Caffrey Aloha

Chapter 12

Tuesday morning. January 4, 2005.

When Peter got the text that Neal was up and about Tuesday morning, he and El stopped by the suite to check on him. Neal was seated in the suite's living room with his grandparents, watching TV. They'd found one of Irene's old movies, and she was telling stories about playing practical jokes on the other actors in the film. Neal's smile was particularly loopy.

Henry had opened the door and as they entered Peter asked in an undertone, "How is he?"

"Veeerrry happy," Henry said. "We had Disney's Fantasia on the TV earlier. He started humming the song from 'The Sorcerer's Apprentice' and wouldn't stop. Said he couldn't find the end. Oh, and apparently he's addicted to banana smoothies."

"We can bring him a pineapple one later for variety," El suggested. "And I saw something on the room service kid's menu called a coconut fizz. That's probably easy on the throat."

"Good idea." Henry followed them inside.

"Peter!" Neal's voice was enthusiastic, if hoarse. "It's my favorite movie."

Peter sat down next to El. "Yeah? How long has this been your favorite?"

Neal closed his eyes and scrunched his face in deep thought. "Nineteen years." He opened his eyes. "Yep. Nineteen."

"What happened nineteen years ago?" El asked.

"Flu. Bored. Wouldn't stay in my room. Mom put this movie in the VCR. I played it over and over."

It was a family-friendly movie called The Playboy and the Bobby-Soxer, one where Irene had played a teenager with a crush on her older sister's love interest. "You must have really liked it," El said.

"Mm-hmm. Mom asked why I kept replaying it. Said I liked her voice." He nodded toward Irene. "Comforting." He sank more deeply into the sofa cushions. "Mom said..." He looked at Irene. "Called you my babysitter."

"Truer words," said his grandmother.

Neal reached for his smoothie, and grumbled when he saw it was nearly empty.

Irene smiled fondly. "Ah now, there's my Baby Bear. We'll get you another one in a bit. Have some water. We want to keep you hydrated."

The grumbling growl lessened slightly, and finally ended as he drank the water. But his frown indicated he did not think water was an acceptable substitute.

"Angela and Rosalind and Viola are stopping by later," Henry said. "They said they'd bring lunch from one of the restaurants nearby, to give us a break from room service. It's going to be like dinner theater. Angela's teaching them lines from some of Dressa's old movies to act out scenes with her."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," El said.

"I've heard you're an actress yourself now," Irene mentioned. "I hope you'll join us."

"It's only community theater," El demurred.

"How do you think I started out? Please say you'll take part. Everyone else is."

"Everyone?" asked Henry.

"Well, you can't expect Edmund to be the leading man all the time. He needs support. You'll be very dashing once we get you in costume."

Costumes? "I should really stop by the Bureau soon and catch up on the case," Peter said before anyone tried to volunteer him.

"You won't stay and play Agent Baker?" Irene asked, referring to a classic character supposedly inspired by Sherlock Holmes. He always wore suits in the movies. That wouldn't be too bad.