(Almost done--maybe one more little post after this!)
Chapter 11
With impeccable timing, Robin arrived at Kermit’s elbow just as the first guests were saying goodbye and once again displayed his good manners. He was gracious, funny and, to almost anyone but Kermit, seemed completely composed. He wore his still-damp swim trunks and he had just pulled on his Zombie Revolution t-shirt but there was something indefinably…rumpled about him—rumpled and flustered. Kermit looked at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to put one froggy finger on what was different. Piggy would have had no trouble putting her satin-gloved finger on it—she had seen the same look on Kermit many, many times before. The two frogs stood there, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the party guests trail off into the night.
The band packed up and left the neighborhood ringing in the silence of their absence.
Finally, it was just the The Frogs, the caterers and the Kidds, and they closed the back gate and went into the house. Kermit noticed that Robin and Nancy stood near each other but barely looked at each other, and he hoped that they hadn’t had an argument.
Louise embraced Piggy warmly, a sight that made both their husbands smile—Louise so small and compact, and Piggy so soft and lush.
“Thank vous for coming!” Piggy said. Louise gave Piggy an air kiss, then turned and gave Kermit a real one on his flushed froggy cheek.
“Try not to be too hard on them when we’ve gone,” Louise teased, and Kermit mumbled something noncommittal.
Billy kissed Piggy’s hand, then her cheek, and engulfed Kermit in a back-slapping embrace.
“Your wife throws a mean party,” he said, grinning. “Let’s have a grown-up version sometime soon.
“Oh, um, yeah,” said Kermit, feeling just a little tweaked by everyone’s amusement. As though sensing it, Billy reached out and shook Kermit’s hand solidly, looking into his bulbous eyes.
“Call me, won’t you? I’ve got some friends with too much money and no sense about what to do with it. I’ve been trying to get them interested in supporting the theater. Call me and we’ll all do lunch, okay?”
Kermit’s smile was a little more genuine. “Promise,” he said. “I, er, thanks for coming to help Piggy out. I know she appreciated the help.”
“I know she needed it!” Billy teased, and was rewarded when Kermit gave him a solemn “uh huh!” in return.
Bill walked out the door, followed by Louise, who turned back once and gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod to Nancy before herding her husband toward the driveway. Nancy looked to make sure her father was gone, then turned and kissed Robin sweetly on the cheek.
“G’night, Robin,” Nancy said, smiling shyly but triumphantly at Robin’s dumbfounded expression. She turned and smiled at Kermit and Piggy.
“Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. The Frog,” said Nancy. “It was a wonderful night.” She followed her parents to their car.
The front door closed, and there were at least two whole seconds of absolute silence, then Piggy and Robin began speaking at the same time.
“Please don’t blame Robin! It was Moi’s fault. I shouldn’t have—“
“Uncle Kermit, don’t be mad at Piggy. I begged her to—“
“Stop!” Kermit said. No one paid him the slightest attention.
“—really shouldn’t ground him, Sweetie, for something Moi did, when all—“
“—don’t want to cause trouble between you two. It was my fault—totally—“
“Stop! Stop—I, this is—stop!” Kermit said. He was having a déjà vu moment, remembering all those times at the theater when he had been ostensibly in charge but completely ignored. One thing he knew, and that was that he could not withstand both of them at the same time.
“—know if you just listened—“
“—accept whatever you want to do to me, just don’t be—“
Kermit had had a long day, a miserably long day, and that on the heels of a not-so-stellar week, and his fuse, still smoking from his earlier adventures at the airport, fanned easily into flame again.
“STOP!” he bellowed. “STOP RIGHT NOW!”
There was, at least, a pause in the chatter, and Kermit barged right into the silence.
“You!” he said. “And you! Stop! Not another word!” He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at them. “I refuse to deal with both of you at the same time!” He pointed Robin down the short hallway. “You—into the den and wait for me! Chop chop!”
Robin looked at him, then his eyes slid over to Piggy, clearly asking if she would be all right if he left. Kermit saw it and it hit a nerve.
“Now, young frog! Right this minute! I’ll deal with you when I’m done here!”
Robin slunk off, with one more worried look toward Piggy.
Piggy watched Robin go just to avoid looking at Kermit’s angry countenance. When he turned the corner and disappeared, she turned back to her husband and startled to find him so close to her. Without a word, he gestured shortly toward the living room and Piggy went, backing up the first few steps before turning around and leading the way.
Oh! He looked so angry! Piggy tried to brace herself, but she wasn’t sure how to do it, or what she could say to him now. She did not think what she had done was wrong—technically, but he was obviously angry, and she steeled herself to take the brunt of his temper. She turned to face him, blue eyes wide, but Kermit just gestured curtly toward the couch.
“Sit,” he said grimly. Piggy sat.
“Do you have any idea what my week has been like?” Kermit asked.
Piggy started to answer, but Kermit plunged ahead and she had to bite her lip to keep from interrupting him.
