This Old House

Part 3

 

(You Break Him, You Buy Him)

 

By: Kenda

                              

 

*Parts 1 and 2 of This Old House are posted in Kenda’s Emergency! Library.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A five-alarm fire wouldn’t have been able to wipe the smile from Chet Kelly’s face on this January morning.  He stood in the front doorway of his home, surveying the activity in the kitchen.  Chet strained on tip toes to see over the camera man, sound man, lighting tech, and director.  At any other time when Chet was anxious to be a part of the action he wouldn’t hesitate to yell, “Get outta my way, you jerks!  I can’t see!”   But not today.  No, most definitely not today.  Today, Chester Bartholomaus Kelly, was on his best behavior.   For today, Monday, January 28th, 1976, Chet was living out his dream.

 

I knew it was a good idea.  I knew it all along.  Even when Cap laughed at me.  And Marco gave me all the reasons why no doors in Hollywood would ever be opened to a fireman.  And when Roy pointed out how much money it cost to make a TV show. And Mike just walked away with that little smile on his face that said he thought I’d gone off the deep end.  And when Johnny just rolled his eyes as though I was the biggest twit he’d ever run across.   But I showed them.  I showed all of ‘em!  And now, because of me, we’re all gonna be TV stars.

 

Chet’s brother had a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of someone’s distant cousin, who was a TV producer.  Although that connection was precarious at best, Chet Kelly was nothing if not persistent.  Once he had Johnny’s permission to facilitate the production of a show called This Old House, Chet was off and running.

 

Okay, okay, so maybe I didn’t really have Johnny’s permission, Chet reminded himself now as he stepped out of the way so another sound man could enter the kitchen.  I guess Roy was kinda right when he told me Johnny wouldn’t remember what he said that night in the Recovery Room.  And I suppose I shoulda waited until Gage was outta the hospital and realized what I was doing before I started meeting with Clarice.  But heck, if I would have waited until Johnny felt better he would have never said yes.  Not that he really ever did say yes.  I guess I kinda tricked him into it when I told him I had everything set up and it was too late to back out.  And played that big old soft Gage heart like a violin when I told him I’d get all the materials for free that we needed to fix up the house as part of the TV deal. 

 

Chet thought back to the conversation he and Johnny had in the Station 51 kitchen shortly after Johnny returned to work in November.

 

“No, Chet.  No way!  There’s no way I’m gonna be a part of a dumb TV show about remodeling houses.”

 

“Johnny, come on, man!  I’ve already got the deal in the works.  All you gotta do is sign on the bottom line and give the camera that charming Gage grin.”

 

“No.  Absolutely not.  Look, Chet, I don’t mind helping you out.  And except for a couple. . . accidents, I’ve had a good time.  But there’s no way I’m gonna remodel your house on national TV.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Number one; no one except your mother will be watching the show.  And number two; it won’t be fun anymore.” 

 

“It won’t be fun anymore?  What’s that supposed to mean?  Of course it’ll be fun.  It’ll be a blast, Johnny!”

 

“No, it won’t be fun.  Not with God knows how many people hanging over my shoulder watching everything I do, telling me to turn this way and that way, telling me how to swing a hammer for the camera.  Hell, I’ve been swinging a hammer since I was eight years old.  I don’t need some TV director, who doesn’t know a hammer from a screw driver, bossin’ me around.”

 

“No one’s gonna boss you around.  I already made it clear to Clarice that--”

 

“Clarice?”

 

“Clarice Campbell.  The producer.  Anyway, I already made it clear to her that you’re the master craftsman.  That what you says goes.”

 

“That what I says goes?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“And she’s okay with that?”

 

“You bet she is.”

 

“Well. . . I don’t know, Chet.  I’m still not sure I’m interested in--”

 

“Johnny, please.  For me.  I never knew remodeling a house would cost so much.  I’ve barely started and already it’s drainin’ me dry.  But not only will all of us get paid for our TV work, I’m gonna get all the materials we use for free.”

 

“Really?”

“Yep.  Says so right in my contract.”

 

“And the other guys are willing to do this?  To be in this TV show I mean?”

 

“They will if you will.”

