Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (76 page)

Cooper and Dana both
looked at me as if I’ve completely lost it but at least they finally leave,
after telling me a shit load of times that they loved our house and Merry
Christmas. They all but skipped off the porch, hand in hand.

“Weirdo’s,” I heard
Lane say off in the distance.

“Jameson?” I called
climbing the stairs.

“Yeah,” his voice
sounded muffled and distant.

“Where are you?”

“Who’s with you?”

“It’s just me asshole.
Where are you?”

“In the kitchen,”

I
waddled
my ass back into the kitchen. It was the only way to walk these days. I won’t say
how much weight I’ve gained because it was just downright embarrassing and I’m
pretty sure even an elephant, who’s pregnant for two years, doesn’t gain this
much weight.

“Are they gone?” he
asked but I still couldn’t see him.

“Where are you?”

The pantry door swung
open and him and Lane barreled out with water guns and soaked the shit out of
me.

I was prepared though,
I knew this was going to happen eventually when he bought those goddamn things
the other day and quickly maneuvered my sea lion ass to the sink and drench
them with sprayer.

The impromptu water
fight ended on account of flooding in our brand new kitchen and left Jameson,
Lane and I laughing and soaking wet in almost an inch of water.

As we’re mopping up the
floor, well Jameson was, I was looking out the back window at the lake where
Cooper and Dana were waving to us from their paddle boat.

“We have neighbors
Sway.” He leaned against the cupboards. “Peppy-stalker neighbors,”

“What they doing?” Lane
asked looking out the French doors in the kitchen, his tiny arm stuck inside a
bag of Cheetos.

“It appears these
assholes are stalking us,” Jameson told him stealing a couple Cheetos when Lane
walked over to him as he sat on the kitchen floor. Lane held out his hand and
plopped down on his lap. Jameson in turn handed over another dollar.

“We should get a
security system installed.”

“We already have one
but we’re for sure installing security cameras and a barbwire fence.” Jameson
added.

“Barbwire is tacky.”

He looked up at me from
the floor with a contemplative expression. “You’re right
...
make
it an electric fence,
more reliable anyways. It might keep Spencer out too.”

Lane looked up from the
cookies he stole off the counter. “I need milk.” A couple pieces of cookie flew
out of his mouth onto Jameson’s arm.

Jameson tried to keep
his cool but if you knew him, you knew that nearly anything on his skin
repulsed him, chewed up cookies crumbs were no different. He calmly set Lane on
the ground next to the saturated pile of wet towels, stomped to the bathroom,
and closed the door.

“What’s
wid
him?” Lane asked; his bright blue eyes curiously
looking the direction Jameson just went.

“He’s got issues with
stuff on his skin.” I explained wiping the chocolate from his face with one of
the towels on the floor.

Lane seemed to
contemplate this for a moment before smiling. “
Dat
could come in handy.” I could almost hear the “
moohahaha
”
chanting in his head as he walked toward the living room, Cheetos and cookies
in hand. It was at that moment that I became aware that Lane was exactly like
Spencer.

I spent the rest of
that evening preparing everything for tomorrow with a giddy high. Since he was
diagnosed with metastatic brain cancer, I knew Charlie, my dad, wasn’t going to
be around much longer and I desperately wanted everyone together.

I also knew it was a
horrible idea
...
but what wasn’t a
horrible idea for
any
family to all be in the same house at the same
time? We may all be completely crazy but families are window nets, as Jameson
calls them. They keep you from falling out of the car completely.

On Christmas Eve, our
entire family arrived around two and it took me a good hour to get Jameson to
even come down stairs. Before he did, I found the need to warn the twins, also known
as my twin half-brothers from hell. There were pretty much the worst children
ever and I frequently referred to them as the Lucifer Twins.

“Listen you two,” I
grabbed their little cheeks in my hands, squeezing. Two sets of chocolate eyes
watched me carefully. “Stay away from Jameson today.” I told them. “I’m only
looking out for your safety. What the hell are you?” Lucas was bouncing up and
down like he had to pee. “Stop moving.”

“I need to pee.” He
replied reaching between his legs.

“Then pee,” I sighed,
this parenting shit was exhausting. “In the bathroom,” I specified when he
grinned.

I spent most of the
morning with the women of our families cooking for this meal, and when everyone
was finally eating, I was pleasantly relieved. I enjoyed cooking with the
girls; it was a nice change.

I don’t cook with
Jameson any longer. Why?

Because
it was easier to do it myself.
Just simple tasks like making a sandwich are
so in depth. He will start out by saying. “Where’s the bread?” Then he moves
onto, “Where’s the peanut butter?”
“And the jelly?”
“How much peanut butter do you use?”
“How much jelly?”
“Do you put peanut butter on both sides?” “Do you cut it in half?” “Wait, do
you toast the bread first?”

Do you see what I mean?
It’s exhausting.

Who knew making a
peanut butter sandwich was a ten-step process.

When everyone sat down
to eat, I felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders, or maybe it was
that I wasn’t on my feet with my balloon belly sticking out.

Kyle, Jameson’s crew
chief, and his girlfriend Elle, who in not so many words called me fat earlier
today, came over. Justin and Tyler showed up as well with their girlfriends,
who seemed nice enough and did not call me fat. They said I was glowing and
beautiful and I wanted to kiss them but didn’t. I really enjoyed Justin’s
girlfriend, Ami, and enjoyed talking pregnancy with her for a while as she just
found out she was expecting on Thanksgiving.

