Page 55 of Before We Say Goodbye
“Do you hear what you’re telling me to do? I’m not seven years old.”
“You’re going to start acting like it.”
Chapter 14
Pac-Man and White Zin
Sitting on a beanbag in Cam’s room, Otis mashed down the controller and steered Pac-Man toward the enemy. “You can’t take me alive!”
“Not that way, you git. They’ll eat your face off!” Cam screamed from his tiptoed stance; he hadn’t sat down for thirty minutes.
“Let’s not call names,” Otis said. He had to be careful what he said lately, because Cam had turned into a parrot.
Otis had no idea what monsters he would create when he surprised Camden with a new Atari game console a week ago. So much for them ever doing their farm chores again. Michael sat cross-legged only a couple of feet from the television. At five, he hadn’t quite figured out how to play yet, but he was mesmerized by the game’s visuals.
Otis’s recess had just started. He’d been dropping new plantings into the ground when Rebecca rang the bell. To call Otis in from the vineyard, she’d purchased an old church bell from an antique store and hung it from the pergola that rose over the terrace. When that bell rang, Otis had minutes to race to the house to join the boys in recess.
Or else.
Or elsewas her newugh.It was extraordinary how sassy his hippie princess could get. Perhaps he was the one who’d turned her that way. There was no more Mrs. Nice Girl when it came to his well-being.
She’d taken the same route with Jed and her parents, no longer letting them take advantage of her. Tough love was her new attitude, often even resorting to blackmail. Though Lost Souls didn’t have the income it had, Bec was still giving her family money, and she’d threatened to cut them off if Marshall and Jed didn’t attend AA meetings. She’d even sit through the meetings with them, making sure they participated. Indeed, although they were attending the meetings, Otis doubted the two men were actually sober. Apropos Olivia, Bec was constantly bickering with her, telling her that she had to learn to stand up for herself.
Most of these details Otis learned from afar, as he avoided the Marshall family as much as he could. He had his own command from Bec anyway: Learn how to play.
It wasn’t always video games. They’d already set up Cam’s pretend winery, attempted and failed to solve a Rubik’s Cube, played tag and hide-and-go-seek ad nauseum, and thrown the football and Frisbee till Otis had torn a muscle in his shoulder.
When Otis was finally eaten in the game, he widened his eyes and said, “Now who else can I chomp?”
“Not me!” Cam yelled, running toward his dad, tackling him.
Mike followed suit, leaping into the air and landing right on Otis’s stomach. “Oh, God, boy, you weigh too much these days.”
Neither of them let up, attacking Otis from all angles, poking him in the side, trying to tickle him under the armpits.
“Is this fair? Teaming up on me? Don’t make me unleash Pac-Man.”
Cam and Mike laughed but continued their onslaught.
“Okay, that’s it. Turbo mode coming right up. Chomp, chomp, chomp.” The boys clung to him as he stood and shook them off and chased them out of the room.
Rebecca stood in the hallway, a smile dancing on her lips. Otis realized the width of his own smile, patted her on the bottom, then yelled after Mike: “Make way for Daddy Pac-Man!”
During this short hour every day he let go of his worries about their lack of money or the work ahead. For the first time in his life, hewas truly connecting with his boys. Maybe Rebecca was right again. Of course she was. She was always flipping right, and he felt grateful to her, but he had a hard time saying it.
The bell rang again in the afternoon on Saturday. Bec had said she didn’t want him to work on the weekends. He found that as funny as a skit he’d seen onSNLa week earlier. Till that impossible day came, they’d settled on him taking off Saturday afternoons to visit L&N Donut Shop, the place where Otis had first met the wine legend August Sebastiani, who had always kindly shared his wisdom over the years.
It was a scorcher outside, almost ninety degrees. Otis could only imagine how early he’d have to pick this year, if things didn’t settle down.
As they pulled up to L&N, Cam said, “Oh, crap. That’s Melanie.”
Three young girls with bows in their hair stood in the long line, giggling.
“Shall we buy their doughnuts?” Otis asked.
“I’m not getting out of the car.”
Otis turned to the back seat of their station wagon, a purchase made right before the fall of the Till empire. That’s what he called it. They had some cash on hand, but the bleak future promised headwinds. No sprinkles or any other extra toppings today, that was for sure. The only exception would be a small scoop for Cam’s potential love interest.
