Page 46 of Spike

“Cushy,” he said,visibly struggling to maintain his composure.

“Sure,” Icontinued. “You’ve got six days to write a twenty-minute book report on onesmall section of a book you’ve read a dozen times. Then the day of the oralpresentation, you throw in a few jokes you picked up at the last pastor’sconference, a few analogies pulled from your high school sport glory days, andwith a little help from the watered-down rock band behind you, you can pull asolid C-plus to a B-minus every week. And that’s enough to keep the titherscoming back, Mrs. Pastor happy, and for God to stick your report card up on hisheavenly refrigerator.”

Gary glared at me.“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Good. I don’twant you to be. I want us to be able to speak freely, man to man.”

“How’s this?” heretorted. “I want you to stay the hell away from my daughter. I don’t know whatkind of phase she’s going through, or why she’s attached herself to you, but itends tonight.”

“I’m gonna assumeit’s your ‘back pills’ that are doing the talking right now, and cut you someslack, but don’t ever tell me what I can and cannot do again. The same goes forTrixie. She’s not your property, your live-in servant, or one of your churchdrones. She’s a grown woman and she can do whatever the hell she wants.”

Gary was shakingwith anger. “Get out of my house.”

“Thanks for thewonderful evening,” I said with a smile before pausing. “Oh, and you missed alittle,” I said, motioning for him to brush his moustache.

His face turnedbright red as he quickly wiped away the powder. Now I knew where Trixie got hertendency to blush, but she looked way better than her old man when she did.

** *

Trixie

Thursday, I got animpromptu invitation for dinner from Mattias and his partner, Ronnie. Insteadof texting him back, I called.

“Well, hi there,baby sister, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What do youmean?” I asked. “You just texted me.”

“Yeah, but younormally just text me back. When’s the last time we actually talked on thephone?”

“Fair,” Iadmitted.

“So, what’s up?”

“Um, well, I’dloveto come to dinner…”

“But?”

I bit my lip. “CanI invite someone, please?”

“Is it this boythat Mom and Dad are absolutely apoplectic about?”

I sighed. “Theytold you?”

“Please, theydon’t tell me anything. Jens told me.”

“Was he kind, ordid he pound on his chest, spouting something like, ‘I am a big man and mylittle sister is dating a big ol’ tattooed biker. Grrr.’”

Matty burst outlaughing as I lowered my voice and imitated our brother warmly and accurately.

“It’s like youknow him or something,” he said.

I smiled. “Weirdhow that is.”

“You can invitewhomever you like.”

“Okay thanks. I’lllet you know if he can make it. I’ll text you as soon as I know, but eitherway, I’ll be there.”

“Okay, sissy. Seeyou soon.”

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