Van, our body guard,
came over, which made me happy. I felt like he was part of our family now and I
wanted him to know he was. Since the incident with Darrin last fall, Van wasn’t
more than a mile away from us at all times—it was reassuring.

Even though I was a
little nervous about tonight, I loved having everyone together. I couldn’t
remember the last time our entire family and friends were together, under the
same roof—aside from the wedding. Any time you had family together it could be
a good evening or a
very
bad evening where someone either got hurt, or
the cops are called. I wouldn’t rule either one out just yet—it was still
early.

After collecting more
food, I sat back down beside Spencer. On the other side was Jameson with Logan
across from me.

“What did you say,
Spencer?” Nancy asked, her eyes glancing around the table apprehensively.

I had no idea what they
were talking about.

“I told him to suck my
dick. I wasn’t helping him.” Spencer replied. “It was a dumb idea from the
start—he had no idea what he was talking about.”

Nancy gasped in horror
and covered Lane’s ears as he was silently building his mashed potato volcano,
his brow creased with determination.

“I didn’t mom. I didn’t
do it.” Jameson told her in defense holding his arms in the air as if in
capitulation. She looked somewhat relieved. “I told him to fuck off.” he
finished.

Another gasp from Nancy
as she once again, covered Lane’s ears. He must have heard though because his
next move was holding out his hand to Jameson who handed over another dollar
bill without thinking.

Spencer replied with
something else and nudged my shoulder. I couldn’t understand him. There was so
much goddamn food in his mouth, so I just shrugged. He popped another deviled
egg in his mouth laughing.

“Well this is a lovely
meal, Sway.” Jimi, Jameson’s dad, said with a smirk. “It’s a nice table too.”

I knew instantly where
he was going with that statement as did my over-reactive quick tempered
husband.

Jameson, who had been
building his own mash potato volcano, looked at his dad next to him. “What the
fu—” he stopped when he realized Lane was waiting for the slip. “
...
what did you say?”

“Darn it.” Lane
laughed.

“I said this is a
nice
table you guys have.” Jimi’s voice laced with innuendo.

Jameson glanced over at
me with suspicious eyes. “You
...
were
they
...
no
...
” his eyes flickered back to Jimi who
was grinning widely. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” he threw his wallet
toward Lane and stalked away. “This is fucking bullshit!”

“What’s he so mad
about?” Emma finally realized we were all gaping at Jimi and Nancy, who had
long since turned a bright shade of red.

“Way to go, Jimi.”
Charlie praised patting his back.

“What are they talking
about?” Lucas asked. He’d been just as clueless as Emma had that we had just
found out that Jimi and Nancy did the horizontal mambo on our dining room table
since we humped on theirs once.

“Jameson’s mad because
they did—” Logan began.

In a complete shit
move, I kicked Logan under the table to get him to shut up. Yep, I resorted
back to schoolyard survival with a six-year old. When he cried, I felt like a
complete asshole
...
until he cackled and
ran into the family room where Jameson had disappeared.

I had my reasoning for
kicking Logan, the last thing we needed was for Lane to start asking questions.
Lane was still innocent, give him a few years and Spencer would surely destroy
that, but I refused to do it myself.

Once dinner was done
and we’d moved on from the conversations of Nancy and Jimi on our table,
Jameson returned to the kitchen. He’d been holed up in the family room playing
video games with Lane and Justin, avoiding everyone else.

“You have some serious
making up to do.” He said to me lifting my chin so he could press a kiss on my
lips.

“Yes, yes, making up
...
” I placed the last plate in the
dishwasher before closing the lid shut. “
lots
of
making up.”

“That’s right.” He
nodded walking back into the family room where Van was wrestling with the
twins.

Van came in a few
minutes later, breathless from the exertion. “Thanks so much for dinner Ms.
Sway.” He threw an arm around my shoulder. “You sure can throw down a meal.”
His other hand rubbed his belly leisurely. “I may need to move in now.”

“Thanks Van, did you
get enough to eat?” Alley and I put the final touches on the desert buffet we’d
created on the center island.

“Yes, definitely
...
” his gaze shifted as Alley carried the
brownies over. “
wow
...
look
at that.” His eyes widened as he took in the sugar insanity.

Van quickly gathered a
few brownies and other treats before making his way into the movie room.

Jameson snuck back into
the kitchen, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulled me outside with him.

“Now,” his lips
captured mine. “
for
that making up you have to do
...
” The cool winter air mixed with his
warmth breath causing me to shiver as I melted into him.

Before Jameson could
hold me to the making up, Charlie and Jimi stepped outside onto the patio with
us, laughing like
Cheech
and Chong in the movie
Up
in Smoke
. I was almost positive that was the movie playing in the movie
room now as I thought about it.

“What’s wrong with
them?” Jameson asked in a very melodramatic way running his hands through his
hair stepping away from me.

I watched them for a
moment and knew something was wrong.

“I have no clue.”
Something was really bizarre about the way they were acting.

Jameson threw his hands
up in the air, frustrated. “
Really
, there’s something wrong with them.
They don’t usually act this way.”

“They’re on something.”
I deduced after Charlie chuckled once, his pupils dilated to the point you
couldn’t see the chocolate of his irises.

“Oh my god,” Jameson
balked examining his dad’s behavior—who was currently peeing on the side of our
house while Charlie laughed hysterically.

“They’re definitely on
something.”
Was my final assessment too.