John Baptiste. [powered_otaku]

[sweetsalome]

        It's one of those perfect summer days, one that isn't too hot, too humid. Right after a hard, cold rain, that cools everything down and leaves just enough moisture in the reserves for when the sun shines high over head. Salome's Grandparent's house sits on three acres of land, enough for a great back and front yard, but not enough to be considered country. Far back away from the road, it rests on top of a slight incline, that is just right for sledding when the snow falls in the winter. Two stories tall, it's painted white with blue shutters, that get repainted every two years, a task that her grandfather complains about, but always does proudly. There is a front porch and a back porch, maybe some years ago they were connected, but it seems someone had gotten rid of it years before.

On the back porch there is a swing, it's chain rusted and when it rocks back and forth it squeaks. Not an annoying squeak, but steady and simple, it's sound changing with the back and forth movements. It's one of the things on grandpa's to do list, but never seems to get done. There are four old apple trees a few feet away from the back porch, in the spring their leaves turn dark and about mid-summer the married couple talk at great length over what is the perfect time to pick the fruit. In the end, their largest issue is what to do with the apples they don't eat, turn into preserves, or bake into pies. The setting is idyllic, and for the most part, so is life in the Snyder house.

But like most things the exterior does not match the interior.  The Snyder's have an almost rabid hatred for anything to do with Liam Collins, and who can blame them?  The man took away their daughter, and through lengthy court custody battles, have left them with very little money to survive.  Despite the fact that they can't get a third year law student to look at their case, they still hold out hope that they will one day have their daughter back.  It's painfully obvious, and a weakness that is easily exploited.

       This morning, Salome and Jonba sit on the back porch with finger paints and large sheets of paper.  An old book with pictures of paintings sits propped up on the railing.  Salome is trying to convince the boy to make a painting like the vase of flowers in the book.  The boy needless to say is having none of it.  He is much happier smacking his multi-colored hands down on the paper, or just rubbing his chubby fingers around in circles in globs of paint.  Painting is just not a talent that the Collins possess, clearly.  It doesn't seem to matter, the boy is laughing and having a great time of it.

Comments

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"That's right, you can't get anywhere in life without a college degree." Frank nods in agreement before going back to eating. Salome doesn't say a word, just pulls Jonba from his seat and sits him on her lap. Pressing her lips to the top of his head, she grins. "Hiro, smell the boy!" He smells like pancakes for some weird reason, despite the hose and the sun.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro smells the top of his head and looks puzzled. "Why does he smell like pancakes?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Salome shrugs and Jonba claps his hands wildly. "Pannnncakkkesss." Like area 51, and the Bermuda triangle, there are some things that cannot be explained. "Maybe it's baby cologne," Salome suggests with a giggle.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"What happens if we pour maple syrup on him?" Hiro has a silly grin on his face. "Do you like pancakes, Jonba?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Oddly enough, he smells like Dove soap." Jonba starts to laugh and then holds his arms out to Hiro to be picked up. "Mmm Jonba eat pancakes!"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro picks him up and sets him on his lap. "I like pancakes, too, but I like waffles best. Do you want a potato?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"'awffles! 'awffles!" Nodding quickly he opened his mouth and waited for the Potato. It's hard for Jonba to refuse food.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro smashes one of the potatoes with his food and gives it to him. "Is that not good? Obaasan makes excellent pot roast."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Jonba gets most of it in his mouth the rest he gets with his fingers. Eating is a bit of a messy, full contact sport for him. Swallowing he grins, "Obaasan!" Then he thinks for a minute, not sure what that is. "Obaasan?"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro points at Gretchen. "Obaasan." He points towards Frank. "Ojiisan."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Oh, Jonba sees this as a new game and so he starts nodding and repeating what Hiro says. He's learning what each word means. "Ojiisan. Ganpa!"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Yes. And Obaasan. Grandpa and grandma."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

He pointed to Hiro, "Wut He-woo?" He wanted to know what Hiro's special name was. Then he pointed to Salome, "'ome?"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

He points to himself. "Oniisan." He points to Salome. "Oneesan." He's not certain if her grandparents know everything, so better to teach them as older siblings.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Oniisan!" He reaches up and gives Hiro a big hug, putting his head on Hiro's shoulder. Salome reached over and rubbed Jonba's back before kissing Hiro's forehead. "We're going to clean up, take care of the boy."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"And you are ototochan." He bounces Jonba on his knee as he finishes off his meal. He smashes the last potato. "You want a potato?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Ototototot!" He wiggles his hip, dancing on Hiro's lap before turning and opening his mouth for the potato.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Ototochan." Hiro feeds him the last potato and bows a bit to Gretchen. "That was excellent! I have never had a better pot roast."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Otototo . . . Chan! Ototochan." He sings before wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. Gretchen looks up from the sink and smiled gently at the two of them. "Thank you, Hiro, I am really glad you liked it. Take some home with you!"

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Thank you!" Now he has dinner for tomorrow. Hiro cleans off Jonba's face and hands with his napkin. "Does he get a cookie? He ate his vegetables."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Gretchen has to chuckle at that, it's like there are two boys at the table instead of one. She smiles and nods, before wiping her hands off. "Yes he does. There are cookies, or both of you can have some Apple brow Bettie. Just a little bit for Ototochan though."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"Apple brown Bettie? I like apples. Do you want apple brown Bettie or a cookie, ototochan?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Bettie!" He grins up at Hiro, now very much wanting to be like the older man. Grandma comes to the table with a plate, a big piece of Bettie for Hiro, and a smaller one for Jonba. "So you don't have to share."

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

"That smells excellent." Hiro grabs his spoon and starts in on it. "Mmmm." He nods his approval.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Jonba leans forward and tries with the spoon, but can't seem to get the actual Bettie into his mouth. Finally he gives up and uses his fingers. "I am glad you like it."