 

Chet crossed his fingers behind his back when he said that.  Looking back on it now he supposed he really wasn’t lying, just stretching the truth a bit since his co-workers had been certain Johnny would say no.  And if Johnny said, no then the TV show would die before it even had a chance to get on the air.

 

“Roy told me that Chris and Jenny are going out of their minds with excitement at the thought of their dad being on TV.  And Joanne. . .well she’s already told all the neighbors, and her mother, too.  And you know how her mother is when it comes to Roy.  The old lady doesn’t think Roy is good enough for Joanne.  Never has.  But this. . .

well, Joanne’s mom is pretty impressed let me tell you.  And then there’s Mike’s kids. . . they’re nuts over the idea.  Of course, they’re a little young to really understand, and seem to think Mike’s gonna be playing Big Bird on Sesame Street for a few weeks, but hey, what do you expect from a two and three year old?  And Marco’s Mom told everyone at her church. . . all the people who prayed for you, Johnny, when you were in the hospital after that window fell on you.  I bet they’ll look upon your TV debut as some miracle from God. They had a revival and the whole bit.  You know, a prayer meeting peppered with a buncha hallelujah’s, a few Praise The Lords, the whole shot.”

 

“A revival?  Chet, Marco’s Catholic.  Catholics aren’t prone to holding revivals.”

 

“Well. . .okay.  An exorcism then.  Yeah, that’s what they held for you.  An exorcism.”

 

“Chet--”

 

“Look, it’s been a while since I’ve attended church, okay?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“But my point is, Marco’s mom had a whole slew of people prayin’ for you.  So like I said, they’ll think it’s neat to see you walkin’ around all healthy and stuff.  And Cap’s wife told her Edsel club, you know.  And my Mom. . .my mom is just beside herself with the thought of her little Chester being on TV.  And--”

 

“Okay, okay.  I’ll do it.  I’ll do it.”

 

Chet had to stifle his smile that morning. After all, if Johnny could read Chet’s expression he would have deciphered the Irishman’s not so complimentary thoughts.

 

Ah, Gage.  P.T. Barnum was right.  There is a sucker born every minute, and you’re the walking, talking proof of that.

 

Once Chet gave Clarice Campbell the go ahead, he was surprised at how quickly things fell into place.  The fact that the men doing the remodeling were Los Angeles County Firefighters seemed to cement the deal.  Clarice thought it would be interesting to show footage of the Station 51 A-shift at work, and intersperse that with home remodeling footage.

 

“It will make it more of human interest show, Chet.  If we stick to home remodeling the majority of the viewers we’ll draw in will be men.  But we want to draw in women, too. And children.  What better way to do that than to let them see you guys at work.”

 

“Really?  You think so?”

 

“Trust me, I know so.  The public is fascinated by firemen.  There’s a lot of very romantic notions about the job.”

 

“Romantic, huh?”  Chet had questioned, while thinking a little romance with the beautiful Clarice Campbell would be right up his alley.  The woman was a tall, slender, thirty year old chestnut brunett who favored wearing her shoulder length hair in a neat French braid.  Her gray eyes were so large and limpid a guy could get lost in them.  Everything from her china doll complexion to her small, straight nose was perfect.  Chet was amazed she wasn’t in front of the camera on some popular TV show herself.

 

“Yes. Romantic,” Clarice had assured.  “And that’s the emotion we’ll be playing on in an effort to draw in female viewers.”

 

“Hey, female viewers are cool.”

 

“You bet they are.  Especially if they encourage their husbands, boyfriends, and fathers to watch This Old House.”

 

As Clarice brushed by Chet now with an ‘all-business’ set to her jaw, the fireman said, “Hey, Clarice?  Have you thought any more about us watching the premiere of This Old House together at your place?”

Clarice Campbell pasted a smile on face as she turned around.

 

“No, Chet, I haven’t.  Sorry.  I’ve been too busy to think about much of anything lately except work.”

 

“Oh.  Well. . .maybe after today you’ll get a chance to relax a bit, huh?”

 

Clarice’s answer was a noncommittal, “Maybe,” as she stepped into the kitchen bustling with activity to talk to her assistant.  She found the man in a distant corner.

 

Dale Tolson smirked. 

