Take a Leap
“Dude, want
to go to concert next Friday?” Larry Lynch asked his roommate and childhood
best friend.
Bobby Belden, who at almost 24
preferred the name Rob, looked up from his computer and replied, “Next Friday?
Dude, that’s my birthday!” His honest-to-goodness birthday that only rolled
around every 4 years.
“That’s right,” Larry grinned,
“You’re going to be six!” He laughed as Rob threw a pillow at him. “Didn’t you
have enough of being 6 already?”
“Shut up!” Ron groaned. The year he
was 6 was a busy year. That was the summer the Bob-Whites were formed. The year
his sister discovered her penchant for mysteries. The year he got bit by a
copperhead. The weeks leading up to his pseudo-birthday had been filled with an
antique show, thieves, his sister having her life threatened once again, a
blizzard and he’d had pneumonia. Shortly after that had been the arrival of Dan
Mangan and that whole “kitty” thing – he’d never live that down – and then the
ice show. No one even remembered to
celebrate his birthday – probably because they weren’t sure if they should
celebrate it on February 28th or March 1st. It was the
first year that he was really aware that his birthday didn’t really exist on
the calendar. So he kept acting like he was six.
Of course his parents knew he was
seven and so did his siblings, but he’d be rich if he had a dime for every time
his sister or brothers or one of their friends had said he was six when he was
really seven. And it wasn’t until the next year, which was a leap year, that
they all finally figured out that they had skipped right over his birthday the
year before. His parents had felt awful, as did Trixie, Mart and Brian. He had
milked that for quite some time. Being the baby of the family – with a larger
age gap than the older three AND being born on Leap Day – had some perks
occasionally.
“Dude, some college girls really go
for younger men, and when they find out you’re actually only 6…”
“Ha, ha. Very funny Lawrence,” Rob
replied and threw another pillow at his roommate. “Who’s playing?”
“Some kinda’ new group –
OneRepublic. My dad is one of the investors or backers or something.” Larry
cared nothing about business or anything that his dad did – just as long as he
ad money to pay his bills he was happy.
“Oh – comped tickets? And here I
thought you’d actually gotten me a gift,” Rob jeered.
“Dude, your hair is too short for me
to spend any money on you. Of course they’re comped – it’s at the Roseland
Ballroom. Wanna’ go?”
“Nothing better to do. Fam is having
a party on Sunday when everyone can be there. They swear they’re not forgetting
the actual day. But you need to at least
get me cake.”
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