...But what could he do, anyway? He couldn't dissuade his dad from working if he wanted to work, not ever. Granted, he had never tried before, but it was always clear to see how serious of a work ethic Tanner had. Hell, his mother and sister weren't even trying to dissuade him, he was that dedicated! If he tried to talk him out of it, Brandon would just make a fool of himself and waste everyone's time. No, his dad was going to work whether he liked it or not.
But something still had to be done. Anything. This was his fault, so he had to take responsibility somehow.
Hmm...
...Come to think of it, what was his old man going to wear tomorrow? Nothing in his closet would fit anymore! Even the roomiest of his suits wouldn't cut it, not with how big he was now! Brandon cringed at the guilt of what he did, realizing that even its weight upon his conscience was dwarfed by the weight of three unborn children squirming inside his father's stomach. Womb. Whatever, it was weird and it was real and he needed to speak up before it was too late.
"Hey Dad?"
Tanner swallowed the last of the spaghetti, reached around his belly to get the knapkin, wiped his lips clean of the sauce, and shot up his eyebrows at Brandon to show he was listening. He kept eye contact with Brandon as he went for the bread basket.
How to phrase this? Perhaps...he had to put on some pressure without sounding condescending. "You're going to get a new suit before heading off to work tomorrow, right?"
Tanner stalled in the middle of chewing a piece of toasted French bread and went bug-eyed. His mom did the same, looking ready to kick herself. But his dad made to finish the bread and swallow, still focused on feeding the babies in his swollen and growing belly. He had to be careful, though, or his pregnancy-fattened backside would fatten even more and keep him from getting out of the average-sized chair!
"Y-Yes, of course. I'll stop by the, ah..." Tanner looked as if he were trying not to smell something nasty, he was grimacing so intently. "...to the Big and Tall shop after I'm done here. They should have something ready for me tomorrow morning."
"...Really?", asked Sarah and Ashley in unison. They all knew how he felt about establishments that singled out clothing based on size. Well, when men were singled out: he didn't say anything for plus-sized companies whenever the subject came up. Not that he had an opinion, but that he neglected to form one. Brandon was distracting himself while his dad was finding his words. It seemed like he was rubbing near his bellybutton for inspiration. Like Buddha, but heavily pregnant and without a fraction of the wisdom. Probably older than Buddha, too, but that was neither here nor there.
"I don't really have a choice, do I? Nope! Not a one!" He hastily shoved another piece of toast in his mouth and chewed with unnecessary vigor. His mom saw his reaction and went to get him another bowl of spaghetti to calm him down, which he would doubtlessly inhale with the rest. The man was not happy. Well, that was what he got for being stubborn!
Brandon finally went back to his dinner before he started getting looks. It was done! Phew! This wasn't much, but it did open some new possibilities. More time spent pondering if going to work was a good decision, for one. But Brandon's hard-working dad was true to his reputation, struggling to make it work even with this "new" time constraint. Perhaps some persuasion was in order...but then again, Tanner wasn't stupid and would see sense after enough thought. But would he even think about staying home instead of squeezing that hill of a baby belly into a suit and lugging it into a room of judgmental stockholders and suppliers? Or whoever it was went to these big, important meetings of his?
What to do, Brandon, you turkey?
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