 

“That Chet guy buggin’ you for a date again?”

 

“Again?  He hasn’t stopped bugging me since he signed the contract.  What a pain in the ass that shrimpy Irishman is proving to be.”

 

“You haven’t told him you’re seeing Gage, then?”

 

“Hell, no. Johnny told me I’d better not.  Said Chet would be unbearable if he found out.”

 

“So, is this thing with you and Gage serious?”

 

“Don’t know,” Clarice shrugged.  “We enjoy each other’s company for the time being.”

 

“In other words he’s good in the sack.”

 

Clarice laughed.  “Let’s put is this way, that paramedic knows how to cool a woman off when she’s on fire.”

 

“I thought you said he was egotistical, boring, and liked to hear himself talk.  How’d you jump from that to sleeping with the guy?”

 

“I got to know the guy, that’s how I jumped to it. He. . .John Gage is an anomaly if there ever was one.  If you judge him by surface appearances you come away thinking he’s a cross between the class clown and the most annoying kid in school.  But once you really get to know him you find out what an intelligent, caring, committed guy he is.”

 

“Committed?  As in he should be to a state mental facility like most of the bozos you date?”

 

“Ha, ha.  No. As in dedicated to his job and the guys he works with.  He loves what he does, and has a great deal of affection for these men he calls his friends.   He’d die for them, and them for him.  That’s. . .I just can’t imagine anyone who would be willing to do that for a co-worker, Dale.  And who is potentially put in that position each time he reports to work.  Johnny didn’t want to do this show, you know.”

 

“He didn’t?”

 

“Nope.  He thinks it’s a stupid idea.  He’s doing it for no other reason than Chet wants him, too.  Well, that and something about Roy’s kids, and Marco’s mother’s church, and some Edsel club, but. . .”

 

“A what?”

 

“I know, I know.  It sounds bizarre.  Hell, it is bizarre.  But that’s just the kind of guy Johnny is.”

 

“So does this mean I should rent a tux?”

 

“No, don’t do anything hasty like that.  You know my work takes me all over the country.  And Johnny’s job is very stressful.  Not to mention we both work odd hours to say the least. I don’t think either one of us ready to take on the responsibility of another person at this time.”

 

“So for now you’re just having a tryst?  Is that it?’

 

Clarice put her finger to her lips as she watched Johnny marking spots on the walls with a carpenter’s pencil where the new kitchen cabinets would hang.

 

“Shhh,” she teased in a stage whisper.  “Don’t tell anyone.  It’s a secret, remember?”

 

“If you keep ogling his ass like that it won’t be a secret much longer.”

 

Clarice batted her eye lashes and drawled in a thick Southern accent, “Now, sweetie pie, can I help it ifin’ my Johnny looks right purty in them thar Wrangler jeans?”

 

Dale grinned at his boss.  The woman rarely joked about anything when they were on a job.  Time was money, and money was time, and they always seemed to have too little of both.  It was good to hear her laugh.  Dale watched as Clarice’s demeanor changed to one of complete professional as she approached John Gage. By the way he reacted to her, an outside observer would never know they were seeing one another on the sly.  Johnny, too, kept his tone professional as he assured the producer he’d be ready for her to start filming in another twenty minutes.  Dale thought he saw a little twinkle in Johnny’s eyes as he turned back to his measurements, and he caught the half grin Johnny tossed the woman, but heck, a lot of guys grinned at Clarice.  She was a beautiful woman.  She inspired just about any man she crossed paths with to smile.  Including Chet Kelly.

 

The producer took a deep breath as Chet approached her. 

 

“Hey, Clarice, is there something I can help you with in here?”

 

“No, Chet.  We’re fine.  Thank you.”

 

“I could help one of your guys set up the lights or something maybe.”

 

“Thank you, Chet.  But again, no.  Only a union electrician can do that.”

 

“Well, then. . .maybe I can help the sound man.”

 

“Help him do what?”

 

“I don’t. . .I don’t know.  Whatever it is a sound man does.”

 

“My point exactly.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Clarice put a hand on Chet’s back and gently pushed him toward the door. 

 

“Why don’t you join the other guys down by Mike’s truck.  I think I heard them say they’re eating breakfast.”

