Chapter 3

(Angel)

This Is How We Binge!

"Notebook, check, sticky notes, check, highlighters, pens, posterboards…" Angel murmured.

"Check, check, and check," Bella replied as she set up the easel in the far corner of the living room and positioned a corkboard on it. "And I remembered the pushpins this time."

"Good, because sticking the pieces on the board with broken toothpicks worked in a pinch, but after a while that shit got hazardous," Angel reminded her, a glance down at the scar on the back of his hand all the reminder he needed of their folly that day, especially when there was a mini-mart three doors down that carried a little bit of everything, including the pushpins they'd been lacking.

"Lunch prep is done, dinner prep is done, and breakfast smells positively decadent," Bella declared as she surveyed the room. "We are ready to binge like there is no tomorrow."

A blue and gray sectional sofa dominated the living room, its huge, fluffy ottomans a far better choice than any old coffee table. Instead of having to lean forward they could work with their feet up, food on the end tables beside the section they'd each claimed. Angel flipped open the notebook Bella handed him and rested it on his thigh before taking a sip of the magnificent latte Dion had brought for him. There were egg bites on one side of the plate, lemon drizzled strawberries in the middle, and a donut on the opposite side of them, already cut up so he didn't drop crumbs and icing bits all over his pages.

"Okay, so lay it all out for me," Dion said as he stretched his legs out and hit play on episode one of the first season, "What are we working on today?"

"A splash pad for Brabham Park," Angel explained. "Other neighborhoods have them and they're always full. Short of convincing them to build a pool in our part of town it was the next best thing we could come up with to offer some relief from the heat for the kids who still like to play outdoors."

"We went around and conducted a poll, with the majority of families indicating that they'd visit the splash pad on a regular basis, especially if they didn't have to drive to get to it. And we've all seen the way the kids flock to the spray whenever the fire department bleeds a hydrant. You can't keep them back even when you threaten them, which was why I was so pleased to see that they'd stopped threatening to track down their parents and hit them with thousand-dollar fines just for their kids being kids," Bella said. "I could see if the hydrants were being opened illegally, but they're not and all that water is being wasted anyway, why not let the kids enjoy it for a few minutes before they go back to sweltering in the summer sun?"

"See, and that's what bothers me about the city's declaration that they'll only cover a third of the expenses for the splash pad," Angel said. "They know it's hot out there, they know they've kickstarted projects in other neighborhoods, fully funded ones at that, designed to encourage kids to spend more time playing outdoors and less in front of a screen. Not only are childhood obesity numbers up all over the city, but so are the statistics on the percentage of children who need glasses and contacts."

"Giving kids a safe place to play during summer should be a top priority, especially when the same officials who refuse to fully fund the splash pad are the first ones to label today's youth as lazy and unambitious when they're out there making speeches about what's wrong in the neighborhood," Bella declared, the passion in their voices impossible not to be moved by.

"Well yeah, when they reflect back on Generation X and Early Millennials, of course they're going to see some disparity," Dion said. "We were the last generation forced to be ambitious when it came to the way we played, considering how we were shoved out the door after breakfast and expected not to return until the streetlights hummed. Every stick, rope, and trashcan lid was an adventure. Don't get me started on the brutal obstacle course that was the playground. That soil underneath the merry-go-round has soaked up more blood than a warehouse full of Maxi-pads and practically funded that new wing they added on the hospital, what was it, sixteen years ago?"

"More like eighteen, but you're not wrong. Pops and The Old Man should have at least had a room named in their honor with how much they'd paid over the years in ER bills and plaster of Paris." Bella said. "Mostly on you. I don't remember a single summer when you didn't have a cast on."

"So, was he a daredevil, accident prone, or a mix of both?" Angel asked as he twirled the straw around in his drink.

"More like the clumsiest giraffe in the herd," Belly replied, giggling at the look her brother shot her, then her eyes lit up. "Oh my god, remember that video I showed you of the giraffe coming out of the trailer so gracefully for about a half a stride before it fell on its face and nearly got run over by the giraffe rushing out behind it? That was my brother on a good day, but heaven help us when he decided to show off."

Ohhh, now they were getting somewhere. Angel leaned forward a little, eager for her to dish the tea. "How much worse did it get?"

"Only catastrophe city with a sprinkle of acid rain."

Giggling, Angel kicked his feet a little. "Damn!"

"Thanks a lot," Dion grumbled, his narrow eyed dejected looking making Angel giggle more it was so damned fake. "I'll just sit over here and relive my childhood traumas, thank you very much."

"You're welcome," Bella replied.

"Just remember that you were at the heart of all of my misfortunes," Dion said, pointing an accusing finger at her, voice rising a few octaves to mimic what she might have sounded like as a kid. "Come on D, peddle faster, peddle faster, make it go as fast as the rides at the carnival! I was literally riding around in a circle tethered to the merry go round you were riding on, trying to achieve speeds no thirdhand bike or twelve-year-old was ever meant to reach."

