Page 10 of Chubs

“Just be my dad,” I answer sincerely.

“Always, my little Lucy. Now, let’s take a break from thinking and go get our drunk on. We have plenty of time to figure everything else out later.”

Walking into the kitchen, I see my mom sitting at the island, wine glass in hand. My sister Lisa is pulling a pan out of the oven and then turns toward Dad and me. Spotting us, she drops the pan, and I watch as tater tots fly everywhere. Assuming the Lucy curse has just struck again, I open my mouth to apologize, but Lisa cuts me off.

“I’m helping Dad bury him. I swear to God!” she shouts as she charges toward me.

“Lisa, I…” I start to explain just as she reaches me.

Lisa grabs both of my arms and hauls me in for a tight hug. I accept the hug, knowing Lisa has my best interests at heart. When she pulls back, she smooths one thumb under my eye before bumping our foreheads together gently.

“Your face gives away that you’re hurting. You’ve been crying, and I hate that. I love Chubs. He’s family, but he’s not you. Dad and I can do the planning while you hang out with Mom if that makes it easier for you,” she says adamantly.

“No one is burying Chubs,” I tell her with a small smile. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I’m a patient person. I can wait,” she retorts while using my arm to pull me to a stool next to Mom’s. Taking a seat, I turn to my mom.

“Sorry to bust in causing a ruckus,” I say to the woman who’s always had my back.

Before speaking, Mom gently tucks a chunk of my hair behind one ear, then cups my chin.

“You’re not busting in; this is your home too and always will be. As for the ruckus, that sounds more like your dad and sister planning murder and mayhem than you. Before I ask you what you’d like to drink and if there’s anything I can do to wipe that sadness out of your eyes, I need to ask them one thing. When and where? Okay, now that they know I’m joining their plans for mayhem, do you want wine, my darling girl?”

Have I ever mentioned how lucky I am for being born into this family?

Leaning forward, I brush a light kiss on her cheek. Mom puts her hand against the back of my head and holds me there for a few extra beats before letting go. Leaning back, I answer her with a nod. I’ll start with wine, but this night may call for stronger stuff before it ends.

Waking up the next morning in my childhood room, I slowly stretch. Relaxing back into my pillows, I realize I don’t have a hangover. Since I seldom drink, I usually end up with a headache but not today. I can probably thank my dad for that since I’m sure he mixed my drinks with very little alcohol as he’s done in the past. He also insisted that Lisa and I each take two ibuprofen with a complete bottle of water before bed. I’m also grateful that no one pushed for details last night because they know I’ll talk when I’m ready.

I’m startled into sitting upright when my bedroom door suddenly flies open. My heart rate settles back to normal when I realize it’s only Lisa being Lisa again. In pajamas covered in llamas, she runs full speed at me before jumping high to land on the bed next to me. The bed bounces, and I’m nearly tossed out of it, but Lisa grabs my arm before that happens. Flopping onto her back next to me, she tosses a sassy grin at me.

“How old are you?” I ask dryly.

“I’ll never be so old that I stop tormenting my little sister,” she replies with a snort.

“Pain in the ass,” I state with a sigh.

“You love me anyway,” she insists.

“Only because Mom and Dad make me,” I fib but say it in a serious voice.

“You keep lying to me, I’m going to pin you down. You won’t like me doing that,” she threatens.

As kids, she would pin me by sitting on my stomach with her knees holding my arms tight to my sides. Then she would lean over my face, spitball threatening to fall, and I’d squeal in terror. I’d promise whatever it was she wanted me to agree with, and she’d suck the spitball back into her mouth with a grin. She was a demon child. She always won, and I always hated that she wasn’t as tiny as me. I’m still way smaller than her, but now I have a secret weapon she’s unaware of. My secret weapon is named Cash.

Rolling quickly, I put her into a headlock, then wrapped my legs around hers, immobilizing her.

Surprised, Lisa tries to get free but doesn’t succeed. After a minute of struggling and making no progress, she relaxes. I grin and then whisper-shout in her ear, “Mom and Dad adopted you but couldn’t take you back because the pound had a policy of no takebacks, no returns. You bought it, you keep it! Then they had me and insisted that I at least pretend to love you! It’s been horrible, and I’m glad the truth is finally out there!”

Leaning my head down slightly, I swipe my tongue across her cheek while she squeals in disgust. Years of being tormented, and I finally get some revenge. Thank you, Cash.

“Girls! What in the world?” Mom chides as she enters my room.

“Mom! She licked my face!” Lisa shouts as she tattles like a third-grader. I guess that pretty much answers my question about how old she is.

“I’m guessing payback for all the times you sat on her,” Mom replies as she sits on the edge of my bed.

Mom stares at me with one raised eyebrow. I stare back for several seconds before asking in disgust, “Do I have to let her up?”

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