Confounded: Part II - 55. Chapter 55

CHAPTER 55 --==Taylan’s POV==--

At the last minute, I’d suggested that they might want to bring the car up the driveway themselves, the deep monster sound roaring as Dana drove it up, Roman and Alia in the backseat.

The giant neon-pink ribbon had been her idea. It looked both amazing and pretty flamboyant, laughing my ass off while filming it on my phone.

And then Tom. He just stood there, slack jawed. Wanna know what the kicker was? They DID bring pizzas! And beer!

Keeping in contact throughout the day, Dana had asked me if she could bring anything to make it a party. The only thing I could think of was pizzas, on such short notice. Pizzas and beer. In the meantime, we cooked up another idea; I would ‘ruin’ dinner, timing it with their coming home, then me texting her that now was the time to come screaming up the driveway with that beast.

It couldn’t have gone better.

Annoyed at the husband unit, yes I heard the ‘I’m sure takeout is on the way’ comment, and Kit’s ‘Oh no’ preceding it, I texted Dana to wait five minutes, then floor it and leave no gravel in the driveway. We have no gravel, so that’d be a challenge for her, no?

She did beautifully, honking that horn with noticeable pleasure, driving her son from his room. Wonderfully done!

Anyone wonder how to screw up a dish deliberately, by the way? In the oven so the windows even go black? Neither did I. I just cooked my usual recipe and turned up the heat to max. Seemed like a good idea at the time. They shouldn’t have come in half an hour earlier, though; they’d have come into a smoke-filled kitchen, and me on the phone with the security company that everything was a-okay. Good lord, those people are hard to convince, especially with an alarm blaring in the background.

“Maybe we should send a truck, just in case?”

“Noooooooooooo…..no, no, no, no…it’s fine, seriously. Just a little smoke, like having a good old card-game in the 80’s; y’know, drugs and drinks all 'round, sluts in the corner.”

“Sir? Do you need the police?”
Fuck!

“No! No, no police, that was just…a joke; leave it. It’s fine. Seriously. No need. Do not send a car. I already gave you the code. We’re fine.”

Okay, so I hadn’t really thought it through. But it worked, and that’s all that matters, right? Right. So when Dana got out, and his dad, and his sister, all of them going over to the trunk and getting the pizzas and beer out, Tom had no idea where to look. The car (he loved it, I could see that right off the bat), to his parents and sister coming over, carrying the food and drink, then to the car again and then to us, yelling Happy Birthday, then to his parents again and then finally, Alia, handing him the keys to the car and jumping up, making him catch her while hanging onto his neck. He stared at the car again.

“You guys…seriously?”

“Told ya I was gonna go car shopping. I went with your mom,” I yelled over. “She chose the color of the ribbon, by the way. That was SO not me.”
Even Kit chuckled at that one. And then aww….there the little asshole went, his face screwing up like it’d done when he saw his mom again, not that long ago.
“You like it?”

“I love it!” He returned, blinking rapidly, laughing.
I grinned at Dana, who sent me a thumbs up.

Then Roman walked up to him and wished him a happy belated birthday.

I don’t think he’d ever seen his son fly at him before, embracing him in a fierce hug.

**********

“No, Tay…”

“Why not?” I asked, offended, “I wanna drive that monster. We got it for him, it’s only right we get to drive it, too! Right Dana?”

“Right!”

“No!” It came from three sides.

“C’mon Uncle T. We’ll go together!” Tom joined in, jangling the keys. I pointed at him, sending a triumphant grin to Mitchell.

“See? He wants me to do it.”

“I think he means he’ll drive.”

“Nope,” Tom snickered, “he gets to drive. And Mom too. They chose it for me. They can drive it, anytime.”

“Tom!”

“What! My car!”
Ha! Truth.

“Hon?” Mitchell spoke up, “you had too much to drink. You can’t.”

“So? Okay, fine. He can drive but I can still come along! I wanna feel the power in my ass. Between my legs, I mean! Legs!”
Kit sprayed his beer, wiping his chin.

“It’s not a horse, hon.”

“Or a rocket,” Kit hiccupped.

“I don’t care! C’mon! Let’s go!”
I had a friend in Dana, also trying to get up from the couch, and failing. We helped each other up, by grabbing at each other’s hands, missing, trying again. Second time it worked.

“Oh god,” Kit groaned, “this is not going to end well.”

“I didn’t drink,” Tom snickered, “I planned on a drive tonight, when I saw that thing. No way I was drinking! I wanna drive my car! Let’s go!”

“Good man,” Roman commented, putting up a thumb. “Go for it! Enjoy!”

“Alright, I’m coming too!” Kit joined in, getting up.
Mitchell, finding himself all alone all of a sudden, threw up his hands.

“Fine. Just…be careful!”
I threw an arm around Dana’s shoulders.

“You want to feel the power between your legs, hon?”

“God, it’s been years,” she responded.

“Let’s goooooooo!”

“Hey!” Roman yelled.

“Not a horse!” Mitchell yelled in turn.
Sheesh…

Heard ya the first time!

**********

The car accelerated like a monster. It even felt like it, the hum of a pleasant drum underneath me. See? I told him I wanted to feel the power in my ass. Legs! Legs….

“Nice, huh?” I commented, rolling my head toward Dana, sitting beside me in the backseat.