“Scooter and I had a miserable time on this trip—just miserable. Well, except for the fans,” he amended grudgingly. “The fans were terrific but the trip itself just stunk. Everything went wrong—every transfer, appointment, hotel reservation—you name it! Everything! The beds were hard, the food was bad—there was not one thing that went right this week except I wasn’t totally alone on this trip. Thank God for Scooter who would rather have been home, too. I—I’m embarrassed to admit it but it sortof helped that he didn’t want to be there, either.”
“I’m sor—“
“Because the whole time I was gone I wanted to know that I was not the most miserable person on the whole planet.”
“Sweetie—“
“Look—it goes with the job. I know that—I’ve always known it, and I’ve always taken that seriously. Part of being the boss is going out and doing the things that have to be done even when you’d rather be home.”
“I’d rather you were home,” Piggy offered in a small voice, but Kermit ignored her, pacing the plush carpet in front of the couch.
“And the whole time I’m gone—the whole time I’m gone, I’m thinking about how my doing the hard stuff, the necessary stuff, makes all of…all of this other stuff possible—the movies, the shows, everything else.”
“Kermie, we appreci—“
“But beyond all that—besides all that—do you know what make it all worthwhile? Do you know what makes it okay?”
Piggy was silent, watching him with gentleness in her eyes.
“Do you?”
Piggy roused herself to answer, but Kermit cut her off before she could.
“It was the thought that when it was all over, I’d be coming home—home to you and Robin and the gang—the cast and the crew and the theater. It’s all I thought about while I was gone—wanting to come back to my life here.”
His expression was angry, but there was something in his bulbous eyes that Piggy had not expected to see—hurt. Somehow, they had hurt him, but she didn’t quite understand how.
She started to stand but Kermit was pacing so close to the couch that it was impossible. Instead, Piggy reached out and snagged one of his hands as he went by, twining his froggy fingers with her own. For a moment, he just stared at their intertwined fingers and Piggy thought for a moment that he would pull away, but he did not. He stood there a minute, not looking at her, but letting her hold his hand. Piggy gave him a moment—a long one—and then she tugged gently on his hand and patted the couch beside her.
“Sit by me,” she entreated. For an instant, Piggy thought he would not, then Kermit made an unhappy grimace and sat down beside her. They were not far apart on the couch, but Piggy felt the invisible gulf between them, the barrier of hurt and anger that had been erected between them by her actions and his words.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Tell me what we did that made you so unhappy.”
“Besides the party?” he snapped, but Piggy called him on it with a look.
“Yes,” she said seriously. “Besides the party. I…I understand that Moi should have told you we were going to have the party—should have asked your permiss—“
“It’s not that,” Kermit muttered. “It’s just—“ He fell silent again, staring up at the ceiling. Piggy waited for him, squeezing his hand to remind him that she was here, and that she was sorry. “It’s just that…when I came home—and you have no idea how much I wanted to be home—I felt…I came home and there was this whole…extravaganza—at my house, in my yard, with my wife and nephew and I just…I just felt…” He fell silent, struggling for words.
Piggy waited for him, the only thing she could offer him since she did not know what words to use.
“I felt…left out.”
There. He’d said it. Kermit felt his face flame with heat and clamped his lips together to keep from saying anything else.
For an instant, Piggy was shocked into silence, but she fought it, groping for words almost before she could think them.
“But, Sweetie—we were just—“ She stopped, thinking what to say, how to say it. “It happened sortof at the last minute,” Piggy said slowly. “But we thought you’d be…sortof horrified by the whole thing.”
“I know,” Kermit cried plaintively. “You thought I’d be a big killjoy.”
Surprise made Piggy’s mouth open and she goggled at him. Something in her silence must have communicated to Kermit, even though he was not looking at her, and he slid his eyes down to see why she was so silent. Her expression must have surprised him as much as his words had surprised her, for he stared at her uncertainly then.
“Moi does not think you are a killjoy!” she said indignantly. “We—I, it was only because of all the fuss and bustle,” Piggy insisted. “I know you like to come home and find refuge from…all that other stuff, the stuff you have to do. I thought you wouldn’t like all the bustle getting ready for the party—Moi never thought for one minute that you wouldn’t enjoy or add to the enjoyment of it.” That last was said with some heat, and Kermit looked at her, astonished.
“So…so you didn’t plan it on purpose for when I was gone—“
“Of course not! I just thought you would worry about everything going okay without you here to help.”
Kermit looked at her skeptically. “And about all the kids running all over the house?”
“Well you would have worried. But they were all very nice,” Piggy insisted.
“And about hiring the Mayhem?” Kermit’s eyes bored into hers, daring her to lie to him. This one was not so easily dismissed.
“They were…they were available on short notice and the kids sortof like that retro stuff. What was Moi supposed to do—hook up your ipod?”
Kermit squinted at her, suspecting a personal foul. “But…but when I did come home—“
“Yes!” Piggy cried, exultant. “When you did come home, you were very charming and hospitable, weren’t you?”