 

“Well. . .if that’s really what you want me to do.”

“It is.”

 

“Are you gonna come down there, too?  Joanne DeSoto sent along some of her cinnamon coffee cake.  And Mike’s wife makes the best blueberry muffins you’ll ever taste.  I’ll save one for you.”

 

“That would be great.”

 

“How about some of each?  The coffee cake and a muffin I mean?”

 

“Sure, Chet.  Wonderful.”

 

Chet felt his heart go pitter patter when Clarice smiled at him.  She turned her beautiful face away when Johnny beckoned, “Reece?”

 

“Reece?”  Chet echoed with a cocked eyebrow.

 

Clarice spared the fireman a brief glance.  “It’s my nickname.”

 

“You never told me that.”

 

“That’s because I don’t invite everyone I meet to refer to me as such.”

 

“Then how come Gage gets to?”

 

“He just does, Chet.  After all, he is the star of This Old House, you know.”

 

“So that was written in his contract or something?”

 

“Or something.”

 

Chet didn’t like the smile that played on Clarice’s lips.  He didn’t like it one bit.

 

“Are you and Johnny--”

 

Those big gray eyes cast themselves upon Chet with all the innocence of a newborn babe’s. 

 

“Are me and Johnny what, Chet?”

 

“Uh. . .never mind.  Nothing.  I just thought. . forget it.  You’re right.  He is the star.  And I guess this was my idea, after all. I mean, I’m the one who talked him into doing it.”

 

“You’re right. You did.”

 

Chet had the feeling Clarice purposely postponed walking over to Johnny until he’d left the house.  The Irishman tried to see in through the kitchen window, but his view was blocked by people and equipment.

 

“Hey, Kelly!”  Hank Stanley shouted from the curb.  “Whatta ya’ doin’?  Practicing to be a peeping Tom?”

 

“Hardy har har,” Chet grumbled as he trudged across his front lawn towards his laughing co-workers.  “Gage is making time with my woman, and all these guys can do is stand around cracking bad jokes.”

 

“Why the long face, Chet?”  Roy asked as Chet joined him by the side of Mike’s Dodge.

 

The men had their breakfast spread out in the bed of the truck.  Aside from the muffins and coffee cake Chet had promised Clarice, there was enough doughnuts, sweet rolls, loaves of banana bread, thermoses of coffee, and jugs of orange juice to feed everyone present, including the film crew.

 

Chet waited until Marco, Cap and Mike were engaged in a conversation about fishing before turning to Roy.

 

“What do you know about Gage and Clarice?”

 

“What about them?” Roy asked.

 

“Is he seeing her?”

 

“Seeing her?”

 

“You know.  Dating her?”

 

“Not that I’m aware of.”

 

“You’re sure?  You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Roy?  I mean, if Johnny asked you not to tell me then I suppose—“

 

“Chet, I’m not lying to you.  And Johnny didn’t ask me not to tell you anything.  If he’s seeing Clarice then it’s news to me.”

 

 

Chet grinned.  “Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Johnny tells you everything.  So if he hasn’t told you about Clarice then I must be wrong.  They must not be dating.”

 

Roy wasn’t about to point out to Chet that he highly doubted Johnny told him everything. Or at least not before Johnny was good and ready to tell him.  But considering the grumpy mood Chet had been in when he first joined them by the truck made Roy decide to keep his mouth shut.

 

Hank Stanley nodded toward the house.  “Hey, Kelly.  She’s startin’ to shape up, huh?”

 

Pride lit Chet’s eyes as he looked at his bungalow.  Barker Windows had not only given him a new bay window for free, they hadn’t charged him for the other windows either.  They’d also paid the portion of Johnny’s hospital bill the fire department’s insurance didn’t cover like Cap had suggested they should. 

 

If Johnny had any qualms about returning to Chet’s home to help install those windows once Doctor Brackett cleared him for normal activity, they didn’t show.  He arrived at the crack of dawn one Saturday morning in November with the rest of the Station 51 A-shift, plus the entire B-shift, and by Saturday night the work was done.