Bella shrugged, cheeks pinking up a little. "Okay, so that was an awful idea, but how was I supposed to know? I was only seven, you were the big brother who was supposed to have common sense."

"Now you just sound like Pops."

"Oh, you take that back!" Bella said as she chucked a pillow at his head, catching him on the cheek just as he was taking a bite of his fritter. Crumbs erupted right along with a fit of laughter from all three of them as Dion threw his hands up and muttered really .

"All these years and you've still got no home training," Bella remarked, rubbing it in. "I hope you're still good with a vacuum."

"Me? My food would have gone right where it was intended to, in my mouth, if it hadn't been for you!"

"In your mouth, in your goatee, sprinkled down the front of your shirt," Bella giggled, prompting Dion to sigh and look down at himself before brushing off the offending crumbs.

For Angel, their banter was no different than a night spent at home, where he and his roommates couldn't get through a twenty-three-minute sitcom without throwing more snark at one another than they were dishing out on the scene. As things started to finally mellow out between them, Angel turned his thoughts back to the question Dion had posed.

"So, like I mentioned before, the city is only offering to fund a third of the project," Angel said as the first relationship explosion played out on the screen. "With a hundred-thousand-dollar price tag, that leaves over sixty-six thousand dollars to raise."

"Is that hundred thousand the full scope of the project, or the cost of the splash pad itself?" Dion asked.

"That's permits, materials, and labor," Angel explained.

"Hmmmm," Dion said, stroking his chin. His cinnamon hued gaze might have been glued to the events playing out on the screen, but Angel could tell, just from the absent way he tapped his pen against the edge of the notebook, that his mind was elsewhere. "Have you gotten any bids from contractors yet?"

"No," Bella said. "We did comparison cost analysis and drew up our proposal that way, intending to wait to get bids once we were certain the project was a go, which is up in the air until we figure out if we're going to have enough money to make it happen."

"But we do have our site evaluation and project drawings, though were not completely sold on them yet," Angel admitted. "They feel too generic, and I can't help but think we should do something to make it distinctive and reflective of our neighborhood."

"And you'd be right," Dion said. "If this is something that is truly meant to be for the community then you need to go out and get the businesses within the community involved with more than just funding it. Find some stakeholders, let them have some creative input on design elements, maybe even sponsor a piece to reflect their business."

"Ohhhh," Bella said, sitting up a little more and rapidly slurping her drink.

"That's brilliant," Angel declared, excitement coursing through him. "The hair salon can sponsor a mini-water slide designed to look like flowing locks and Johnson's Pizzeria can provide the water wheels, each designed like a different kind of pizza."

"Shit, I bet Mr. Redding would jump at the chance to create something that reflected his mouth-watering ribs," Bella said.

"You know he'll find a way to slip the coleslaw in," Angel reminded him.

Dion cupped his hands around his mouth and mock bellowed. "Don't forget the slaw!"

"Oh my god that was the best commercial to every come out of this neighborhood," Angel declared as images from it tumbled through his head.

"He's a character and his place has served as a gathering spot within the community since before any of us were born," Dion pointed out. "If anyone would have some creative suggestions to add to your plans, it would be him."

Bella hummed, while Angel rubbed his nose, suddenly reminded of the photographs they'd unearthed of the park, taken in its early years.

"Remember those hot dog venders with the rolling silver carts from the photos we looked at?" Angel asked, turning his attention toward Bella.

"Yes, but I doubt they'd pass health and sanitation codes these days," Bella said.

"They wouldn't have to when they've been replaced by food trucks," Angel declared, the ideas really beginning to flow now. "We can get with them too. Think about the pad itself. We'd talked about having a splash golf course, well, why not let business sponsor the different holes, which would include their logos and a feature that represented who they are and what they do."

"You're on to something there," Dion said as he scribbled on the pad. "Keep talking it out."

Like he needed much encouragement, though he did appreciate it and the rush of having Dion's full and undivided attention fixed firmly on him.

"Okay, so what if we were to get different artists to come in and each use a bench as their canvas?" Angel suggested.

"We'd need to approve the design, of course and make sure it was child friendly, but that would be an awesome way for them to display their work," Bella replied, thoughtfully. "But how would we choose?"

"Don't make it about choice," Dion suggested. "Sell the space the same way they sell advertisement spots on the sides of busses and if there is an artist in need of a sponsor because they can't fund it themselves, then think of the opportunity for collaboration."

Angel nodded, wheels already turning as several ideas came to mind.

"Maybe we need to create some type of tier system for sponsorship," Bella suggested. "That way its level across the board. Each tier has a different number of options and an increase in logo size, that sort of thing, then we can circulate it around and get a feel for just how many would be interested in purchasing one."