“I would have been more hospitable if I’d known I was having company,” Kermit griped, still piqued, but he was starting to smile.
Piggy saw the smile and stopped, not certain what it signified. Kermit squeezed her hand and sighed, gazing at her with something like bemusement. “First I’m scary. Now I’m charming and hospitable.”
Piggy looked at him, willing him to believe it—all of it—and more.
“You’re a frog of many talents,” she said softly, and laughed breathily when he leaned to her and displayed yet another one.
Things were quieter now at the The Frog household. Piggy had paced the living room in some anxiety while Kermit had gone down the hall to talk to Robin, but at last the door to the den opened and Robin emerged. He looked downcast but not downtrodden and Piggy brightened a little at the sight of him, unscathed.
Robin flopped down on the big comfortable couch beside Piggy and they exchanged rueful and woebegone expressions.
“Well, I’m grounded for life.”
There was a huge sigh. “No surprises there.”
“Nope. What about you? What’d he say to you?”
“Oh, I’m grounded for life, too,” said Robin, “except—“
Piggy sat up and looked at Robin joyfully. “Oh Sweetie! Did he—“
“He said I could go!” Robin said, sighing hugely with relief. “It may be the only time I see daylight for the next ten years, but Uncle Kermit said I could go on vacation with the Kidds and then on to soccer camp.”
Piggy surged up off the couch and kissed him, squealing excitedly. Kermit heard the commotion and came and stood in the doorway, scowling at both of them. When Piggy had finished hugging Robin, she hopped off the couch, walked up to Kermit and threw her arms around him too.
“Oh, Sweetheart!” she cried, pressing kisses on his cheek, his jaw, his aural organs. “Vous are sooo wonderful, such a good uncle, such a wonderful frog!”
Kermit continued to scowl, but he did manage to offer Piggy the portion of his cheek that had not yet been thoroughly smooched.
“Yeah, well….” he began.
“No—you are! You are you are you are you are!” she sing-songed.
“I think we’ve already used that line, Piggy,” he said dryly, and moved his arm out from his body so she could hold onto him better. While he was at it, he put the arm around her, pulling her closer to him.
“I knew you would forgive us,” Piggy gushed. Kermit half-turned and put his other arm tight around Piggy. His expression, when he looked down at her, was stern and implacable.
“Who says I forgive you?” he said.
“But—“
“You still had a wild party in my house!”
“Our house,” she reminded him, gazing at him adoringly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kermit huffed. “You hired the Electric Mayhem to give a concert at my house!”
“Our house, Dear One,” she murmured.
“And you let Animal loose in the garden!” he complained.
Piggy nestled closer, her golden head on his chest. “Well, technically that was Floyd,” she said. “We didn’t want him to—“
“And you invited horde of rowdy teenagers to my house!”
“Athletic, Sweetie—not rowdy….”
“Yeah—and they think you’re totally awesome, Uncle Kermit!” Robin ventured from the edge of the couch. Reminding Kermit of his presence was probably a technical mistake. Kermit jabbed a slim froggy finger in his direction.
“You! You—go to bed! Now! No TV, no computer, no phone, no…no technology! Do you hear me young frog? I mean it! None! Kaput! Nada! Get going!”
“Yes sir.” With every appearance of docility, Robin started to his room, but when he started to pass by Kermit, he reached out with one long arm and hugged his uncle hard around the middle. Kermit stood proof against this sign of affection for a few beats, then bent and pressed a kiss on the back of Robin’s neck.
“Love you, Uncle Kermit,” Robin said feelingly. Awkwardly, Kermit patted him on the back.
“You’re a good kid—mostly,” Kermit muttered. “Just—go to bed. And no more parties at my house unless I say so.”
Robin nodded, beaming, and headed for his room, leaving Kermit and Piggy alone in the den. For several minutes, Kermit just stood there in the doorway, swaying and holding his wife. At last, he spoke.
“They…they think I’m awesome?” he asked at last. “Really?”
“Really really,” said Piggy. “Scary, charming and hospitable. And now they think you’re awesome.” She kissed him on the chest through the gap between buttons on his polo shirt.
“Oh yeah? What about you?” Kermit asked at last. “Do you think I’m awesome?”
“Huh uh,” Piggy murmured.
Kermit looked down at her in surprise at the exact moment Piggy looked up into his eyes. “Moi doesn’t think,” she said softly. “I happen to know.” She stretched up and kissed him on his froggy lips, holding the contact long enough that he warmed up to it and eventually, kissed her back. When he pulled away, Piggy was looking at him with loving devotion in her blue, blue eyes.
“You are such a good frog,” she said fervently.
“Oh yeah?” said Kermit, turning her toward the hallway. “Well—you’re still grounded—how do you like that?”
Piggy leaned her shining head on his shoulder as they walked toward the stairs. “So, I have to stay home—where you are?”
“That’s right—you have to stay home where, um, I am.”
“Then I like it just fine,” Piggy said softly. And kissed him to seal the deal.