Wyatt's Visit

"Nephew, from this moment forward, call yourself Vincent Corleone."

- Michael transferring power to Vincent Mancini.

Godfather III

  I have been blessed with 11 nephews, nine nieces, and one great nephew named Wyatt, who is 15. With 20 cousins in the mix, Wyatt blends right in. But one Friday evening, Wyatt changed that.

            Our three kids were out, and after dinner Brian and I shopped for shoes. In the middle of Macy’s, my cell rang.

            “Hi Aunt Annemarie. This is Wyatt. Can I bring my girlfriend Kelli over to see Vito?”

            I said sure, but I wanted to give him an out because his cousins weren’t home. I didn’t want him to be bummed out because it was just Brian and I.

 “None of the kids are home. Christina will be back Sunday afternoon if you would rather come then.”

            “We want to come now.”

            “Oh … Okay … sure. Are you sure? It’ll just be Uncle Brian and me. No kids.”

            “That’s fine,” he said. “Call us when you get home.”

            An hour later, I called from our driveway.

            “We’re home,” I said. “Is your mom coming?”

            “Nope. She’s out,” he said. “It’s just me and Kelli. We’re on our way.”

            After a full day of work plus the shopping, Brian and I felt 400 years old. At that time of night we’re about as exciting as a warm glass of skim milk.

            At 9:30 p.m., we weren’t the fun aunt and uncle Wyatt sees under the cloak of a family gathering. Wyatt would discover that we were really two old people who passed out in the middle of  “Medium” on Friday nights. Even Vito was half-dead from the day.

            As I fought TV-induced sleep, a rigorous series of knocks pounded from the front door. Wyatt sprang inside the hallway before I got the door fully opened. He hugged me hard and introduced me to Kelli, a pretty 16-year-old who did the driving. They both smiled so easily, like it was 9:30 in the morning.

            Vito, too, sprang to life and was ready to perform. He led Wyatt and Kelli to the family room, where Kelli scooped him into her lap. Vito was a complete gentleman. No biting, squeaking, or crazy jumping.

            Kelli was so obviously good with Vito that I had to ask if she planned to become a veterinarian. She said she did, and she began to tell us about her own dog, a Golden Retriever named Ginger.

She told us she liked her school, but there was an awful lot of drama there at the moment. I told her the tenth grade was the same everywhere. She said that while I may think that, there was probably a little more at her school.

Wyatt talked about how his classmates got a day off after his school won the big hockey game.

We talked about serious stuff, too, like how Wyatt has been to too many funerals lately. The parents of two friends died, one right on Wyatt’s birthday.

 With such a good conversation going, I thought Brian was going to offer Wyatt a beer.

Too soon, they said they had to leave because Kelli had a curfew. A real one, she said, that her mother enforced. We all hugged good night, and we told Kelli that she should move in with us because she cast such a wonderful spell over Vito. We told her she would make a great vet one day.

Before I put Vito to bed, I thanked him. Who would have thought that one little puppy could bring Wyatt and I so close on an everyday Friday evening?

 I felt so warm and fuzzy that I stayed awake all the way to the end of the 11 o’clock news.