Workin' Progress: City With No Children

Hannah knew a few things.  She knew was loving the barefoot style she was grooving lately.  She knew Kevin Douglas was a fucking animal.  He and Conny had been drinking and barbequing pretty much non-stop; whoever had the idea to get that going was onto something.  Hannah had never seen Kevin, or her uncle, like this when she was young, but those two were really were raging now.  Pretty much everyone was drifting in and out day and night between swimming or golf or sleeping or fucking or whatever else they got themselves up to; the endless party was a hit.  Hannah was not partaking herself, though she could have completely safely.  What she wanted, really, was to get her father there for a little human interaction.  Hell, Dylan, too.

Rachel and Melissa Berotti were there now, drinking pretty heavily it appeared.  Their parents were there.  Olivia Park.  Another thing Hannah knew was that if her mother caught her talking with Olivia Park about pregnancy again, her mother was liable to lose it.  Cynthia Kvale was out on the plaza.  Melissa Carpenter, too.  It was distinctly possible that Kevin was fucking her; they must have known each other in college.  Was it a renewal?  And was Conn fucking someone here?  It didn't matter.

Dillon was still sleeping when Hannah got up.  She put on what was essentially a shimmering slip dress.  Though it looked genuinely metallic, it was smooth and light and comfortable.  Because she was traveling, she slipped on some sandals.  And panties.  Very important when visiting your father.  After putting her hair up and taking a pee--shower?  bath?  who needs that?--she grabbed an extremely large mug of very cold orange juice and walked down into the courtyard where Kevin was sitting with his feet up, bottle in hand.

It was only after reaching ground level that Hannah realized how early it was.  The angle of the sun, the extremely low level of activity, the look on Kevin's face all told her that it was barely past sun up and not nearly as long into the morning as she had thought.

     -Oh, fuck me running, Hannah said, unloading herself onto the chair next to Kevin and slipping her sandals off.  What fucking time is it, dude?

The thing she loved about the material of the courtyard was that thought it looked like masonry or flagstones or something, it was actually ever so slightly yielding, though not enough so that anything she had seen thus far left a depression, and it was amazingly comfortable on her feet, warm when it was cool in the night and cool to the touch under the sun.  Fucking magic.  She kneaded her toes under the table.  Lovely.

     -No fucking clue, Kevin said, slightly slurring and propping himself up a bit higher in the chair.  Bout an hour, hour plus after dawn.  He put his bottle next to his chair.  Fuck, this thing is piss warm.  Where's fucking Con?

Hannah remembered Kevin Douglas when she was a kid.  He was so much shaggier now and seemed taller, probably because he was not nearly so beefy as he had been.  His beard had ungrayed and his hair was longer ever day.  His bulk was reduced to a visible gut and still-pretty-fucking-big arms.  He was a fucking fish.  Had it been his idea to rustle up the stuff to cook outside like that?  Fucking genius; it was the focal point for everyone now.  Hannah had even seen the Berotti kids there, though they weren't children by any means.  Still, fucking genius.  Even the people who didn't want to rage like Kevin and Connie could drift in and out and always have a place where they wouldn't have to be too alone in their heads. 

     -Fuckin' golf course now.  When'd that happen?  I was here pretty much every night and didn't notice that shit.  Fucked up.  Those things.  What'd Mick call 'em?

     -Rover.  Rovers.

     -Yeah.  Fucking comedian.  Fuckin' sneaky those things.

Cornelius rumbled onto the courtyard carrying a couple of pitchers in each hand.

     -Hannah!

     -Drinks?

     -Two screwdriver, two bloody mary, one peppery, one classic.  But wait one sec.

He looked over his shoulder and right on time Melissa Carpenter brought a giant coffee pot into the sunlight, followed closely by Cynthia Kvale carrying the plain juice in six glass carafes arranged on a tray.

     -That.  Apple, orange, grape, grapefruit, cranberry, and...orange again it looks like.  How the fuck did that happen?  Where's the plain tomato?  Shit.  Anyway.

     -Brilliant! Hannah said as she leaned toward the table and put her giant plastic mug on the translucent surface facing her.

George Donaldson, Sara Kenny, and Jean Quinn brought out three huge serving bowls and arranged them on one of the other tables.  This was a Cornelius special and must have been what Kevin was waiting for.  It was a huge fruit salad in one of the bowls.  Hannah could recognize his style.  Under the domed top of the second was oatmeal, and the third flatter bowl had toasted bread slices. 

Before Hannah could move, Kevin leaned over and asked her if she wanted anything.  He brought her back oatmeal in a bowl and fruit salad on a plate.  Con poured her some black coffee and refilled her juice.  Jean came over and complimented her on her shiny, soft dress.

     -I'm a shiny space beetle.  Don't fuck with me, Hannah told her.

It was getting a little louder as they came out.  Hannah figured some of them were early risers, like the Berottis and Olivia Park, but most of them were probably out here till nearly dawn and were attracted by the noise and the promise of food and coffee and possibly some of Con's screwdrivers and bloody marys.  Melissa and Rachel Berotti ran over and hugged Hannah when they spotted her, rubbing Hannah's shiny   beetle belly.  Kevin was double fisting bloody marys and wolfing down oatmeal and toast.  He had to be a fucking animal to keep that down, she thought.  Con came over and kissed her forehead and checking if she needed anything.  She remembered Con and Kevin as old men most recently; she'd been too young to understand what a waste product Con had been, but he and Kevin were turning this little assemblage into quite the party.  Considering what they were going through, they probably couldn't help fucking and drinking and whatever else as much as they could.  Hannah wasn't facing that because of her pregnancy.  This would be not the worst thing for Mick, though.  And Dylan.  Hannah would probably handle the fucking Tom part, but she wouldn't mind see him getting shitfaced with these idiots once in a while.

Hannah figured that maybe Kevin was getting it on with Melissa Carpenter; he had to have known her back at Illinois, and maybe he had hooked up with her back then, but Hannah was proven wrong when Cynthia Kvale plopped herself onto his lap with a not-so-sober giggle and licking kiss.  Melissa Carpenter was not visible to Hannah when she looked around.  Very sober, somewhat pregnant Hannah almost peed herself when Melissa Berotti walked up behind where Con was sitting across the table from Kevin and licked his face.  Well, well, well.  So much for the Berotti girls being sober and restrained.  Hannah spent nearly an hour there, enjoying the gathering, regretting being up at this hour, and chatting before she took her leave and left to cross over to her find her father.