Tangled
Page 29
“Hey, sweetie, look who’s here!” She hops off the seesaw and flings herself into Matthew’s open arms.
Before you ask, the answer is no—when she is older, my little darling will never hook up with a guy like me. She’ll be too smart for that. I’ll make sure of it. Guess that makes me a hypocrite, huh? That’s okay. I can live with that.
Matthew puts Mackenzie down and walks over. “Hey, man.”
“What’s up?”
“You go out early last night?” he asks me. “You never came back to the party.”
I shrug. “My head wasn’t in it. I hit the gym and went to bed.”
The truth is I spent three hours pounding the hell out of the punching bag, imagining all the while that it was Billy Warren’s face.
“You hung out with that Delores chick?”
He nods. “Her, Kate, and Billy.”
I shake my head. “That guy licks ass.”
Mackenzie walks over to us and holds up a glass jar half-filled with dollar bills. I slide a dollar into it.
“He’s not so bad.”
“Idiots annoy me.”
Mackenzie holds up the jar again, and in goes another dollar.
The jar?
It was invented by my sister, who apparently thinks my language is too harsh for her offspring. It’s the Bad Word Jar. Every time someone—usually me—swears, they have to pay a dollar. At this rate, that thing is going to put Mackenzie through college.
“So what’s the deal with you and Delores?”
He smiles. “We’re hanging out. She’s cool.”
Usually Matthew is more forthcoming with the details. It’s not like I get off on his stories, but you have to understand, Matthew and I have been friends since birth. That means every kiss, every breast, every hand job, blow job, pearl necklace, and lay has been shared and discussed.
And now he’s stonewalling me. What’s up with that?
“I’m assuming you’ve nailed her?”
He frowns. “It’s not like that, Drew.”
I’m confused. “Then what’s it like, Matthew? You haven’t hung out in over two weeks. I can understand you being too pu**y-whipped to come out if you’re getting some. But if not, what’s the deal?”
He smiles in a nostalgic, remembering-a-happy-moment kind of way. “She’s just…different. It’s hard to explain. We talk, you know? And I’m always kind of thinking about her. It’s like the minute I drop her off, I can’t wait to see her again. She just…amazes me. I wish you knew what I meant.”
And the scary thing is—I know exactly what he means.
“You’re in dangerous territory, man. You see what Steven goes through. This path leads to the Dark Side. We always said we wouldn’t go there. You sure about this?”
Matthew smiles, and in his best Darth Vader voice tells me, “You don’t know the power of the Dark Side.”
It’s dinnertime. My mother makes a big show of bringing out the turkey, and everyone oohs and ahhs before my father carves it up. That’s right—Norman f**king Rockwell’s got nothing on us.
As bowls are passed and plates are filled, my mom says, “Drew, honey, I’m going to pack you up a big bag of leftovers. I don’t even want to think about how you’re eating in that apartment with no one to cook a decent meal. And I’ll put dates on the containers so you’ll know when to throw it out. The last time I looked in your refrigerator, it was like some sort of science experiment was growing in there.”
Yes—my mommy loves me. Told you so.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Matthew and Steven make loud, wet kissy noises at me. With both hands, I flip each of them the bird. Beside me I see Mackenzie looking at her fingers trying to copy the move. I quickly put my hand over hers and shake my head. I show her Mr. Spock’s Vulcan salute instead.
After we say grace, I announce, “I think Mackenzie should come live with me.”
No one reacts. No one looks up. No one pauses. I’ve made this suggestion several times since my niece was born.
Alexandra says, “The turkey’s delicious, Mom. Very juicy.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Hello? I’m serious here. She needs a positive female role model.”
That gets The Bitch’s attention. “What the hell am I?”
Mackenzie slides the jar toward her mother, and in goes a dollar. We all bring small bills to the table on holidays now.
“You’re a stay-at-home mom. Which is very commendable, don’t get me wrong. But she should be exposed to career women too. And for God’s sake, don’t let her watch Cinderella. What kind of example is that? A mindless twit who can’t even remember where she left her damn shoe, so she has to wait for some douchebag in tights to bring it to her? Give me a frigging break.”
I’m not sure how much I owe after that little speech. I pass Mackenzie a ten. Did I say that jar would put her through college? I meant law school. I’m going to need to hit an ATM soon.
Steven joins in. “I think Alexandra is the perfect role model for our daughter. There’s no one better.”
Steven is a beaten man. And Matthew wants to join his club.
Unreal.
Alexandra smiles at him. “Thank you, honey.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Matthew and I start coughing, “Whipped…brown nose.”
