Bassy's Future and some Noah stuff

Bassy is going to film school in Bridgeport. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
I saw him open up the acceptance letter like a kid opening up a present on Christmas morning, and he ran through the house screaming.
I have a feeling, though, that he's gonna be a damn fine actor.
I'm not entirely sure what prompted him to pursue this path, but he seems dead set on it. Thing about us Plumbs is, when we set our minds to do something, it's hard to get any of us to steer away from it. And, more often than not, if we do something we tend to become good at it.

I'm not sure how much sense it makes that he's going to become an actor. He didn't give any indication that this was the path he was going to pursue, other than his role in the school play as Romeo in Romeo and Juliet.
There's some other stuff, too, concerning my dear youngest brother. Remember the photographer I hired to take pics of the family? I still believe, despite Bassy's protestations to the contrary, that he did sleep with her. Now I'm hearing rumors that could back up my suspicions. Ms. Ward is now telling people that she's pregnant -- and that Bassy is the father. C'mon, Bassy isn't ready to be a dad. Seriously. Bassy's barely ready to be an adult. Kid still has his patterned underoos.
So, I've asked Ms. Ward to take a DNA test. I need proof. When you're as famous a family as we are, any gold digger will come out of the woodwork and say she's carrying our seed.
On that front, I've discovered there are 25 original musical compositions at City Hall registered under the name of Noah Henry Plumb, who, by the way, is the current conductor of the Sunset Valley Orchestra. They're not remixes of Dad's songs, they're Noah's original ones. I haven't heard these songs, but I've heard his style described as a mix of classical and electronica. Whatever that means. I'm also told that there are even more compositions he hasn't officially published. Sounds a lot like Dad, who only officially published a fraction of the songs he actually wrote. Dad's written about 300 songs and City Hall only has records of about 50 of them.

Oh and guess who registered Noah's songs? In typical Plumb fashion, not Noah. The copyright papers were signed by my sister-in-law, Sadie Alvi Plumb.

Wedding of the Year, Part 2

Cheesie seems to have really taken to Satis. Right after the wedding she was the first person he talked to.

Meanwhile, I took out my guitar for the first time since the last major wedding in our family and entertained guests with my rendition of my dad’s special wedding composition. I’d played it once before, at Noah’s wedding, and we know what happened there.

Midway through the song, I noticed Neil going through one of his patented freak-outs. My mother just kind of stared at him, but HIS mother had her back turned. Good thing Bassy was there, he took Neil into the bathroom and calmed him down. Poor Neil, I feel sorry for him sometimes.

When I finished the song everyone had gone to eat the feast Halima prepared -- except for one person.

“Savannah Rachel,” my mother began in a hushed, halting voice, tears streaming down her face. “My Savannah Rachel – I never believed this day would come.”

“What day?”

“The day you’d wed. At one point I thought you’d never marry.”

“What made you think that?”

“Seriously, Savannah, you weren’t exactly rushing to the altar.”

“Neither did you. It took forever for you and Dad to tie the knot.”

“Well that was because of him, not me. The moment you were born I wanted to marry him but I was willing to wait until he was ready to commit.”

“To be frank, I’m not sure I would have waited as long as you did.”

Mom managed a chuckle. “Okay, Savannah, you got me there.”

She decided to change the subject. “You know, Savannah, that’s an – interesting – choice of attire for a wedding.”

“We are not going to go through this right now, not on my wedding night and CERTAINLY not in front of my daughter.” When I said that, I’d just realized Satis was standing right beside me. And it felt damn good referring to her as “my daughter.”

““If I’m not mistaken, it’s MY wedding, and I have the prerogative to do as I please, and that includes my clothing.”

“Don’t you think you’ve taken this Egypt obsession a little too far, Savannah?” she asked me. “Most people go on foreign trips, they come back with memories of that trip and that’s pretty much it. Not you – nooooo. You wrote a book about it, your room at home is full of Egyptian decor, you chose Egyptian music for this wedding, you even adopted two Egyptian kids and hired an Egyptian nanny.”

“Mother, I can take grief about my own personal choices, but you can be damn sure that I am not going to allow you to disparage my daughter’s homeland in front of her!” I told Satis to join her brother at the reception but she wouldn’t leave my side.

