Kyle’s decision to take his family on vacation may have been forced on him by his boss, but he’s looking forward to it. He’s felt lost and alone, burying himself in work to keep himself from grieving for his wife. But the time has come for him to put that behind him and move forward. A short exchange with his 12 year old son makes him realize how out of touch he’s been. Randy has developed a sarcastic edge he hadn’t noticed.
“Smart ass. Where does he get that from?”
“You aren’t serious?” Carmelita said.
Kyle laughed. “I know exactly where he gets it from. Poor kid. Most sarcastic—that’s what it’ll say in the high school yearbook his senior year.”
“How do you know that?”
“Cause that’s what it said about me and he’s twice as caustic as I was.”
“Not necessarily something to pride yourself on.”
His face clouded slightly as he remembered himself in high school. “When you’re the skinny, geeky kid with bad eyesight who’s more interested in chess than sports, you take your recognition where you can get it. I was the funny guy, the one who could always make chicks laugh.”
“Bet you didn’t get laid as often as the jocks, though.”
“Not as much, no. Quality, not quantity.”
“Playing with yourself don’t count.” She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his pants.
Kyle’s manhood wanted to shrivel up under that stare. Instead of letting her get to him, he stood up straight, hips thrust forward proudly.
“How about letting a girl play with you? Does that count?”
“You let some chick give you a hand job? Now that’s an interesting fact about you I hoped never to find out.”
Kyle laughed, picking up a slice of red bell pepper she was slicing. “Something like that,” he raised his eyebrows like Groucho Marx. “What can I help with?”
“Not a thing. I know how you are in the kitchen. Destructo Dad.”
“Hey, be fair, it only happened once. Okay, twice, but it was Mother’s Day. The kids wanted to fix Margo breakfast.”
“Mm hmm…. and who ended up scraping pancakes off the ceiling?”
“And who stood there making sure you did it right?”
“Okay, but in all fairness, the ones that didn’t hit the ceiling were really good.”
“I’ll give you that. They were tasty. Sit, keep me company.” She snapped the knife down on the board as he tried to grab another slice of pepper. “Keep that up, we’ll be calling you Four Finger Scott.”
He grabbed a slice, slipping around to the other side of the island before she could hit him.
“So, where are we going on this cruise?”
“Angie’s going to call me later and let me know details.”
“You didn’t tell her where you wanted to go?” She was shocked.
“I wanted Fate to decide. Angie’s never let me down before.”
“Oh, so that seven hour layover in Atlanta last year was well planned out?”
“Wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t control the weather in Charlotte. All the flights got diverted to Atlanta. What was there to do?”
“When you do that, it’s very disturbing.”
“It makes me think I did something bad—or incredibly stupid.”
Her dark eyes focused on him, no expression in them. “Mm hmm.”
“Trust the Force, Lita.” He wiggled his fingers like he was trying to hypnotize her. “It will be fun.”
“So long as it’s tropical and there are buff bodies to look at by the pool, Carmelita will not be bored or disappointed.”
© Dellani Oakes