Aidan/Emilia: Happy Birthday... Katey?

A thing I didn't really bring up during the Taxes post is that, while filling out forms, we were reminded that we'd missed Monica's birthday in early March and that Katey's is the 28st of April.  I asked Rusty if she wanted to do something for it, but she said no; she'd just celebrated her real birthday, after all, although she did have some fun with how she's older than Kutter right now.  

Indeed, we'd all more or less figured it was no big deal, just making a couple of jokes in the morning, until we got to trivia that night.  Trivia's been a bit odd since Rusty was laid off from her old job; she still counts Razzie and Chandra as friends, but that they stayed while she was pushed out stings.  It's not making it better that things are actually looking much worse, and the company may just collapse entirely, although maybe it will be different when things do entirely fall apart.  The point is that we were all focused on the weirdness on Rusty's side of the table that we were completely blindsided when Lettie brought a lot of other folks from the office to sing "Happy Birthday", present her with gift cards, and then bring out a birthday cake at the midway point.

I don't think I've seen the particular expression on Kutter's face before, either as Katey or her real self - blushing red; eyes shut, covered, and pointed down; whole body quivering in a way that could be laughing or crying; but beaming wide.  The hair kind of shielding the sides of her face adds something to it that maybe it wouldn't have as a guy, perhaps.  She seemed deeply embarrassed that people would be giving her that sort of attention but appreciating it.  It made me feel pretty good because while Kutter's never exactly been what people call an introvert, he was never really one to find himself at the center of a circle in school or at camp or anything.  He's always been dependable and funny and able to poke back at me and Rusty, but sometimes I kind of think that people, maybe including me, took him being organized and conscientious for granted.

The affection from her colleagues seems pretty real, too - I already knew Lettie, but had only heard about Max, Jen, and "Ms. Grayson" second-hand - and, meeting her, I kind of get why Kutter can't quite bring herself to use her given name, even though I know I'm older and more experienced than her; she's friendly but always seems a step ahead of you - and it was kind of fun to have a cheering section.  Admittedly, I'm none too fond of Ms. Grayson's boss, who was paying entirely too much attention to my and Chandra's chests.  Though, I must admit, I often figure better me than the kids when we're out together.

After trivia, I wasn't surprised when her office-mates wanted to take "Katey" out for a few more drinks, and I kept myself from saying something like "be safe!" as she walked off, because that's a Dad thing to say rather than a roommate thing.  I still waited up for her after Rusty hit the sack, though I've got the excuse of how neither the bookstore nor the bar every wants me in as early as the kids' jobs do.

She came in at 1am or so and plopped down next to me on the couch, kicking off her heels.  "Oh my god why is tequila?"

I laughed before asking if she was going to be okay for work the next day.

"If I'm not, the folks at work have nobody to blame but themselves.  But I'll be fine.  It is my job to make the coffee and to order the coffee and there is going to be so much coffee."

I chuckled.  "Eh, they'll cut you some slack; they really seem to like you."

"Nah, they like Katey.  They like the girl I'm pretending to be.  But they'll have another one in a month and a half and won't know the difference, right?

"Hey, near as I can tell, Katey is about ninety percent Kutter, which isn't ideal, but pretty good.  Folks will definitely notice the difference."

"Well, maybe I should make it easy for them, tell them I have to move back home.  Wouldn't be a lie!"  She got up from the couch and then stood very still for a moment.  "Then again, they might throw me another party."

I laughed and waited for her to be done with the bathroom and flopped down into bed before doing the same myself.  So far as I can tell, they both managed to get to work OK this morning.

-Aidan/Emilia

Marc/Ed: Flirting with Danger

With Christine seemingly out of my life -- for the best but it doesn't feel that way -- I have a bit more free time. Too much, I would say. I've become the cliche of an old man puttering around the house all day waiting for his family to call.

Which Pam did, this past weekend, with an odd request: "I picked up a shift Saturday afternoon, would you take Cayden on his date?"

"On his what?"

Seems "Cayden" rehabilitated his reputation at school to the point where he was able to start "going out" with a little girl named Magnolia, which I heard a bit about going as far back as Thanksgiving.

"Don't sound so shocked, dad, they're just kids and they want to go see the stupid Minecraft movie. They're too young to know what dating really entails."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that... what with the TV and the YouTube." I swear, sometimes I sound exactly like the old man I am.

Part of me wanted no part of it, but I felt like it would be irresponsible of me to wash my hands of it completely, as the only person who is aware of the boy's true nature. When we had a moment alone before setting out I asked, "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

"Ugh," he grunted, seemingly irritated by my questioning. "What do you think? Two children are going to see a children's movie."

"John, seriously," I sighed.

"What do you want from me, Marc?" there was palpable, very adult irritation in his voice. "I've felt alienated and drained since I got here. It's not good to feel like such an outsider all the time. I made a decision a long time ago that I was going to see these children as my contemporaries as much as possible. Learn about them, relate to them... is it really any different from your dalliance with that Christine woman?"

"Yes it is," I guffawed, "For a variety of reasons I shouldn't have to tell you."

"You're right, it is," he said, folding his arms across his chest and holding his nose in the air, "I, for one, am actually capable of keeping things innocent."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I was more amused than offended.

