“There she is,” he says, almost singing.
“Hey, Daddy!” I smile, hurrying towards him for the bear hug I know always awaits me. He smells like tobacco and Double mint gum. Like his hugs, the smell always offers a sense of comfort. He gives me a kiss on my forehead, and hugs me tight like he did when I was a little girl.
“She’s late, David,” my mother hisses, closing the front door.
She proceeds to stand there, tapping her foot on the tile, obviously waiting for my father to agree that being late is the most absurdly vile thing one could be. I roll my eyes and look at my father. He smiles with understanding.
“She didn’t miss anything, Cynthia,” he says without taking his eyes off mine. “Come on, now, let’s get you a drink, sweetheart.” He winks at me reassuringly and drapes his arm across my shoulders as he leads the way to the bar.
When we enter the family room, I notice most of the guests are spread out, and deep in conversation. Setting my purse down on the couch, I follow my dad to the bar in the back of the room. I sit down and roll my shoulders, trying to relax into the evening the best I can.
My brother, Michael, has brought a date, and is busy talking between her and his best friend, Rex Roberts. Gloria and Don Roberts are in the corner talking to Trevor, and raise their glasses to me in a hello gesture. Gwen’s parents stand alongside them, and wave to me as well. Trevor looks over. The intense longing in his eyes makes me uneasy.
“Pick your poison, baby girl,” my father says, picking up a bottle of Johnny Walker and filling his glass to the brim.
“Red wine, Daddy, and keep them coming.”
He nods, setting my glass down and filling it almost to the very top. Winking, he leans in close. “A little liquid courage to deal with that hotheaded mother of yours.”
I laugh as I catch my mother’s very disapproving glance from across the room. My dad wanders off in my mother’s direction just as I’m joined by my brother, his date, and Rex. Rex comes up behind me, grabs me tightly around my waist, and kisses me on the cheek.
“Wow-wee, you get better looking every time I see you!” he hollers loud and obnoxiously.
“Really, Rex, that’s so gross. I don’t know where your lips have been,” I say, wiping his kiss away. “Besides, I’m like the little sister you never had.”
I roll my eyes and smack him on the arm.
“I just like to watch that one squirm.” Rex laughs, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Trevor, who is now hatefully staring back at his older brother. He kisses the top of my head in the most brotherly of ways and takes a seat next to me at the bar.
“You’re a twisted man, Rex Roberts,” I giggle.
He winks knowingly and continues taking very long sips off his beer while his gaze surveys the room. He appears to be looking for something, or someone, which catches me as odd, and I wonder if he, too, might have brought a date. Which would be completely out of character, seeing as I have only ever met one girl he’s ever brought home. To say that they were actually dating is a long shot.
Rex and I have more of a brother-sister relationship than the one I have with my own brother. We laugh and joke in ways Michael and I never do. When my brother disapproves of my poor life choices, Rex is there for me as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, and a best friend to kick anyone’s ass that ever dared to mess with me or my heart. I have always thought our camaraderie was due to the fact that I am more like my father, and Michael is more like my condescending mother, always ready to look down on someone that wasn’t exactly up to their standards. I never could understand why, being so different, the two boys got along so well.
I cherish the brotherly love Rex gives me. Rex is one of my most favorite people in the world. Nothing anywhere close to romance has ever happened between us, just pure love for each other in a best-friendship kind of way.
“So, little sister,” my brother Michael says, putting his arm around his date, “when did you get home?”
“About an hour and a half ago,” I say, taking a sip of my wine. “Who’s the girl?” I ask, staring straight at my brother and not his date.
I’m fully aware that the girl is, in fact, standing right in front of me and can hear me and answer for herself if she wanted to, but girls like her never do. They typically just stare off into space, dumbfounded.
“This is Amber,” he replies, staring straight down into Amber’s massive cleavage. Her tits are displayed so boldly I’m sure the neighbors can see them clearly if they really wanted to.
Amber just smiles, almost as oblivious to his staring at her fake boobs as she is to my rude question. Michael has a similar taste in women as Rex. Their motto is the stupider, the easier, the more fake and plastic, the better.
My theory is this is their protection against long-term commitment. The girls Michael and Rex date are momentary pit stops on their life’s journey. Neither one of them has any intention of making them last longer than a few weeks tops. This apparent camaraderie, I’ve decided after all these years, is perhaps exactly what makes their life-long friendship last.
“So,” Michael continues. His focus now back on me. “How was the OC?”
“You were down south?” Rex butts in. “No way. I was there too, just got back last night.”
“I just went down to see Gwen,” I tell my brother. “Nothing big …”
Rex cuts me off as he rounds the bar. “Gwen. Really? How’s she doing? Is she still dating that douchebag from a few years back?” He pops open another beer and then goes through the motions of pouring me water. He knows me too well; I pretend I can handle my liquor, but he’s taken care of me on one too many nights when I ended up more talk than show.
“Since when do you care?” I ask, then notice a hurt expression cross his face. “We spent last night at Longboards …”