 

Now that the film crew had arrived the weeks ahead would see Chet’s house transform itself to the peaceful cottage he had long envisioned.  Under Johnny’s guidance they’d be installing new bathroom fixtures, putting on a new roof, siding the outside of the house, and eventually finishing up with new paint and carpeting for all the inside rooms.  Not to mention the work on the kitchen that would be done today.

 

Aside from the installation of the windows, the only other major project recently finished that wouldn’t be caught on film was the installation of the central heating/air conditioning system.  Like a lot of older homes in relatively warm climates, Chet’s bungalow had a space heater when he purchased it.  Chet’s work as a fireman had long ago taught him how dangerous that means of heating a home could be.  Especially when the space heaters are half a century old.  He’d talked to Johnny about installing the new system, but that was one job the paramedic refused to tackle.

 

“I don’t know anything about running gas lines, Chet.  I know it won’t be cheap, but in this case I think you’re better off hiring someone who does that kind of work for a living.  It’s just too dangerous for an amateur to mess around with.”

 

Though Chet hardly considered Johnny an amateur when it came to home remodeling, he deferred to the paramedic’s wisdom in this matter.  Chet got estimates from several local heating/air conditioning companies.  He finally went with a firm that offered him a price he could afford, and that had been recommended by a neighbor down the street.

 

Hank Stanley interrupted Chet’s thoughts.

 

“So what’s on tap for today, Chet?”

 

“We’re gonna hang the kitchen cabinets, get the new flooring down, and put up the new woodwork.”

 

“Sounds like we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

 

“I guess.  But it’s worth it for what they’re payin’ us, don’t ya’ think, Cap?”

 

Hank grabbed a second blueberry muffin from the bed of Mike’s truck.

 

“The money’s nice,” Hank agreed, thinking of how a little extra income never hurt when a man was putting two daughters through college.

 

The firemen watched as various members of the film crew began to drift outside and head for Mike’s truck.  They’d all been invited to partake in the breakfast spread Joanne DeSoto, Peggy Stoker, Grace Stanley, and Marco’s mom, Carmita Lopez, had sent along with their men that morning.

 

Chet took a mental roll call as people gathered around the Dodge filling paper plates and pouring juice into Styrofoam cups.  He knew the crew consisted of twenty people.  When he got to number nineteen he realized who was missing.

 

Clarice is still in the house with Gage.  Alone in the house with Gage.

 

Chet turned toward his home, only to see Clarice step out the front door with a clipboard in hand.  She leafed through several sheets of paper as she walked.  Chet grabbed the last blueberry muffin from Marco’s hand as it was headed for the fireman’s mouth.

 

“Hey!  What’s the big idea, Chet?”

 

“Marco, I know you’re not gonna like hearin’ this, but I’m your friend so I guess I should be the one to tell you, you’re puttin’ on a little weight there, pal.”

 

“A little weight?  Chet--”

 

The firemen shook their heads as they watched Chet race toward the producer. He met her halfway across the front lawn, offering her the blueberry muffin as though he was handing her a diamond ring.

 

“I think he’s gonna get down on bended knee,”  Hank remarked.

 

“Does Chet have something going with her?”  Mike asked.

 

“Not yet,” Roy said.  “Though I think he’s got his sights set on that goal.  He was just quizzing me about Clarice and Johnny.”

 

“Clarice and Johnny?”  Marco asked as he reached for a slice of his mother’s banana bread since Chet had taken the last blueberry muffin.  “Is something going on between them?”

 

“Only in Chet’s imagination.  Or at least as far as I know.”

 

“Well then, that must be the case, ‘cause if there was something going on between Clarice and Johnny you’d find it out before any of the rest of us.  Johnny tells you everything.”

 

“Why do you guys think that?”

 

“Because it’s true,” Mike said.  “You and Johnny are tight.”

 

“Yeah.  But he doesn’t tell me everything.”

 

“Sure he does.”

 

“No, he doesn’t.”

 

“Okay.  Name one thing you don’t know about John Gage.”

 

“Mike--”

 

“I’m serious, Roy.  Name one thing.”

 

“Well...let’s see, I don’t--”

 

“See, you can’t do it.”

 

“Yes, I can.  Just give me a few seconds here.”