“Oh yeah,” she responded dreamily. “Wonderful. Like a stuck escalator, trying to get up; that jarring feel? I love that.”

“Don’t enjoy it too much,” I snickered, “they’ll have to pry you off the backseat.”

“Mom!” Tom yelled, sounding embarrassed. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Kit cracked up.

“Oh come on, enjoy life a little, dude,” I grinned, enjoying the buzz I had going. Securely fastened in our seats, nothing would happen. We didn’t bring any drinks, just riding the coattails of our rather fun evening! We’d already agreed they’d all stay over, hence Roman indulging as well in alcoholic fun. As had Mitchell, with his wine. The only one not allowed had been Alia, and she had turned in half an hour before we decided to go on this fun ride.

“What honey…what…?”

“I don’t need to hear about your…joys.”

“What? What’s he talking about?” She gasped, looking at me.

“Escalator-fun,” I replied. “Hey, kid! Show some respect, man. Your Mom is still a person and a strong black woman, and she has needs. If she gets em from the Mall escalator, good on her!”

“Thanks! Actually, it's the metro,” she said, holding up a finger to correct me. “You know the station close to us? It has one that gets stuck all the time.”

“Nice!”

“MOM!” This time, both Kit and Tom yelled that.

“What!” We both yelled back. We both looked at each other then and roared laughing. Too funny! “Kit,” I said, “you yelled ‘mom’ at me.”

“Might as well be; you’re the closest thing I have.”

“Awww…that’s so sweet. Isn’t that sweet?” I asked Dana, who nodded in agreement. God, she was schnockered. “Hon,” I told Kit, “I want you to know; your dad and I? We tried many times. Many, many, many times. But no dice. No bro or sis.”
Besides me, Dana hooted into laughter again. Even Kit joined in.

“You're nuts,” Tom spoke up, shaking his head.

“Oh stop it,” I said. “What if you could, huh? Imagine, for a second, that you could. Would you have a kid?”

“Several,” he responded, after a while. Beside him, Kit nodded as well.

“At least four.”

“Two,” Tom grinned, “boy and girl.”

“Boys,” Kit responded, glancing at him.

“Fine, two boys.”
I winked at Dana. She put a finger to her lips.

“Four.”

“And who sits at home with em?” Tom chuckled, addressing Kit.

“I will, if you won’t.”

“And have you turn em against me? Fuck off. 50/50.”
Ha! This was kinda fun to watch. And he received a slap on the back of the head for that F-bomb.

“Now what if you fight? Big fight. Huge! Nuclear! We’re talking divorce. What happens then? Who gets the kids?”

“We make up,” Kit immediately said.

“Depends…” was Tom’s response.
Oh nuts.

Even in a befuddled state, I knew this wasn’t a good response. For Kit, anyway. Trying to get my brain working, I just began talking, seeing Kit already frown at his reply.

“Picture this,” I said, “Sicily, 1947…”

“You are not Sophia from the Golden Girls, Tay…”

“Fine; Los Angeles, 2009. A young man, in the prime of his life, rushed to the hospital in a matter of life and death…”

“You had your appendix out!” Kit groaned.

I ignored it. “Right behind, the love of his life, rushing along the highway without regard for his own peril. Stop-signs; ignored. Speed limits; broken. Tears were streaming in his eyes, misting his view; old people scattering everywhere as the hospital rose into view on top of the hill…he took a piece of the curb as they stopped at the ER exit, skid marks on the pavement, the smell of burned rubber in the air…”

“Probably had hot porn and the prophylactic not replaced,” Tom mumbled.

“Silence, child, I’m in the middle of a dramatization that might very well be coming true. Listen and learn.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“Where was I, grasshopper?”

“Burned rubber.”

“Ah yes; just as the young man was rushed into hospital, the lover arrived, but it was too late…he had already disappeared behind doors of the operating theater. No more goodbyes, no more ‘I love you’s’…he might lose him, and he never got to say goodbye. Their last words had been heated, still ringing in his ears. Oh! Oh! I’m gonna kill you if you don’t do it right now!”
I blinked and then glanced at Tom.

“That young man was me. The lover, as you might have guessed: Mitchell. Now imagine you being me, and Kit being Mitchell…you don’t want the last he hears to be the squeal of your tires as you speed out of the gate, and a hateful remark as a parting shot to remember you by, now do ya?”

“You’re nuts,” he said, tapping his forehead. “Certified.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; but you think about that one.”

“He’s right, y’know,” Kit commented, after quite a long while of silence, “you should always listen to the other. Listen. You might not agree, but listen. And you can never use kids as a shield. You get 'em together so that shield? It’s half-broken straight off anyway. If you try, you’re poisoning them to the other parent, which says that much more about you. It’s a dumb idea; you lose every time. So you should try to work it out. Always try and never part in anger. If you really can’t live with someone’s opinion, discuss it. If you can’t live with that…wow, it's just an opinion. To each his own. An opinion is never stronger than a life you created and children should outlive you anyway, so the exercise is pointless. It’s just you trying to win. No one wins.”
Tom seemed to contemplate that for a while. Then he nodded.

“No argument there.”
Now how did I get a kid to become a guy as bright as that? A man, even? I’d never be able to repeat that but that made sense to me. And beside me?

Dana was snoring the night away.