I took a deep breath. “You have to understand, mother, that the moment my feet touched the ground there I became a completely different person. That trip changed my entire life, in so many ways. You know if it were up to me I’d actually still be living there.”

My mother, try as she may, is not going to change who I am. She didn’t succeed when I was growing up and she is not going to now. “That’s what inspired me to write “Interview with a Mummy.” I was so overcome by the mystery and intrigue of the land. I spent four days alone in an Egyptian pyramid. When you spend four days alone anywhere, you do a lot of thinking.”

“You know, Savannah, I re-read the book with a different frame of mind, and I actually did like it. There were just certain passages in it that, well, hit a little too close to home for me. I figured out right away that you were writing something like an autobiography. Like your description of Saundra Burroughs as a washed-up actress who struggled to understand her daughter. There were a couple of occasions where I wanted to kill Saundra for not seeing things that were so obvious. Savannah, I have to admit – I struggled with you too. There are times when I look at you and it’s like looking in a mirror, because you’re just like me. Savannah, you ARE me, except blond, and prettier, and stronger, and smarter, and that’s what scares me.”

“You wanted to be blond?”

“Growing up, more than anything. My mother was blond and she hated me because I wasn’t. I pretty much look exactly like my father. She spent the whole time making me feel very, very small, like I was less than anyone. So I was determined to prove to her that I could succeed despite not being blond. My mother would have LOVED you.”

“After you grew up, if you wanted to be blond so badly, why didn’t you just dye your hair?”

Mom shook her head. “I wanted to get as far away from my mother’s influence as I could. So I kept myself as a brunette. Then I met your father --”

After mom left to join the reception, I thought about just how truly sad the whole story sounded. Hating your kid just because they have the wrong hair color. It’s a pity that my mother seemed never to be truly happy, despite her success, until she finally convinced my father to marry her.

Just then Satis came to chat about the wedding. “I’m happy you got married, mommy.”

Just hearing that word “mommy” out of her mouth made me realize just how much about my life was different now. I glanced over at Satis, so fragile and malleable at her age, and even though she is not biologically my daughter, the moment I met her I felt an unshakable bond towards her and a desire to protect her from everyone and everything. I hope in my heart of hearts not to make the mistakes that 2 generations of Bellingham women have made with their children.

Dad's autobiography

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So my dad's autobiography is out, kind of. I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it. The fact that it's out scares me, as much as the fact that he's writing it.
There are some things in it I didn't know, for sure. It surprised me that he actually watched grandpa die. That had to have a big impact on him. Also about grandma, it sounds to me like grandma wanted him to be a doctor or something like she was.
I also didn't know about Noah's childhood and teenage years. I didn't realize he'd misbehaved. Dad didn't talk about Noah's youth much. I guess this was why.

Time marches on

The dust was settling on the fact that Noah was now an elder.

Combine that with Ari's revelation that two of my classmates from school, Darrel and Windy, have settled down with significant others, and I got to thinking.

Here I was, halfway through YA, and I'd never even had a boyfriend. I've never even been kissed.

It's no wonder, then, that the next morning I woke up absolutely sick to my stomach and puking out my guts. I think it was realizing that my parents were not long for this life, that very soon both will be going on to the afterlife. And I would be left here, with my brother and nephew.
I think it was also realizing that while I'm waiting for this adoption to go through, my own biological clock is tick, ticking away. And while I have plenty of male acquaintances, friends even, especially abroad, I don't have a 'special friend,' that one person I could share my life with.
Some of this, though, is my own fault. I realize mom was right when she said I was as stubborn as a mule. I know I am stubborn, I like having things my way. I've always been like this. I also think part of this is perfectionism. I don't want to completely commit myself unless it's with the right person. You understand.

I have the example of my parents, who despite everything have managed to grow old together and still be madly in love. Heck I heard them upstairs woohooing just the other night. Noah and Sadie, despited their difficulties with Neil, have also managed to grow old together.

I know that someday I'll be old, and I want to have someone to grow old right beside me.

Surprise!

My dad threw a surprise birthday party for somebody. I went to my favorite boutique and decided on this little number.

When I told Neil he had to wear a suit, he complied -- reluctantly -- although he had to get a suit out of my dad's closet as he didn't have one.

I still don't understand who keeps inviting Cheesemouth to these shindigs, but I could feel his eyes boring into me. "Savannah," he called to anyone who would listen.