Mackenzie looks at us suspiciously, unsure if we need to pay up or not.
Before you ask, the answer is no—when she is older, my little darling will never hook up with a guy like me. She’ll be too smart for that. I’ll make sure of it. Guess that makes me a hypocrite, huh? That’s okay. I can live with that.
Matthew puts Mackenzie down and walks over. “Hey, man.”
“What’s up?”
“You go out early last night?” he asks me. “You never came back to the party.”
I shrug. “My head wasn’t in it. I hit the gym and went to bed.”
The truth is I spent three hours pounding the hell out of the punching bag, imagining all the while that it was Billy Warren’s face.
“You hung out with that Delores chick?”
He nods. “Her, Kate, and Billy.”
I shake my head. “That guy licks ass.”
Mackenzie walks over to us and holds up a glass jar half-filled with dollar bills. I slide a dollar into it.
“He’s not so bad.”
“Idiots annoy me.”
Mackenzie holds up the jar again, and in goes another dollar.
The jar?
It was invented by my sister, who apparently thinks my language is too harsh for her offspring. It’s the Bad Word Jar. Every time someone—usually me—swears, they have to pay a dollar. At this rate, that thing is going to put Mackenzie through college.
“So what’s the deal with you and Delores?”
He smiles. “We’re hanging out. She’s cool.”
Usually Matthew is more forthcoming with the details. It’s not like I get off on his stories, but you have to understand, Matthew and I have been friends since birth. That means every kiss, every breast, every hand job, blow job, pearl necklace, and lay has been shared and discussed.
And now he’s stonewalling me. What’s up with that?
“I’m assuming you’ve nailed her?”
He frowns. “It’s not like that, Drew.”
I’m confused. “Then what’s it like, Matthew? You haven’t hung out in over two weeks. I can understand you being too pu**y-whipped to come out if you’re getting some. But if not, what’s the deal?”
He smiles in a nostalgic, remembering-a-happy-moment kind of way. “She’s just…different. It’s hard to explain. We talk, you know? And I’m always kind of thinking about her. It’s like the minute I drop her off, I can’t wait to see her again. She just…amazes me. I wish you knew what I meant.”
And the scary thing is—I know exactly what he means.
“You’re in dangerous territory, man. You see what Steven goes through. This path leads to the Dark Side. We always said we wouldn’t go there. You sure about this?”
Matthew smiles, and in his best Darth Vader voice tells me, “You don’t know the power of the Dark Side.”
It’s dinnertime. My mother makes a big show of bringing out the turkey, and everyone oohs and ahhs before my father carves it up. That’s right—Norman f**king Rockwell’s got nothing on us.
As bowls are passed and plates are filled, my mom says, “Drew, honey, I’m going to pack you up a big bag of leftovers. I don’t even want to think about how you’re eating in that apartment with no one to cook a decent meal. And I’ll put dates on the containers so you’ll know when to throw it out. The last time I looked in your refrigerator, it was like some sort of science experiment was growing in there.”
Yes—my mommy loves me. Told you so.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Matthew and Steven make loud, wet kissy noises at me. With both hands, I flip each of them the bird. Beside me I see Mackenzie looking at her fingers trying to copy the move. I quickly put my hand over hers and shake my head. I show her Mr. Spock’s Vulcan salute instead.
After we say grace, I announce, “I think Mackenzie should come live with me.”
No one reacts. No one looks up. No one pauses. I’ve made this suggestion several times since my niece was born.
Alexandra says, “The turkey’s delicious, Mom. Very juicy.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Hello? I’m serious here. She needs a positive female role model.”
That gets The Bitch’s attention. “What the hell am I?”
Mackenzie slides the jar toward her mother, and in goes a dollar. We all bring small bills to the table on holidays now.
“You’re a stay-at-home mom. Which is very commendable, don’t get me wrong. But she should be exposed to career women too. And for God’s sake, don’t let her watch Cinderella. What kind of example is that? A mindless twit who can’t even remember where she left her damn shoe, so she has to wait for some douchebag in tights to bring it to her? Give me a frigging break.”
I’m not sure how much I owe after that little speech. I pass Mackenzie a ten. Did I say that jar would put her through college? I meant law school. I’m going to need to hit an ATM soon.
Steven joins in. “I think Alexandra is the perfect role model for our daughter. There’s no one better.”
Steven is a beaten man. And Matthew wants to join his club.
Unreal.
Alexandra smiles at him. “Thank you, honey.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Matthew and I start coughing, “Whipped…brown nose.”
Mackenzie looks at us suspiciously, unsure if we need to pay up or not.
