Page 5 of The Leaves In Autumn
“Don’t be too happy. We have to take a sip every time we spot a Beeper or pleated jeans in aFriendsepisode. A shot if we see a pay phone or Walkman. And if there is an argument in a scene that could now be solved by Google, we chug a ….”
“Stop! We’ll be dead. Let’s stay with the sips and shots. As it is, I’m spending the night.”
“No problem. I prepared the guest suite for you.”
“You planned on us getting hammered, I take it.”
“It’s Hammer Time, baby. Sit your ass down. Visit with Channing while I bring in the food.”
Not sure she saw the eye roll, before heading for the kitchen. As I stretch out in my voluminous, gaudy, but extremely comfortable pants, the cell sounds.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I know we talked earlier, sweetheart, but I was just thinking about what I was doing at this time forty-eight years ago.”
“Your water had just broken. And Dad ran all the way from his studio. He made it in ten minutes.”
“I guess you’ve heard the story too many times. But that was one of the best days of our lives. I know you aren’t in a celebratory mood, Aargon. But know what a blessing it has been to have you as our firstborn. I love to remember how happy we were becoming parents.”
“Thanks, Mom. It’s fine. I just want to watch some TV and pass the day like any other. I know you understand.”
“Of course. We all do.”
Out of my peripheral vision I see Barbra entering the room, tray in hand. She hollers an announcement.
“Bagel Bite Bonanza!”
When she sees me on the phone her shoulders raise, eyes go wide, and lips press together in an apology. Unfortunately, Mom hears it all.
“Who’s that? Where are you?”
“It’s just Barbra. We’re having dinner and we’re going to watch something.”
Aurora Lyon wears her heart on her sleeve when it comes to us kids. Kids. That is stretching the word to breaking. Her voice changes. I know she’s smiling and readingwaaaaytoo much into this.
“How nice! You two have so much fun together. I’m happy you’re celebrating a little.”
“It’s not a celebration, Mom. Her friend is here and the three of us are just having dinner. I have to go. Talk tomorrow.”
Was that a chuckle?
CHAPTER 2
Barbra
One of my eyes squeezes shut, while trying to focus on the television screen. Joey Tribiani’s sexy face deserves clarity. Shit it must be nine o’clock. Is that a Beeper on Chandler’s table next to the recliners? Aargon beats me to it.
“Beeper!”
Pouring me a shot, the lone remaining dried up Pizza Roll gets pushed off its plate. I feel the need to announce our current state.
“Oops. We’re drunk.”
“No shit, Detective Holmes. What gave it away?”
“Who’s Detective Holmes?”
“First name Sherlock. By the way, the tequila is eating your brain cells.”
