Thursday, October 13, 2016

Generation Eight — Chapter Two: Hello, Goodbye, Er, Wait?

 Trenton was uncertain just why Jett announced early one morning that he was moving out. He’d been doing some fabulous work at the restaurant, making all the changes Trenton had discussed with both him and James. He couldn’t help but think it was the triplets.  Yes, three babies could be very demanding and quite noisy. Trenton had taken to stuffing cotton in his ears upon his return home. If Jett required quiet, then Trenton was okay with his moving out. However, he also quit the restaurant, leaving the task to just James and himself. This he was not okay with. Without Jett’s help, the restaurant had become a burden.

  Without his excellent management, the restaurant wobbled between four and a half stars to a full five star rating. Trenton made sure his chefs were fully trained. Sergio had maxed out his cooking and mixology skills. Trenton gave him a raise and was always quick to praise him and give the occasional inspirational speech, if needed. But, just the other day, he realized his head chef was getting older. 
While the restaurant cranked along at top speed churning out delicious meals, and the Wait Staff maintained its Excellence in Service, Trenton was struggling with his fear of crowds. He was a loner by trait, and welcomed Jett’s willingness to come in at a moment’s notice and give Trenton the needed break. That was no longer. Dad did his best to help fill in, but he was still working for that other place bringing in the much-needed Simoleons. With Mom gone, they were down to really only one paycheck. Trying to get the proper Ambiance for the Old Alcove was proving costly. He was only slightly annoyed that yet again, even after the cloth covered tables and the booths were replaced with cloth-covered chairs, the change in chandeliers, et al, that this critique still popped up at him. What more was he supposed to do?   

   Stopping off at the mailbox on his way in,   he found the utility bill in the stack of mostly junk mail. Carefully breaking the seal, he unfolded the statement and perused the bottom line. Then he ran a hand through his jet black hair. “How in this world? I don’t have the money for this.”  Somehow, he owed over ten thousand Simoleons! The third floor was all but bare,   stripped of everything that had once made it a nice cozy apartment.   Did he need to peal off the wallpaper next, pull up the flooring? Looking around him, there was so very little left to sell.
Setting the bill on the desk, he decided to go out back and relax by sliding on the Slippery Slide. He hadn’t done so in a very long time. Besides, he heard his father out there laughing and having a good old time.
“Dad,” Trenton said, joining his father on the patio.
“I didn’t hear you come in, when did you get home?” James said, smiling.
“Oh, not long ago. Thought I’d work off some of the steam by taking a few slides.”
James clapped his son on the shoulder. “No better way to relax, unless you sit in a sauna.”
     “I seriously contemplated that on my way home. But I wanted to see my babies. They’re only babies once and won’t be for much longer.”  After the two made a couple of rounds sliding down the mat, it turned into a bit of a competition. Trick slides became the order of the day. Then suddenly, something went amiss. James had stopped for a bit to rest and was up on the patio. He was in no way close to being exhausted. James watched in horror as his father suddenly collapsed. In what seemed like slow motion, the elder came to rest on the patio floor. Trenton ran up the short set of stairs, while Gramps floated onto the scene. Looking over their shoulders, they both saw Grimmie.  
    “No, Dad, no! It can’t be time. Please,” Trenton began to sob. Now, he really felt alone.

   Tiana came running out of the house. 
   “Trent, what is it, what’s wrong?” 
“I’m an orphan. Dad’s gone.” 

      “I’m so sorry. I really liked your Dad. He was a good Sim.”
“I just keep wondering what are we going to do, now?” 

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