She dismissed me and turned back to the others. “Come on in and get something to eat and drink. Lizzy.” Aunt Carma took Grandma's hand and patted it several times. “Let's go find your brother and get a glass of champagne. You're starting to look a little sober."
Uncle Chester leaned over and whispered in my ear, “She is starting to look a little gloomy."
"That's somber , but Grandma is starting to look sober so I think Aunt Carma said the right thing.” Did this man even own a dictionary?
"You have nooooooo idea what you're talking about, do you, Avery?"
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4
The four of them disappeared into the house. I didn't follow at first because I wasn't sure if it was safe to or not. This was really starting to piss me off! I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to walk in and see a large demon with hooves for feet, two horns, a long pointed tail and pitchfork serving hors d’ oeuvres. This wasn't a vacation as much as it was a damned identity crisis.
I took a deep breath and opened the front door. The main room was mostly empty, but the kitchen just off to the left was a hustle and bustle of activity. Staff from the catering company ran in and out of the house and downstairs for more supplies, back upstairs and then back outside again, refreshing glasses and replacing empty food trays with new little delicacies. These people were definitely earning their money. I moved farther inside.
"Excuse me, sir.” A waiter had come up behind me and was anxiously trying to get past where I stood blocking the doorway between the hall and kitchen. The way he'd uttered the word sir had me wondering if he was rushed or merely annoyed that I was in his way.
"Sorry,” I apologized goodnaturedly, and stepped aside. “I didn't mean to get in the way. I was just looking around the house. It isn't very often I get out to California to see my relatives or where they live."
"Tourists.” He rolled his eyes, snorted, shook his head and started past me.
"Oh, I'm a tourist.” I spoke a little too loudly. “Guess that means you don't have to be polite. Why don't I just stand here and block the way again? Then, when you come back, you can just plow me right over. Hell!” I threw up my hands. “If you get up enough speed, you can knock me back to Michigan and save me the price of a return ticket ... dick."
That got his attention.
"What is your problem?” He whirled around and faced me. “You obviously have one if you feel the need to call me a dick."
At first, I thought he was going to lighten up and apologize, aware of how rude he'd just been, but then he stared at me as if expecting an answer. It caught me completely off-guard.
"Do you feel that insecure in your masculinity you have to resort to name-calling?"
"Uh ... well...” Hey! He'd started this. I'd been nice about moving out of his way, and he had to go and make some snide remark about me being a tourist. “Of course I'm secure! And as for my masculinity..."
Here was where I was supposed to dazzle him by saying something brilliant, something manly, but what? What the hell did I know that was brilliant or even remotely impressive? The only thing I could remember from chemistry is that 6.02 multiplied by ten to the twenty-third power equals one mole. That left manly, and the only thing I could think of in that respect was sports, which wasn't saying much at all. Teams! Think teams. This was California.
"Say, how about those Miami...” Oh, shit. I hoped my face didn't mirror the stupidity and blankness of my mind. Miami wasn't in California. To make matters worse, the Miami what? It was a fish, wasn't it? “...Mammals?"
"Miami Mammals?” Now came the look that told me I had to be the biggest moron in the world. How ironic that I should actually feel that way, too.
"Porpoises?” I asked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “Well, they're not whales...” I motioned toward my back and waved my hand. “They're the things with
Uncle Chester leaned over and whispered in my ear, “She is starting to look a little gloomy."
"That's somber , but Grandma is starting to look sober so I think Aunt Carma said the right thing.” Did this man even own a dictionary?
"You have nooooooo idea what you're talking about, do you, Avery?"
[Back to Table of Contents]
4
The four of them disappeared into the house. I didn't follow at first because I wasn't sure if it was safe to or not. This was really starting to piss me off! I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to walk in and see a large demon with hooves for feet, two horns, a long pointed tail and pitchfork serving hors d’ oeuvres. This wasn't a vacation as much as it was a damned identity crisis.
I took a deep breath and opened the front door. The main room was mostly empty, but the kitchen just off to the left was a hustle and bustle of activity. Staff from the catering company ran in and out of the house and downstairs for more supplies, back upstairs and then back outside again, refreshing glasses and replacing empty food trays with new little delicacies. These people were definitely earning their money. I moved farther inside.
"Excuse me, sir.” A waiter had come up behind me and was anxiously trying to get past where I stood blocking the doorway between the hall and kitchen. The way he'd uttered the word sir had me wondering if he was rushed or merely annoyed that I was in his way.
"Sorry,” I apologized goodnaturedly, and stepped aside. “I didn't mean to get in the way. I was just looking around the house. It isn't very often I get out to California to see my relatives or where they live."
"Tourists.” He rolled his eyes, snorted, shook his head and started past me.
"Oh, I'm a tourist.” I spoke a little too loudly. “Guess that means you don't have to be polite. Why don't I just stand here and block the way again? Then, when you come back, you can just plow me right over. Hell!” I threw up my hands. “If you get up enough speed, you can knock me back to Michigan and save me the price of a return ticket ... dick."
That got his attention.
"What is your problem?” He whirled around and faced me. “You obviously have one if you feel the need to call me a dick."
At first, I thought he was going to lighten up and apologize, aware of how rude he'd just been, but then he stared at me as if expecting an answer. It caught me completely off-guard.
"Do you feel that insecure in your masculinity you have to resort to name-calling?"
"Uh ... well...” Hey! He'd started this. I'd been nice about moving out of his way, and he had to go and make some snide remark about me being a tourist. “Of course I'm secure! And as for my masculinity..."
Here was where I was supposed to dazzle him by saying something brilliant, something manly, but what? What the hell did I know that was brilliant or even remotely impressive? The only thing I could remember from chemistry is that 6.02 multiplied by ten to the twenty-third power equals one mole. That left manly, and the only thing I could think of in that respect was sports, which wasn't saying much at all. Teams! Think teams. This was California.
"Say, how about those Miami...” Oh, shit. I hoped my face didn't mirror the stupidity and blankness of my mind. Miami wasn't in California. To make matters worse, the Miami what? It was a fish, wasn't it? “...Mammals?"
"Miami Mammals?” Now came the look that told me I had to be the biggest moron in the world. How ironic that I should actually feel that way, too.
"Porpoises?” I asked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “Well, they're not whales...” I motioned toward my back and waved my hand. “They're the things with
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