"That's a good idea," Dion said. "We'll need to come up with a list of everything a business could potentially sponsor, then divide them up into categories somehow."

"I think we'll still need to attribute a fee to each of the list items individually, so if a company or solo business owner wished to purchase one separately, they'd have that option too," Angel insisted, knowing at least two up and coming entrepreneurs who'd want to contribute something, despite being cash poor right now.

"Yes, definitely, the last thing you'd want would be to alienate any of the smaller business owners or home businesses," Dion agreed.

"But do you really think we can get sixty-six thousand dollars raised through tiers and advertisement options alone?" Bella asked, voicing the question Angel had been mulling over as well.

"It's not impossible but you will want to have a backup plan," Dion suggested. "Something that packs a punch and will bring attention, and cash from outside the community. It's got to be unique, so the media will have no choice but to pay attention. Short too, a one day only sort of thing. I'd usually advise against putting all your eggs in one basket, but for this you'll want to pull out all the stops since it would be your contingency plan and a way of, hopefully, ensuring you put yourselves over the top in terms of funding."

"And if we should be lucky enough to go over, we'll add one of those additional options we were discussing,"

"Spray cannons," Angel said gleefully, already imagining the fun the kids would have drenching one another. "Ohh, or even that splash pad version of the clown carnival game where you have to fill the clown with water before it will spin around and spray everywhere."

"Yes, that! We will add that if we bring in enough, but what are you thinking? A community carnival of some sort?" Bella asked.

"Now that's a good question for a guy who hadn't thought about anything along these lines in years," Dion admitted. "The bulk of my project planning has involved the publishing industry, usually for the launch of new books or emerging authors who want all the focus to be on them and their work. The corporation I worked for tended to prefer more streamlined events where there was less chance of missing an opportunity to flatter potential reviewers and those with ties to the movie industry."

"If this is to benefit the community, then shouldn't the benefit be all the way around?" Angel asked as he nibbled a raspberry-peach lemonade glazed donut, his absolute favorite out of all the amazing flavors Timon's Bakery had dreamed up.

Dion went from draining his drink to stroking his goatee, the three of them falling silent for a bit, though the problem at hand only occupied half of Angel's thoughts. The other half was filled with the memory of a strong arm locked across his midsection and the feel of Dion's erection brushing against his backside, leaving him extra thrilled to be spending the weekend sharing a bed with him. He could only image what it would feel like, hot and heavy in the moment, bodies slipping and sliding against one another as…

"Ohhhh shit…" Angel breathed as bright colors started forming an image in his head. "Slip n' slides!"

"Huh?" Bella murmured, head wiping back and forth like she expected to find one stretched out down the hall.

"What better way to raise money for a splash pad?" Angel replied.

"Okay, that can be the central theme, and you have a central location but how do we bring everyone in on it?" Dion asked.

"We make it a festival," Bella said.

"A slip n- slide festival," Angel said.

"You know we can dream up a better name than that," Bella replied.

"Of course, but for now that will get us started."

"Indeed," Dion said as he bit into a burst of orange marmalade filling at the center of his chocolate frosted donut and Angel saw his eyes light up. "Holy…whoa…that…dibs on the other one in the box!"

"You cannot call dibs on pastries, it's a house rule," Bella declared.

In an instant, it was like being transported onto a movie screen, those last, silent, tense moments before a showdown playing out as the camera switched from one angle to another, showing every perspective, right down to the finger twitch. Angel lunged, fingers closing around the prize before Dion could make a grab for it. Angel shot him a shit-eating grin and licked at the smudges of chocolate around his lips, hoping it served as a reminder of the raincheck Angel had given him the night before. While he'd have loved to get right to the skin on skin with the man he'd been drooling over for years, he'd been too tipsy, and tired, to follow through with all the teasing they'd done.

"You're a little menace," Dion declared, a forlorn look crossing his face. "And I will find a way to get even with you for that felonious act of donut theft."

"Does that mean you've got some cuffs stashed away in one of your bags so you can arrest me properly," Angel replied with all the cheekiness he could muster. "Or is it gonna be your belt looped around my wrists?"

Angel watched with perverse satisfaction as Dion burst out laughing just as he went to take a bite and ended up squirting marmalade on his nose. Laughter turned to sputtering, then laughter again as he finally wiped it away.

"I tell you two one thing," he began before wagging his finger at each of them. "If this is how all your planning sessions start, feel free to volunteer me to be the Lord of Lattes whenever you'd like my input."

Angel grinned, loving the way that sounded. "In that case, plan on collecting lattes for years and years to come."

"Years and years, huh?" Dion asked, looking thoughtful.

"Yup," Angel replied, nodding vehemently. "Years and years and years and years and years and…"

"Alright, alight, you win!" Dion said, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Angel just grinned and winked at him. "I know."