The Brat and the Brainiac (9 page)

“Yeah. Unless you don’t like me that way.”

“Oh, my God, Jason, I love you so much.”

He takes the cup from me and takes his own sip of the soda.

“But we’re not doing anything until you graduate, and we’ll just have to maybe go to Vegas to get married, because I can’t afford a big wedding or anything.”

“No, that’s fine. I’d marry you at the courthouse if you wanted me to.”

He takes another sip.

“That reminds me. Do you know how to do housework? We have to do our own housework.”

“No, but I’ll try really hard to learn. I’m sure they’ll teach me how to mop at one of these places, whichever one hires me.”

“You can’t get an office job? That’s more up your alley than burger flipping.”

“Well, I’ll try. I just thought it was kind of an emergency and I needed a place that would start me right away.”

He hands me the cup, smiling softly.

“That’s so sweet. Go ahead and fill a couple out, and I’ll get us a refill.”

Miranda sits there filling out applications the whole time we wait for my glasses. I don’t really want her to work at the mall, but I don’t want to discourage her, either. She turns in her applications and, on the way back to the eyeglass store, we pass an accessories shop that has a Help Wanted sign up, too.

“Oh, I love that store. It’d be so fun to work there. I’m getting an application. Do you want to wait, or should I meet you back at the eyeglass store?”

“I’ll wait.”

She sits there and fills the application out, and then she brings it back into the store. She’s in there for about twenty minutes, and when she comes out, she’s got a big grin on her face.

“They asked me if I can start tomorrow afternoon and I said yes, so they hired me.”

“What? Good girl.”

“I’m going to make nine bucks an hour. Plus, we get a discount on accessories. I saw the cutest little socks in there.”

“Well, come on. Let’s go get my glasses.”

Having a job to go to cheers Miranda up considerably, and she seems really excited about it. She spends an hour at the department store picking out a couple of outfits to wear, and they end up costing me a fortune, but I let her buy them anyway.

“We’ll have to get your stuff at your house pretty soon,” I tell her. “You do know we’re going to Seattle soon? Only for a few days, though.”

“Maybe they’ll let me work more hours while you’re gone.”

We stop off at the beauty supply place to let her get some stuff to do her hair, and then the drugstore to buy her some makeup and a toothbrush, and when we finally get home, I make some room in the closet for her and empty out a drawer or two.

“I swear to God, I’ll totally pay you back when I get my first paycheck,” she says.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Who wants to learn how to vacuum?”

Everything’s good until it’s time for bed. I lend her one of my t-shirts to sleep in, and for some reason, that sets her off again.

“Now what?”

“Uncle Tommy used to let me wear his t-shirts once in a while.”

“Well, put it on and lie down.”

No longer seeking to hide her scar from me, she strips down to her panties and drags the shirt over her head. Her panties are soft and silky-looking, and I come close and caress her bottom. She reaches up and kisses me, but then she starts crying again. We climb into bed together, and even though I’m hard and hungry for sex, I give her some space.

“He’s been like a father to me,” she tells me. “How could he do such a thing?”

“He was probably just mad.”

Nevertheless, she cries herself to sleep. I feel sorry for her and I snuggle up behind her. She’s nice and warm, and I wish she’d wake up and make love to me, but I know she’s emotionally worn out. She has to be, because I am, too.

Tommy and I avoid each other the next night at the game, But the night after that, he looks contrite, and even a little bit depressed. He doesn’t try to approach me for the first half, but after the seventh-inning stretch, he comes up to me. He darts a glance around to make sure no one’s listening, and then he speaks to me.

“Hey. Sorry about that...you know. I guess she’s right about me only seeing her as a little girl.”

“She got a job,” I tell him.

“A job? Doing what?”

“Selling fashion accessories at the mall. When can she come get her clothes? I can’t afford to buy her too much more until payday.”

His eyes well up, and I think he’s going to cry, but instead he just pretends like he has something in his eye.

“Look, man, I shouldn’t have punched you. Sometimes I just get carried away. I’m an asshole, what can you expect?”

“Well, it means a lot to hear you say that, but I think it’s going to be harder to convince Miranda. She’s got it all mapped out. She’s going to buy a few more outfits, and then she’s going to save all the rest for college. She doesn’t know if she can afford the tuition, but she’ll at least buy all the books. Speaking of which, she needs her textbooks. Her teachers are getting pissed.”

“Tell her to come get them on Thursday. I’ll be gone, in case she doesn’t want to see me, but Ignatius will be there.”

I nod.

“Yeah. She wants her bracelet. She’s worried you put it through the garbage disposal or something.”

He dashes away a tear and looks around to make sure no one saw it.

“I’m not that big of an asshole, am I?”

I glance at him. For the first time since I met him, he looks unsure of himself.

“No,” I tell him. “You two just need to sit down and talk.”

“What if she won’t?”

“Then I’ll give her a good spanking and make her do it. I think you’re coming up.”

He adjusts his ball cap and leaves me there while he goes to put on his batting helmet and grab his favorite bat. I wonder how good he’ll be with all this on his mind, but he has a marvelous capacity for getting his head back in the game and hits a double, knocking in a run. We glance at each other while he’s on second and he grins.

His grin is as infectious as hers, so I smile back. Of course, it makes my eye hurt, but I ignore the pain because I know everything’s all right between us.

Between Tommy and Miranda is a different story. He has to talk to her and apologize and get her to come home, because the truth is, I’m afraid to leave her alone while we’re on the road. As far as I know, she’s never been by herself for more than one night, and it’s another long, ten-day trip.