 

“I’ll help you out.  What’s Johnny’s favorite drink?”

 

“White milk.”

 

“Favorite magazine?”

 

“Wheels And Gears.”

 

“How does he like his coffee?”

 

“Black.”

 

“Favorite hobbies?”

 

“Bowling, camping, and hiking.”

 

“Best sport in high school?”

 

“Track.”

 

“Favorite TV show?”

 

“Adam-12.”

 

“Favorite cartoon?”

 

“Sylvester and Tweety Bird.  But, Mike, those are easy questions.  Anyone who’s worked with Johnny as long as I have could answer those questions.”

 

“Okay.  Next level.  Name of Johnny’s first grade teacher?”

 

“Mrs. Booth.”

 

“First crush?”

 

“A little girl named Aubrey.”

 

“How old?”

 

“What?”

 

“How old was he when he had a crush on this girl?”

 

“Five.”

 

“Gee, he started young.  I didn’t even wanna look at girls until I hit about thirteen.  But that sounds like Johnny,” Mike said as he took a long swig of juice. 

“What thing did he do that got him in the most trouble with his folks when he was four?”

 

“Putting crayons in the toaster.  And toasting them.”

 

“And at ten?”

 

“Riding his bike out of the hay mow.”

 

Hank Stanley choked on his doughnut.  “Riding his bike out of where?”

 

“The hay mow.  He piled hay bales on the ground and thought he could land in them.  He over shot ‘em by about ten feet and broke his collarbone.  Said he was lucky he was in so much pain because that’s about the only thing that stopped his dad from killing him for doing something so stupid.”

 

“How about at fifteen?”  Mike asked.  “What got him in the most trouble at fifteen?”

“Hot wiring his father’s truck, picking up a twenty-two year old woman, and taking her to a drive-in movie.”

 

“Geez,” Hank chuckled, “I’m surprised John’s father let him live to see sixteen.”

 

“Johnny was surprised about that, too.  Only it wasn’t his father who was furious this time, it was his mother.”

 

“I can understand why,” Marco said, thinking of how any mother would react to discover her fifteen year old son went on a date with a twenty-two year old woman.

 

“So see,” Mike said to Roy,  “this just proves it.  There’s nothing Johnny doesn’t tell you.”

 

“Then assure Chet of that fact for me, please.  If I have to spend the next two months with him following me around asking me questions about Johnny and Clarice I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

 

Chet walked backwards in front of Clarice, his tongue never tiring.

 

“And I know of a real nice Italian restaurant where we could have a quiet meal and—“

 

 

 “I don’t like Italian food.”

 

“Okay.  It doesn’t have to be Italian then.  It can be anything you want.  Any place you wanna go.”

 

“Chet, let’s not worry about dinner right now, okay?  It’s barely seven-thirty in the morning.  I’d just like to get a hot cup of coffee before we start filming.”

 

“Sure.  Sure, I understand.  We can talk about it later.  I’ll get the coffee for you.  Black?  Or with cream and sugar?”

 

“Black will be fine.”

 

Clarice caught Roy’s smile as she joined the firemen by the far side of Mike’s truck.  They didn’t have to worry about any danger from standing in the street.  This portion of Chet’s neighborhood had been blocked off for the filming. 

 

“Don’t let Chet get on your nerves,” Roy said.  “He’s not a bad guy.  Just a little overly enthusiastic when the mood strikes.”

 

“Not a problem.  I’m used to dealing with guys like him.  Women in my position in the TV industry are still uncommon.  If I had a dime for every unwelcome advance I’ve fielded I’d be able to retire.”

 

Roy nodded, knowing Clarice was probably correct. 

 

“Where’s Johnny?” 

 

The woman flicked her right thumb over her shoulder while glancing down at her clipboard again.

 

“In the kitchen.  He’s finishing up a couple things before we get started. I sent everyone out here so he wouldn’t have to trip over them.”

 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty cramped in there, huh?  I didn’t realize it took this many people to make a TV show,”  Roy said as he surveyed the small crowd gathered around Mike’s truck.

 

“It takes a number of helping hands, that’s for sure.”  Clarice did her best to smile at Chet when he approached with her coffee.  “Thanks, Chet.”