, okay. I mean, you probably think I hate Miranda. I don't. She can be real nice-when she wants to be. And she is good, from the point of view that she doesn't do illegal and stupid things, but the mouth on that girl. She is brutal. She's very witty and very sarcastic-and kind of mean. She's like a campus queen where she goes to school. And she knows it. I used to hate those girls. I think in a way I'm jealous of her. She's like, she's never had to worry about money much, she's got a mom and a stepdad that love her and are always there for her, and she had a dad that was nuts for her, and she gets good grades and she's pretty and cool and smart. All the things I never was.

Ally tries to be firmer with Patrick, and that's good, because he's a little version of Langly, who she needs to beat up on more, too. But she's still a mushpot underneath it all. Kids can make her back down easy, and that includes her husband. He works her shamelessly. I think she knows she's being worked-Ally isn't stupid-but she just lets it happen.

Sort of what happens with Dad and me. I know he's working me, but I give in to it, anyway.

And Kelly. Kelly can manipulate me any way she likes. She usually doesn't, but I notice she's not above it sometimes. And being a typical guy, at least a typical Frohike guy, I have no choice but to run with it.

I think Martha's more subtle about it. She's like, I don't see her bossing Dad around much, but when she says he has to do something, he pretty much doesn't argue with her, which is weird. He'll argue with any of us most times. Dad isn't good about being pushed around. So it's kind of bizarre to see this happen. Seeing him be in love.

And Christ, I know he is, because he's like with her just like I am with Kelly. I know he doesn't do PDA when I'm around, but you can tell. He is like so hot for her, I'm surprised his heart can stand it.

I have this nightmare vision of walking in from school one day and finding them naked on the sofa, caught in the act-what's the phrase Ally taught me? In flagrante delicto. Which sounds a lot nicer than saying they're boinking each other. But she says it adds up to the same thing.

Right now, though, I don't have time to worry about Dad's love life. I got only about a million other things to do. Every weekend in October is something. October 4 is my mom's wedding Jersey, and she says I got to get a suit, which I don't own. Langly offered me his recession tuxedo-you know, one of those T-shirts with a tux print on it-but I think my mom would kill
me. No, I know my mom would kill me. So Saturday, I'm going suit shopping, and I'm gonna take a pro with me. You got it, Byers. This should be interesting. At least it'll fit. Byers is positively anal that way.

Weekend after that is Mulder's 40th birthday party. He thinks it's a party for Becca, who turns 2 that day, but it's really for him. And we will show no mercy. I don't think Dad'll miss that one.

Then the next weekend, it's the prof and J's wedding, and I have to get a tux for that. I'm like, I did it for Langly's wedding, wasn't that enough? The prof didn't get the humor in it. And he scheduled everyone to get fitted the weekend before at-get this-9 a.m.!-so we'd be done in plenty of time to roast Mulder.

I can't believe Kelly's all excited about having to get a new dress for this gig. I mean, how could you be? But she and Miranda talk all the time about what dresses they're getting and what accessories and blah blah blah. The fascination in it eludes me totally.

And if it's not bad enough, weekend after THAT is my dad's birthday. And I know he says he doesn't like his birthday, but that's too fucking bad.

He's a pain in the ass, but lemme tell you, I am so glad he's gonna be around for another birthday, you wouldn't believe it. For a while there, I didn't think he would be. And that scared the hell out of me. I was scared doing some funky poaching for Mulder, but nothing like how scared I was when my dad was sick.

I'm still scared about it. He's not like the way he used to be yet, and it's still scary for me.

Most days, I feel like I'm underwater. Trying to just tread and keep my head up. I don't even have the energy to break into a full freestyle here. I'm just trying not to sink.

Maybe in November it'll get better.

Yeah, right.
 

September 27, 2001

Saturday morning. You'd think a guy could get some sleep around here.

But no!

It's not even 10 and already we got Kelly, we got Byers, we got Juliet. And Martha and Dad, they're up and around too.

I have to buy a suit. I am not looking forward to this.

For one thing, I only got my first check, and most of it went to car insurance, so I don't have much scratch. And I sort of thought it was just gonna be me and the prof, but Kelly and Juliet wanted to come, too. Why, I have no idea. I don't even wanna go!

Could be worse, I suppose.

I could have Dad take me suit shopping. That would just be too scary, though.

Kelly and Juliet and the prof are in the living room waiting for me, Dad and Martha are in the kitchen. We're still trying to keep Dad healthy. So the volume's pretty pumped up.

Me, I'm not in the mood to rush. I got like no energy. Shit, I can barely breathe. And I'm supposed to go on a shopping expedition?

I'd rather work on the cars-and lately, I really hate working on cars. And I still have to do that, too-Kelly's Mazda is being a nasty little snot about stalling out. What she really needs for it is a new engine-or a new car. She's got one cylinder that's just about gone. I keep trying to breathe life into it, but it only lasts maybe a couple days.

"Michael, everyone's waiting," Martha calls to me.

"Move your ass, dear boy!" Dad isn't quite so diplomatic about it.

"All right, all right, Jesus!" I'm just finishing putting my lenses in, which is the last thing I do.

I don't wanna go shopping. I wanna go back to bed.

And take Kelly with me.

And then get up and watch the Saturday morning cartoons in the afternoon-hey, that's what VCRs are for, you know.

I don't wanna study, I don't wanna work on cars, I don't wanna go shopping. Especially I don't wanna go shopping.

Dad glares at me. "You're wearing that?"

Okay, I'm a little light on laundry-just add it to the list of things I need to do, like I don't have enough. Okay, so the jeans are sort of ghetto and the T-shirt says 'Fuck 'Em All.' Which pretty much sums it up for me right now.

He's sitting there in the alpaca vest, and he's ragging on me about my clothes?!

"Tell you what, Dad. You get rid of the sheepdog, I'll get rid of these. Oh, and maybe you could make my laundry get done magically as well?" I'm not in a good mood.

Martha looks at me. "I'm doing some laundry for Mel - I mean, your dad today - maybe you could give it to me and I'll throw yours in?"

"You don't have to." And she doesn't. That's not her job.

"Show me where it is." She's like, and don't argue with me.

I show her into my pit-which it really looks like right now-and gather up all the stuff on the floor, and pile it into one of the laundry baskets, where it spills out all over the place. Like almost everything I own in the wardrobe department is there.

"Sorry, haven't had much time lately," I mumble to her. And to tell the truth, I'm a little weirded out at the idea she's doing my laundry...

But I really need some clothes, dammit. And if she's gonna be cool about it...

Or maybe she's just doing the be-nice-to-the-kid thing so Dad'll think she's great.

Not that she has anything to worry about.

And if it gets me clean clothes, well, that's a win.

Might be the only one I have today.
 

I figured we'd probably just go to the Chain Bridge Mall, hit Macy's or Bloomingdale's, find a decent suit, buy it and get the hell out.

This is before I went shopping with the prof.

The man is insane, I tell you.

He drags me into Nordstroms, which I know is expensive because Miranda likes this store a lot. Prof says he gets all his suits here. Of course, he can afford Nordstroms. Me, I'm lucky if I come out of Target with change.

What the real killer is, he's got a tailor here! I mean, he says he goes to this guy every time!

You can do that?

I mean, my dad shops at the Goodwill. I generally go for Army surplus,