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- 12/17/2010
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The House Always Wins - 16. Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
Yo, diary,
Sorry, but I feel the need to change the greeting. The chick factor was way too high when I use ‘dear'.
Michael's being weird, the last few days. I dunno... ever since that evening on the sofa, three days ago, I feel like he's been watching me. A few times I've looked his direction, and he either quickly looks away, or just grins. It's like he's on some sort of XTC pills, I think they're called Tony Blairs - they make you grin like a Cheshire cat.
And last night? He came up early, again, and watched TV. It almost felt like a Friday night with the ‘rents. Snacks on the table, drinks; the only difference was that my step-dad never had an arm around me, or pressed his nose in the crook of my neck occasionally, like Michael did. Somehow I don't think I'd accept it from my step-dad either, lol!
Olivia seemed surprised that he'd come up, too, and even more surprised when he changed into casual clothes, although she only smiled when he asked her if something was wrong, and shook her head.
He drank a few beers and I tried one of those Guinness things he was having. Eww, those are gross. I asked for a Heineken, letting him finish the rest of that awful stuff, and I must say that I had fun. After we had watched the ‘Bernie Mac Show' and ‘That 70's Show,' a discussion started between Olivia and Michael about the 70's, an era I have no knowledge of. He did remember some of the stunts he'd done, even though he'd only been six or seven at the time. As Olivia explained it, he'd been a downright brat. Some of her memories had me laughing my ass off, while Michael snorted uncomfortably. That was great, by the way, seeing him uncomfortable for a change.
It was probably the beer that got to me - I had two - because I remember dozing off, but I don't remember going to bed, where I woke up this morning. When I asked him about it an hour ago, he told me he had brought me to bed because I'd fallen asleep.
"Thanks for that, by the way," he said, but he grinned so I guess he didn't mean it seriously, "I didn't know I was such boring company."
He isn't. I just don't get along with alcoholic beverages very well...
**********
I don't think I've ever had so much fun as I had the next morning; I introduced a sixty-six year old lady to the world of X-box auto racing. Well, introduced...
It was 11:30 in the morning when Olivia joined me on the sofa, having brought a magazine along to flick through. As for me, I was on a coffee binge, and maybe a bit high strung, playing the game since I'd gotten out of bed, not even bothering to change; I like to take my time, okay?
Anyway, I won a few times, whooping out loud, which elicited a few annoyed glances from her, and lost too many times, eliciting admonishments from her. Alright, so you don't say "crap, shitfaced motherf..." in front of an older lady; my mistake.
At long last, though, she almost threw her magazine on the table when she'd had enough of my cussing.
"Hand it over, young one."
"Huh?"
What, was she going to take my privileges away or something? I protectively clutched the controller.
"I'll show you how to drive."
"Yeah, sure," I snickered, "this coming from someone who's native country teaches them to drive on the wrong side of the road?"
"There is no wrong or right in driving," she retorted, "only skill and insight."
"You think you can beat me?"
"No. I know I can. You take the curves too tight and you change gears too quickly."
Ooookay...
I set up the other controller, and gave it to her. The next five minutes she achieved a new level of respect from me; the woman was lethal in the driving department. She even exclaimed an excited ‘gotcha!' when she passed the finish line, well ahead of her computer opponent.
"Ohohoooh... you're definitely out-racing me now," I said quasi-grumpy, setting up a new game. "There's no way an old chick is beating me at this."
The minute I said it I blushed and uttered an apology. Less coffee, JJ, way less.
"There's no way a child outraces this old chick," she said, mimicking my accent. "What is it you kids say these days: bring it on?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. Hah!
An hour later she'd beaten me six times in a row. I mean, what the fuck!
We were racing the final lap of a seventh game when Michael arrived, quietly placing his hands on the back of the sofa behind us so as to not disturb us. Then he started to laugh, softly at first but then louder, when he realized I was losing the race - AGAIN!
"Mother, did you tell him you spend half of your time, when you're here, in the racing booth of the Children's Arcade downstairs, when no one is looking?"
Ooh, that vile, conniving...I threw the controller on the floor, semi-disgusted, and sent her an insulted look when she grinned, making her look ten years younger.
"No, of course not. And thank you, Michael; you've revealed my secret."
"Oops," he replied, leaning down on his elbows. He turned his eyes on me and winked. "How many times did she beat you?
"Four."
"SEVEN!" Olivia exclaimed, slapping my hand.
"Ouch," Michael said, wincing in sympathy. "Couldn't you let him win even once?"
"Absolutely not. It's a matter of pride. No one calls me an old chick. You need to discipline that boyfriend of yours."
At that he raised an eyebrow at me, and I bit my lower lip guiltily.
"Heat of the moment kinda thing," I said, with a weak grin.
"Hmmm... " He looked at his mother and winked. "I'll discipline him tonight."
Oh sure...
"For now, though; why aren't you two ready? And haven't you showered yet?"
I glanced at the clock as he frowned at my attire, a pair of thin workout pants and an oversized t-shirt. Oops again.
"Forgot the time. Gimme ten minutes."
I started to get up, but Michael shook his head.
"Forget it; I'll have something brought up instead. But at least take a shower; the way you look, a dog would bark himself to death at you."
"Wow, thanks. That's a compliment if I've ever heard one," I replied wryly, "and you can forget about that discipline tonight."
Olivia started to snicker softly when Michael's hand contacted with the back of my head, and not all that softly.
"Don't be so cheeky. And I'll hold you to those ten minutes."
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22
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13
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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