"It means that you had no business even broaching a sexual relationship with that woman if you had no intention of following through with it. You led her on in a way you couldn't possibly make good on. I'm just a friend to this Magnolia girl. She's sharper than others, she has a good vocabulary, she's interested in things I have to say."

"Oh yeah? What's her take on tariffs?"

"Don't be like that," he sneered. "I only mean that being around her is slightly less mind-numbing than others. Anyway. This is strictly platonic. We're eleven for crying out loud. She asked me if I wanted to see this stupid movie, and I haven't been to the cinema in ages."

"So this is just your way of keeping busy."

"Exactly. Harmless socializing."

"Okay, I'm satisfied," I told him.

We arrived at Magnolia's, who's parents were all "Isn't this so cute" and I had to pretend I felt so too. It was interesting seeing John in "Cayden" mode, although he doesn't make a very convincing kid, still tossing ten-dollar words around and saying words like "cool" in a distinctly stilted way. Magnolia was clearly very happy to be out with him though, which was sweet and a little sad. When they were together, she did most of the talking, which I took as a tactical decision from John.

There was a few funny moments -- one when he begrudgingly went to sit in the back seat with her (bless the innocent child, she didn't try to hold his hand or anything) -- and one when Fleetwood Mac came on the radio. "Oh, I love this song," he said, "I remember when I saw them at--" and then stopped, trying to figure out how to finish that thought.

"You mean when I showed you them on YouTube?" I interjected.

"Yeah, that's right Grampa."

The girl politely bobbed her head through the song.

A hundred or so dollars on tickets and treats -- and one harmless if nonsensical (to me) flick later, the kids still had some energy to burn off so I gave them some more money for the arcade. "Cayden" actually appeared to be having fun at points, especially when they played something more generationally-open like air hockey.

When I got home, exhausted just from watching such youthful energy, I realized my phone was still off from when I went into the theater, which isn't a problem usually as besides Pam there isn't really anyone who wants to talk to me.

Except of course there was... a new message from Christine, which I was both glad and sad to get. 

"Hate to ask, but I need help. Let's talk?"

We have an outing set up for her to explain what exactly is going on.

-Marc

Aidan/Emilia: Life & Taxes

Has anybody else ever blogged about how the Inn tends to change people in the middle of summer, disrupting their lives enough to trigger a job change or even a move, meaning that there's a lot you don't necessarily know about half the previous year when it comes time to file "your" taxes?  Probably not, because it's neither traumatic nor sexy, but it is a real pain in the neck. 

I must admit, I was kind of slow on the uptake, because it didn't really occur to me that the kids were not going to be my dependents until I started filling out forms.  Then it just sort of gets bigger and bigger.  I had never given much thought to the insurance card in my wallet, since I inherited a pretty darn healthy shape and have not had to go to the doctor, but it turns out that Emilia was on her father's insurance, so I have to get in touch with him to make sure I get sent the proper paperwork.  I had to dig through her computer to find out about the work study job she had during her senior year and get in contact with the University to get the pepper forms forwarded on. 

(Did these girls ever fill out change of address forms after graduating?  Now that I think about it, I don't remember ever seeing anything forwarded to this apartment, but figured maybe that was just kids their age doing everything online and not having mail to forward.) 

Rusty's situation was about the same as mine - part-time job we had to dig up, health insurance through Monica's parents, basically the same sort of deductions for rent.  She absolutely could not believe that all of this information got sent to the government, then back to us, and then that we had to check their math and send it back or else they'd just keep the extra money that had been deducted or gave penalties.  This is, to be fair, the correct reaction.

Katey's situation was a bit trickier - she was on her parents' health care but Kutter had picked up the company's when she started her job, and Katey, having apparently been dead-set against asking her parents for help, had worked a lot more during college, including for a place that had gone out of business, and either despite that or because it was a lot to keep track of, some of her records were sketchy (if there's any one thing that makes us remember that we are still ourselves deep down, it's that Katey was not nearly as detail-oriented as Kutter).  Tracking some things down took effort, and after the way Kutter's Christmas visit went, Katey's parents were less eager to help than Emilia's and Monica's. 

There was also the matter of what to do with the money that had been anonymously deposited in or bank accounts for the first few months, which amounted to just enough for each of us that it had to be included.  All told, we each wound up receiving refunds, although not really enough for any of us to splurge on anything.  Or, more likely, the next group, since the odds that these would be processed and deposited before we returned to the Inn was slim even before the cuts at the IRS.

Rusty did some math and figured the time spent on it was not exactly a great hourly wage, and asked what would happen if we hadn't bothered and just let the federal and state governments keep the excess.  Probably nothing, I said, but there might have been trouble if the deductions had been a hundred dollars off on the other direction, and it wouldn't be fair to let the next people living these lives catch that. 

This process all got started because the woman living my life sent me a message asking if I had anything other than my main W-2 to worry about.  She works in finance in her real life, and was at a big New York firm one upon a time, so my family's taxes was basically nothing difficult for her.  But, on the flip side, I do appreciate her making sure it would be nothing difficult for me. 

- Aidan/Emilia