9. Jay
Jay
My thumbs press mindlessly on the remote, looking for something to watch after growing bored with the rerun I’d already seen three times.
My cock twitches in my pants as a vision of the mystery woman from the lobby reappears in my thoughts.
I’m just about to switch over and purchase some porn to relieve myself, when there’s a knock at the door.
Standing up from the bed, my feet sink into the carpet as I make my way across the room to open it.
“About time you showed up,” I say, seeing my brother standing on the otherside. “What the fuck took you so long?”
Eli exhales heavily and steps inside. “I had to try on three tuxes,” he says, holding up the garment bags as evidence of his statement. “Thanks, by the way. You’re here; you could’ve came and helped me.”
I reach out and take the bags from him. “Well, you did draw the short straw. Besides, you got out easy, brother. You didn’t have to run into Dad and the new step-bitch like I did!”
“Ha. Very funny. Somehow I still think you got the better end of the deal. You didn’t have someone sticking pins in you every second as he sized the suits.” He mocks, his hand going to his crotch. “I might not ever be able to have children. I swear the fucker stuck me on purpose.”
“Oh, how will we live without a little Eli running around terrorizing everyone.” I laugh.
He holds up a bag of takeout. “And, I still had time to bring us food. Something tells me you didn’t bother to do it. And after being an insensitive dick about my ability to procreate, you don’t get any.”
That gets my attention as he waves the takeout bag, inhaling the amazing smell wafting from it. “Now you’re speaking my language. Food. And your assumption would be correct. I did not get any. I was just thinking of jacking off, actually.”
Eli mocks gagging before smiling and crossing the room, setting the bag down on the small table.
“Zeke got the best end of the whole thing. All he had to do was finalize the house.” I step over to the closet and hang up the garment bags.
The petty part of me wants to take the suits out and wrinkle the fuck out of them just to piss the bitch stepmother off.
But then I’d have the wrath of Dad to deal with.
He grins, the same stupid grin he’s had since we were kids getting away with shit we definitely shouldn’t have. “Seriously? That’s the story you’re sticking to? That you had the worst end of the deal. The man who’s been sitting here doing absolutely nothing.”
“Hey, I’ve been busy,” I shoot back. “Important work. Channel evaluation. Bed review. People want to know that when they stay here it’s going to be comfortable.”
“Uh-huh.” He drags the phrase out slowly as he sits down at the table and starts unpacking the bag. Subs. My favorite. Next is a couple bags of chips, cheddar and sour cream. My stomach growls and it dawns on me that with everything going on I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
I move over to the bed and pick up the remote, lowering the volume. Stepping over to the mini fridge, I take out two beers, then sit down at the table with Eli.
“So,” he says, glancing at me as he places one of the sandwiches and a bag of chips in front of me, “tell me about the new step-bitch.”
I snort, already unwrapping my sub. “For one, I already know she’s a gold digger.”
Eli raises a brow. “You met her once. How could you possibly know that?”
“Didn’t need more than that.” I take a bite, chew, then swallow.
“You should’ve seen the rock on her finger.
That thing could signal satellites. Dad had to pay a pretty penny for it.
” I let out a whistle as I pretend to show him a ring on my finger.
“Let’s just say it put Mom’s diamond ring to shame. ”
Eli lets out a groan as he picks up his beer, popping it open with a quick flick. “Man,” he says, taking a long sip, “What the fuck has gotten into Dad?”
“Midlife crisis,” I interject between bites. “Or late-life, honestly. I don’t even know anymore. I’m happy he’s finally moving on. I just thought it would be with someone more like Mom. Not the woman I met today.”
“So what’s the plan?” he asks. “Are we pulling him aside? Asking if she’s got him under some kind of voodoo spell?”
I huff a laugh, cracking open my beer. “You’re saying that like a joke, but I’m not ruling it out.”
“I’m serious,” Eli says, though there’s a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Because this feels fast. Like, weird fast. He just met her. Hell, we’re just meeting her and her daughter for the first time at their wedding.”
“I bet that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree either.”
Eli shakes his head, taking another bite of his sub. “That’s what I’m saying. Something’s off. I mean she’s old like Dad; she can’t be pregnant, so what’s the rush?”
I lean back in the chair, resting my hands on the table. “I mean, best-case scenario? He’s just lonely, she’s convenient, and this all crashes and burns before the wedding happens. I mean we could find someone to turn his head, make him rethink the wedding.”
“And worst-case?” he asks.
I glance at him and let out a sigh. “She drains him dry, takes everything, and we’re left splitting whatever’s left of his bad decisions when he passes away. Or taking him in as our new roommate when he can’t pay his bills.”
Eli lets out a long breath. “Damn. You really went there. The big D.”
“Tell me I’m wrong and that you’re not thinking the same thing. I bet Zeke is, too .”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just chews the food in his mouth, his forehead wrinkling as he thinks. “You’re not wrong.”
We sit in that for a second, the muted TV flickering in the background, the room filled with the sound of wrappers crinkling and the occasional clink of bottles.
“So,” he says finally, “we talk to Dad.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. We talk to him. Get him to see reason.”
“Together,” Eli adds. “The three of us. A united front. So he can’t just brush it off.”
“Good call.” I nod.
He lifts his beer toward me. “To confronting Dad about his questionable life choices.”
I tap my bottle against his. “To hoping he sees the light and pulls away from the dark side.”
“A Star Wars reference, really?”
I just shrug my shoulders and take another swallow of my beer. Eli follows suit and we both finish off what's left in our bottles. It almost feels normal, the two of us hanging out, talking shit. But it’s not. Because we both know that once we talk to Dad, he could end up hating the both of us.
Let’s just hope that’s not the case.