Finally it was time for the honoree to blow out his candles. You see, Dad threw a surprise party -- for Noah. He turned elder.
It's a measure of how crazy my family is that I have two half-brothers who are elders and my one full brother is still a teen.

Yep, that's Noah. The only way I can tell him and Dad apart now is, well, by a nose. His nose, I mean.

Me and Noah

Noah was walking up the hallway while I was in the kitchen. This is all the time with us, we’re always on the defensive with each other in a constant war of attrition. "Are you happy now?” he began. “You've successfully torn apart this family."

I decided I had enough. "You, Noah, lecturing me about family values. Boy, that's rich. Because, as far as I've gathered, Neil has never really had a 'family.'"
"And just what do you mean by that?"
"Can't you see how badly neglected he is? And the reason why he's acting out the way he is? You and Sadie are too damn busy to take any notice of that kid."
"You've got some nerve, Savannah. Look at you, gallivanting all over the world. Some fine example you're providing for your kids -- should you have any."
"Noah, I'm not going there."
"That's right, run away from the truth the way you've always done."
"No, I'm not running away from anything. I just don't want to deal with all this bickering, it's the last thing Neil needs to see right now."
"What do you care about what Neil needs?"

"Obviously a whole hell of a lot more than you do. I mean, he's happier here and it's beginning to show, so I don't want to hear it. Do you know he has not broken curfew once since he's been here? Not once. Not only that, but he goes to school, he comes home, he does his homework, and Bassy's just thrilled to bits that he's here. All the poor kid wants is for someone to show him that they give a damn.”

Noah rose his arms up in the air. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again "You know, you're right, Vanna, I -- I just want to thank you for taking him in like this. I -- I realize now that Sadie and I weren't really -- you know, cut out -- for this."

"Cut out for what?"

"Being -- being parents. And it's reflected on Neil. We've never -- never really -- been there for him, you know?"

"No need to thank me. It's Bassy you need to thank. And dad. They're the ones you need to talk to."

Housewarming Party

Mom and Dad not only decided to have an impromptu concert in the living room, but they also decided to have a housewarming party.

Bridgette Landgraab showed up, and I don't think her name was on the guest list.

Unfortunately, so did my brother. I tried to make conversation with him at the dinner table, so I asked him how he liked the new house.

His response? "Hey, this music is jammin'!" I shook my head. Noah is unbelievable sometimes. And he wonders why his kid is screwed? Sheesh.

His Grimness showed up at the party to claim one of mom's friends. Mom, of course, was devastated.

He even stopped and admired the fishies in our aquarium. Most of them I caught myself in the ponds and beaches around Sunset Valley.

All About Neil

Don't think that I've abandoned you guys, but we've been pretty busy around here. For starters, Neil moved in.

Neil Patric Miraj Plumb, of course, is my nephew, the son of my brother Noah and his wife, Sadie. His mother is of Pakistani origin, and I probably know more about her heritage than she does. Her grandfather, Iqbal Alvi, immigrated from Pakistan after the Great War. What I found interesting was that he came from Pakistan just before my grandfather, Nigel Plumb, left England and arrived in Sunset Valley. What I also found interesting, from looking at the archives in the library, is that Iqbal Alvi and Nigel Plumb were neighbors on the other side of town, even though they never met!

I wasn't quite sure how Neil would take living with us Anglo-Saxon bluebloods, given his mixed heritage. He has the Pakistani blood on his mother's side, and on his father's side there's Italian, French, English, Irish, Welsh, and no telling what else. He's a true mutt.

Anyway, before I went into this digression, we've discovered that Neil is an odd fellow. Really, he is. He opted to run all the way to the military quarters on the other side of town instead of taking one of the four vehicles on the property. Why? He wanted to take handiness classes there. Apparently he's an adept with tools. Dad said Noah was like that, too, and he wondered where they got it from because it certainly did not come from him, lol.

We also think Neil has his mom's OCD trait because he checks the stoves about four times a day, he makes all the beds at least twice, he brushes his teeth until they bleed, and he scrubs the dishes at least twice even though the maid comes in and puts them in the dishwasher.

I overheard Neil and Bassy going over algebra very late at night -- and of course, given that they're teenage boys, they go over a lot of, well, other, things too. "Hey, how you like the house?" I heard Bassy ask.

