Prettyboy

2: The Hourglass Lake

I had a blue sedan back in '61, a neatly dressed wife on the passenger's seat, and two youngsters in the back of the car, constantly inquiring about the time, how long it was going to take us until we were there. Yet my hand was firm around the steering wheel and I didn't swivel the car once. My cowering in my seat went by unnoticed as the elder Way son was jibing at his brother, who had began to raise his voice to denote his depleting patience. 

"How long till we're there?" Gerard asked and let out an exasperated sigh, sprawling to relax his muscles.

"You know, I'm not the only one in this car. Why don't you ask our noble driver, Gerard?" Lana smiled at me lopsidedly. Her hand reached out for my cheek and I leaned into her affectionate touch while still keeping my eyes on the road.

"I didn't exactly ask you, Mother, but I guess," I saw a reserved look in Gerard's eyes, "how long till we're there, sir?" 

My smile was one of amusement, as I stared at his face through the rear view. "You don't have to call me 'sir' anymore, you know, Gerard. You can just call me Frank."

Lana beside me laughed heartily—and how heartwarming her laugh used to be back then. "Or how about you start calling him Dad?" she proposed and I hadn't been able to catch the kid's facial expression, but from his scoff, I could tell he was not very pleased with the idea. He didn't look angry when I caught a glimpse of him again. 

He leaned into my driver's chair and rested his head on my shoulder, actually startling me for a second. I was quite surprised by his sudden change of heart; the way he tapped a rhythm on my shoulders, chewed chewing gum loudly right next to my ears, whereas lately, he had often waved me off. Mostly. Come to think of it, perhaps Lana's idea of the trip was an effective plan she had put on.

"Am I annoying you yet?" he laughed softly.

I shook my head, thinking I knew how to play teenagers' games, letting him know, "Nope."

"Don't take it wrong, Frank, he's got nothing against you," Michael elucidated in case I hadn't understood it myself, "he just wants to drive. He does this all the time."

"Which reminds me, rule number one in this house," Lana cocked her head to glance at me, then said, feigning stern, "we do not let Gerard come near the steering wheel. Perhaps once he is of age and none of our problem, Frankie, but until then, Gerard is grounded."

The elder son sat back and sighed wistfully. "I am going to die in this car, I swear. In this car with a freedom rider, a mop-top and his old lady." He struck me as very dramatic, but all I could think back then was possible ways of me bonding with Lana's sons, so, I considered what we could bond over. So far, I had only been able to come up with cars and drama as something that might be of any interest to him; but when you looked at Gerard, he didn't really seem the type.

"How long till we're there, Frank?" he demanded to know one more time.

"Roughly twenty minutes, Gerard."

From the corners of my eyes, I strained so I could look at Lana's pleased smile, her batting her long lashes at me. "So. Ever been to Squam Lake, Frank?" even though she knew the answer, she asked. She'd asked me when she'd thought of this little road trip, too, a while back, but I suppose she wanted to promote me to her kids as a nice person.

"No, but I've been to many lakes before, elsewhere."

Gerard straightened up in his seat. "Ever been to New Hampshire? The people in the countryside are nutsy. Away with the fairies." He whistled through the teeth and gestured a loosening screw with his index when his mother glanced at him, reprimanding.