Besides, my place isn’t quite big enough for the two of us. We’re already bumping into each other, and she hasn’t even moved her stuff in yet. I’ll have to sell my place and buy us a house somewhere, but I can’t afford to if I’m paying all her bills right now. Between my mortgage, my car payment, and her college tuition, there will barely be anything left by payday. Miranda promises to work hard and help out, but I’m starting to think she’d just be better off at home. She says she gets a quarterly allowance from some trust fund, but I haven’t seen it yet.

When I get home, I inform her that we’ll be going over to her house on Thursday evening.

“Will Uncle Tommy be there?”

“Yes, and you’re going to sit down and talk to him before we start moving things out.”

She pouts and plays with one of her braids.

“What for?”

“He wants to say he’s sorry.”

“Oh, you’re all on his side now? He still owes you for a new pair of glasses.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” I tell her. “We’re going over there and we’re talking to him, or you’ll be doing it with a sore ass.”

Something flares in her eyes, but it dies away so quickly I don’t know what she’s thinking.

“Well?” I ask her. “Which is it? The bath brush or you going willingly?”

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good. Now come here and give me a kiss. What’s for dinner?”

On Thursday, she has her Math and Ethics classes, but I tell her to hurry up and rush straight home afterwards. I expect to see her about two-thirty, but she doesn’t get home unti
l
about five.

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask her.

“They called me from work and asked if I could fill in for a couple of hours.”

“And you couldn’t call to tell me that? I’ve been worried sick. Besides, we have to get to your uncle’s. We’re supposed to be on the bus at ten.”

“Then can’t we have sex first?” she asks.

“No, but we can have a spanking first. Get up and bend over the arm of the couch while I get the bath brush.”

She tries to whine about it, but when I get back from the bedroom, she’s in position. I whack her twice and she laces her feet together.

“Now are you going to stop screwing around and get ready to go visit your uncle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now here are six more to remind you to call home when you’re going to be late.”

I proceed to land the six blows and she’s crying by the end of them.

“Just lie there until you calm down, and then we’ll go.”

“Yes, sir. Jason, do you still love me?”

I glance at her and she looks so pitiful I have to go over there and hug her.

“Of course I do. Now stop being silly and go wash your face so we can go.”

By the time we get to Tommy’s, she’s wound up again. I wonder if I’ll have to spank her a second time before the night’s over, but she goes straight into the house like she belongs there and we all three go into the living room.

“First of all, no more spankings,” she tells him. “From now on, my fiancé will be handling my discipline.”

“Fiancé? I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, we’re not
officially
engaged yet, but we’ve talked about it and we both know we want to marry each other.”

“Did you browbeat him into it?”

“No,” she answers curtly. “He brought it up himself.”

He glares at me.

“Oh, really? Miranda, can you excuse us for a moment? Jason and I have something to discuss in the study.”

“You’d better not do anything to him, Uncle Tommy.”

“No one’s doing anything to anybody,” he tells her. “Sit down.”

I follow him into the study, feeling a little sick to my stomach. Once we’re safely tucked away in there, he turns to me.

“Hold on. Let me take my glasses off.”

“I’m not going to hit you. I just want to know what this being engaged crap is. That wasn’t what we talked about.”

“I know. I brought it up casually the other day and she sort of ran with it.”

“God damn it; don’t you know how much harder this is going to make it to get her to come home?”

“Oh, she’s coming home. Don’t you worry about that.”

When we leave the study, she’s out in the kitchen with Ignatius, who’s making some sandwiches.

“Don’t you two have to go soon?” he asks.

“Yes, we do,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m only going to say this once. Miranda, you’re staying here while we’re on our road trip.”

“But, Jason, I wanted to stay at your place.”

“Well, you’re not going to.”

She stares at me in disbelief. “Now you’re kicking me out, too?”

“No. I just think it’s in everybody’s best interest for you to come home. Especially while we’re gone. I don’t want to have to worry about you the whole time.”

She starts fuming and stamping around the kitchen.

“I hate you guys,” she tells us. “I knew I should’ve gone with Bobby Sinclaire.”

“Bobby Sinclaire?” I ask, not bothering to mask my disgust. “The lout who said you should show your boobs more often?”

“Forget him,” says Tommy. “He’s with a different chick every three days.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go call Dennis.”

“Miranda,” says Ignatius. “Do you want to eat wood?”

She stops pacing and looks at him.

“I don’t care,” she says wildly. “Let them hit me as much as they want to. I still think they’re jerks.”

Tommy moves towards her. “Go to your room,” he tells her, pointing in the direction of the stairs. “And don’t come back down until I tell you. And if you call Dennis, you’re really going to regret it.”

She bursts into tears and runs out of the room. I follow her to the foot of the stairs.

“You know, he shouldn’t even have to tell you that,” I say to her retreating back.

“Fuck you, Jason Weed.”

I wait until the inevitable door slam to go back out to the kitchen. I go and reach over the counter, offering my hand to Ignatius to shake.

“Ignatius, you seem like a pretty cool guy. It was nice knowing you. Tell Kevin I said goodbye.”

“Wait,” says Tommy. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” I tell him. “I have some more packing to do. Besides that, I’m not marrying a girl who curses me out like she does. There has to be mutual trust and respect for a marriage to work, and it doesn’t seem to me like we have that here. So goodbye. I’ll see you at the ballpark later.”

Tommy escorts me to the door. He actually looks like he wants to cry.

“She’s just mad.”

“Well, she can be as mad as she wants to now.”

We say goodbye, and then I go out to my car and get in it. I sit there a second, and then I start pounding the steering wheel with my fists.

That couldn’t have gone worse if I wanted it to.