Chapter Three

They say time flies when you're having fun, but I've found it also flies when you're working your butt off.

Before I knew it, my son was starting school, and my daughter was learning to walk and talk! Not that I was doing much of the teaching. With my work hours, that was left to Holly.

I had been spending a lot time at the library lately, as well, soaking up every recipe book in the place. I was determined to continue impressing my boss until I was given the recognition--and the position--I deserved. Though I had been doing very well, and had even saved enough to expand our home even more, I wasn't ready to stop advancing yet.

The late hours at the bistro and the extra time at the library were affecting more than just my neglected garden, it seemed. The night I was promoted to Chef de Cuisine--just one step away from my ultimate goal--I burst through our door, ready to celebrate with my wife.

"Holly!" I called, excited to tell her the news.
"Almond, I'm glad you're home. I need to talk to you about Amaretto."
Uh oh, she'd used his full name. She hardly ever did that unless he was in trouble. Most of the time, he was just "Rett."

Quickly putting my excitement over my promotion aside, my tone became serious. "What's going on?"
"His teacher had me come in for a conference today. It seems our son has been 'forgetting' to do his homework several nights a week. She also said he barely plays with any of the other kids, and spends all recess sitting by himself at the top of the jungle gym. I think you need to have one of those 'father-son' chats."

I nodded. "Okay, Sweetheart. I'll take care of this. No need to worry."

I started towards Rett's room, but Holly hissed to me, "Not tonight, Almond! He's already asleep."
Of course he was. Both Rett and Sage were almost always asleep by the time I got home.

I peered in anyway, just to be sure, but he was out like a light.
"All right," I said, closing his door softly. "I'll talk to him first thing in the morning."

I had to get up earlier than usual in order to be able to talk to Rett before he left for school, so I just asked Holly to wake me when she got up. Rett trudged out of his room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Then he saw that I was awake, and his face lit up with surprise and happiness. "Dad! I didn't think you'd be awake." He rushed over to give me a hug. I smiled at him for a moment, and then it was time to get down to business.

"What's this I hear about you not doing your homework, young man?"
Rett's eyes dropped as he hung his head. "I don't know," he said quietly.
"You don't know? Either you've been doing your homework, or you haven't. Your teacher says you haven't." I got down on one knee so I could look him in the eye. "Is it too hard for you, Son? Because your Mom and I can help, if you just ask."

He sighed, exasperated, and pulled his homework out of his backpack to show me some of the problems. "It's not too hard, Dad. It's boring! I could do it in my sleep. And every time I start working on it, it puts me to sleep!"

Well, I had to admit, that was an easier problem to solve than the other way around. After my conversation with Rett, Holly and I informed his teacher of the problem, and she agreed to start giving him advanced work, to keep him interested. In addition, Holly would sit with him every night while he did his homework, making sure he completed it and checking his answers. She showed me some of his essays, and we were both impressed with our whiz kid. The school's testing placed him just below genius level.

The schoolwork problem, while fairly easily solved, wasn't the only problem. There was the issue of Rett's anti-social behavior, as well. We noticed it even at home. He would rather play with his doll house than talk to us or play with his sister. He made up elaborate stories involving the little dolls, and seemed to be in another world while doing so.

Once, he came home from school to find Sage playing with his dolls, and was furious. He yanked them out of her hands and put them high on a shelf, out of her reach, then called for his mom to get his sister out of his room.

"Really, Rett, she wasn't hurting anything," Holly admonished him. "You need to share your things. She's your little sister! She just wants to do what you do."

"She almost bit Ron's head off!" Rett exclaimed. "Poor little Georgia and Carter would have been left without a father! I bet you'd feel pretty guilty then, Mom."

Holly took his dollhouse away for the rest of the week, and we almost thought he'd go crazy without it.

"He needs some real friends, Almond," Holly said as we discussed the issue in bed one evening. "He's living in that fantasy world of his, and barely comes up for air."

I agreed we needed to intervene somehow, but I wasn't sure what to do about it. How do you force your child to befriend someone?

"I guess all we can do is ask him to invite someone over, and hope they click."

Holly said she'd suggest it the next day, so we turned out the light and tried to get some sleep. I lay awake for a long while, though, worrying about my eldest. I guess living in a fantasy world isn't completely a bad thing, unless your real life begins to suffer for it, and it seemed like that was happening with Rett. I just hoped it was some kind of phase, and it would pass soon.