"It's all right, I guess," Neil heaved a sigh. "Why can't I figure this stuff out?"

Intervention

Last evening, I came face to face with my wild, out of control teenage nephew, who, by the way, is even worse off than Noah let on.

Neil had changed into his workout clothes. "I'm going to exercise," he told me.

"No," I told him, "you are going to stand right here and listen to me until I tell you to move. Do you understand?"

He smacked his lips and protested as much as he could, but in the end he did what I said.

"Neil, I got a look at your report card. You're failing! I guess you are failing, if you don't even go to school."

"What are you talking about?"

"Neil, you know DAMNED well what I'm talking about! How are you gonna pass your classes if you blow 'em off?"

"Bassy told ya, didn't he? I knew it!"

"Bassy didn't HAVE to tell me. You forget, I went to that school. You forget, I still have contacts over there. So both you and Bassy can try to lie to me, but you won't get away with it."

"Who you think you are? You ain't my mama."

"You're right, Neil. I'm not your mother. But you can be DAMNED sure I'm not going to let you slide into the depths."

Neil is so bad off that my dad (who, by the way, is worried sick about him) is considering desperate, desperate action. He's considering taking temporary custody of him and straightening him out while he has him. I'm not sure dad is thinking clearly, and I'm not sure he's the one to straighten Neil out. He needs a strict military-style boot camp type thing.

So I put his ass thru a mini boot camp of my own. Since he was getting ready to work out anyway, I worked his ass out till he dropped.

A Cry for Help

"Vanna, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Bassy knocked on my bedroom door. I was working on my latest travel notes when he came in. "It -- it's about Neil."

Neil, of course, is Noah's son -- and our nephew. In Bassy's case, Neil is actually four simdays OLDER than he is.

"Vanna, I'm worried about Neil."

This came as a bit of a mild surprise.

"You know when you guys were in Egypt I was staying at his place next door. Anyway, Neil was drinking, playing video games and skipping school to do both."

"He's drinking?"

"I'd say he's an alcoholic. "

Just as Bassy said that, dad came in. "Did you mention Neil?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, dad, we were just talking about him."

"Come here, kids, I've got an idea." Apparently dad had been watching this situation for some time, and in his understated manner, was just waiting for the right time to act. "On Saturday morning, the three of us are going to go over there..."

Visiting Noah

I decided to pay a visit to Noah the next morning, which was a Saturday. It was the same day Bassy and dad had gone over to the stadium for a soccer game.

"Neil, did you take out the trash?"
"No, why?"
"Didn't I tell you to take out the trash?"
"I told you I wasn't doing it, mom. Besides, isn't that the maid's job?"

"Neil, it's time for you to start pulling your weight around here. You don't go to school. All you do is lay around playing video games. I'm sick of it."
"Well it's what I want to do."
"It's got to stop, Neil!"

"This is all the time," Noah bitterly complained.

I had never seen him like this. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"He -- he's totally out of control. I'm worried sick about him."

"What's going on?"

"Well, besides the arguments?" He managed a chuckle. "He's skipping school to stay home and play video games. He's drinking. He's a whiny little spoiled brat. I have no idea how it got this bad."

"What are you going to do?"

"Savannah -- he needs a reality check, and you're probably the only person who can give it to him. Maybe -- maybe -- if you could take him to Egypt or something -- he'll see that not everyone lives like he does."

I laughed. "Noah, he wouldn't last one day in Egypt. You know it, I know it, and he knows it."

"Just think about it, Savannah."

Mom and dad go to Egypt!

So, I'm checkin' my email and Vanna's blog post, and I find out that she's filled out papers to try to adopt these 2 Egyptian kids.

Personally, I think she's crazy.

Not that the kids aren't cute, from the pix she posted they're adorable... but I'm not sure about this.

Apparently mom has found out about Vanna's plan, too. Of course she's found out. It was in the paper! If mom wasn't already teed off at Vanna, if they hadn't already had this big blowup over her book, then this latest thing has really set her off. So much so, that she and dad booked a flight and headed to Egypt themselves! Since I still have school, I plan to stay at Noah and Neil's while they're gone. I can't see myself in this house by myself.
I'd only been to Noah's place once before, when I was still little and Neil's parents were getting married.