“You and your brothers used to break out of your rooms on hot summer nights and come for a swim. You’d also get hungry and raid the refrigerator at the Hub and pass out there. By the third time we found you missing from your beds, we knew where to check.”
“What about Ava?”
He shook his head. “She was the good one. The rest of you were little shits.”
I laughed at his description. “These two make the girls look like angels.”
Which they weren’t, but they were far easier to deal with than the twins. I never knew what they were going to get up to. My dad was right, and they were nice boys. Friendly and well-liked, they stuck up for other kids, did well in school, and never went so far across the line it gave me pause. But they were full of mischievousness.
They’d been ahead of the curve their entire lives. The largest percentile for height and weight, they were off the charts. They were born early, and they walked early, literally crawling one day and on their feet the next. They communicated with each other in their own language before suddenly asking for something in plain English far too soon in their childhood. They went from babies to toddlers almost overnight. Walking, running, escaping. Their cribs were useless at holding them. The big-boy beds we bought barely kept them contained. Childproof locks were a joke. Splitting them up was a no-go. They would simply march into each other’s room and crawl into the other’s bed at some point after we said good night. Eventually, we gave up, and to this day, they shared a room. Erin never wanted to move upstairs, so instead we switched things around and the boys shared the largest room on the second floor.
At four, they pulled off pranks that drove their sisters crazy. By five, they were whiz kids on computers. By seven, they could take one apart and put it back together. AJ loved to write programs, the language coming easily to him. Brock loved to dismantle and improve machines. The office I had built in the garage was now filled with computer parts and machines. Reid loved spending time with them, amazed at their brilliance. He taught and encouraged them. It was the only time I ever saw them sit still and be quiet.
I thought of some of the scrapes they’d gotten into.
Experimenting with their mother’s blender to make it “go faster.”
We spent hours scrubbing cupboards, ceilings, and floors. The blender had to be thrown out when it burst into flames.
Deciding to find out what happens when you let the propane build up under the lid and then light the barbecue.
We changed to gas and added locks to the controls. It took three days until the lid washed up on shore, bent and barely recognizable. I replaced the scorched siding on the Hub and made the boys help repaint the trim.
Deciding to camp out overnight without telling us.
I had panicked and called my dad when I discovered the boys gone and their window open. He arrived with Bentley, Maddox, and Ronan, ready to start searching.
Bentley looked worried. “We should call the police.”
Ronan looked out the window. “Maybe we should check over there.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw the wisp of smoke in the trees. We found the boys stuffing their faces with marshmallows and looking shocked at our distress. They were calm and cool when I asked how they got out of their bedroom.
“We shimmied down the drainpipe, Dad. We tested it earlier when we took our supplies out.”
I confiscated the pup tent and supplies, they were grounded, and I added sensors to the windows so they couldn’t sneak out again. The drainpipe was moved.
Yet, they seemed to find ways around it.
“The point is, they’re boys,” Dad said. “I agree with Paige. This is a phase. You grew out of it, so will they.”
He stood, still chuckling. “It’s kinda nice to see karma coming around.” He patted my shoulder. “I get to be PopPop and laugh. You get to be the heavy. Ah, life is good.” He walked away, glancing over his shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on them, Liam. They’re kids. Find middle ground. I always did with you, and you turned out pretty damn good.” He paused. “Maybe you need to turn them over to the master.”
I mulled over his words, letting the boys tire themselves out in the water. They climbed out and headed my way. I waited until they sat down, wrapped in towels, rubbing their hair, looking pleased with themselves.
“How did you get out? Nothing alerted me.”
AJ scoffed. “I bypassed that on Reid’s program. Really, it was too easy.”
Brock spoke up. “Too nice a night to stay in bed.” He high-fived AJ. “And we beat Reid. Awesome night.”
“Not so fast, young man,” I said, letting some anger bleed into my voice.
“C’mon, Dad. It was just a swim.”
“If something happened and you were alone, one or both of you could drown. How would you feel then? Think about your mother.”
“We’re advanced swimmers.”
“What if there was an intruder? Found you here alone? What if they kidnapped you?”
They both had the nerve to laugh. “Dad, PopPop has this place locked down tight. We’re perfectly safe here.”
They were right and I was grasping at straws and I knew it, but I had to make them understand.
“Let me be clear. When I lock up the house, you are not allowed out of it again until I unlock it the next day. Do you understand?” I held up my hand before they could protest. “You want to go for a late swim? You ask. You want to roast marshmallows and sleep on the beach? You get permission.” I paused. “Unless your behavior changes, all the computer stuff goes. Every bit of it. Nothing in your room, no workspace, nothing.”
They looked shocked. “Dad—”
“Nope. I’m not listening. Now, back to the house and in bed. You’re going somewhere in the morning with me.” I pointed my finger. “Now.”
I followed them, watching them walk ahead of me. I hated to pull the grounding thing and threatening the computer access, but that was the only way to get their attention.
And in the morning, I planned on getting backup to help.
The next morning, I frog-marched the boys over to Reid’s. He was on his deck, a cup of coffee at his elbow and a laptop open in front of him. To this day, he always had one close.
“Ah, the troublemakers,” he said with a smirk. “Your grandfather warned me I might see you this morning.”
“Your disciples bypassed something on your program and escaped again,” I said.
“Really?” he asked, incredulous. “What?”
AJ let out a string of words I didn’t understand, but they impressed Reid.
“Interesting. I didn’t think you could override that.”
“I figured it out,” AJ said smugly.
I pointed to the table. “Sit down.”
Reid grinned. “Am I inheriting them?”
“The only thing that interests them is computers. You keep teaching them, so this is the deal. You get them twice a week. Teach them. Show them whatever you do. In return, I get their word they won’t sneak out of the house, override my passwords, or anything else that I keep telling them to stop doing. No more changing their mother’s cell phone ringtones to horror movie screams, making the doorbell ring when no one is there, or having the lights come on at three a.m. And no more adding porn to my laptop so it starts playing when I open it. No more tech pranks.”