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Click hereStephen thought about how his mother might take the news that he was moving out. Part of him wondered whether she would be happy about it, seeing him sprout his own wings and move forward with his life. Maybe even lessen the financial burden on the house. Yet the other part of him wondered whether she would be upset to see him go. All he had ever known was twenty one years of living with her. It seemed bittersweet that it was finally coming to an end.
"How do you think Theresa will take this?" Grace asked him on the ride home, seeming to echo his thoughts.
"I'm wondering that myself. I think she'll take it well, but I do think she'll be upset to see me finally leave the house."
Grace squeezed his hand, "You're happy about all this, right? Happy to get your own apartment? With me?" Stephen looked over to see a vulnerable look on her face. Despite being an all knowing genie, there was still moments of self-doubt that washed over her.
He took her hand, raised it up to his lips, and kissed the back of it, "Very happy, babe. Couldn't be happier to move in with you."
Her pout evaporated, replaced by a beaming grin. "I can't wait to christen every room in the new place with you."
Stephen chuckled to himself as he pulled into the neighborhood. Right before he got to the house, he was confronted by a rather bizarre scene, something that made him stop right at the edge of the driveway to get out.
The was a yelling match taking place right in front of the house of their weird, new neighbor, Henry Lopez. It wasn't hard to see the reason for the yelling match. Out on the street, two cars had very obviously collided, resulting in quite a large amount of damage to the car that had been passing by on the road. Stephen guessed the more damaged car belonged to the man that was yelling the most.
"What were you thinking? Have you ever driven before?! You could have killed me!" The man doing the screaming was around forty, and yet already had snow white hair. He was being very expressive with his hands, throwing them up in the air, casting them from side to side, and taking malicious points at Mr. Lopez, who was wearing a scowl, but otherwise saying nothing.
"It was an accident," replied Mr. Lopez calmly, pointing back to the car. "How much money do you want for the damage?"
"Accident, my ass! Do you even know how to set a parking break, you moron?! It's not a hard concept. When you live on a hill, you need to make sure your parking break is on when you leave the car! Do you need me to write it down for you?!"
On and on, the white haired man yelled, and as he did, Stephen began to get a full picture of what happened. Poor Mr. Lopez just took the abuse from the man, occasionally offering rebuttal, but staying remarkably calm for having someone practically spitting in your face with a verbal diatribe.
"I don't know what kind of stupid ass country you're from, but here in America, we learn how to drive vehicles properly! Look at my car, you've destroyed the entire headlight and bumper!"
Taking a closer look at the car, Stephen noticed the damage was quite severe. He thought about intervening, but with how unstable the white haired man appeared to be, the last thing he wanted was to be on the receiving end of his malicious words. He even credited Mr. Lopez for remaining calm, and not exploding on the guy.
"I told you," Mr. Lopez repeated, "I will pay for the damage to your vehicle."
"No shit you will, asshole. And you'll pay every cent until my Ford looks brand new again, you hear me? Now, go get your checkbook! I don't know what kind of asshole doesn't even have insurance, but you will pay the whole damned thing."
Mr. Lopez disappeared inside his house, before reappearing moments later with what looked like a stack of bills in his hand. It was a healthy looking stack, clearly hundred dollar bills, and quite a lot of them. Whatever his job was, it clearly paid well!
He began to count out the bills until he reached two thousand dollars. "There's two thousand. That should be plenty."
The white haired man began to calm down, his eyes widening as he took in each successive hundred dollar bill. "I don't know. You destroyed my entire headlight, and my bumper is hanging. It will take a few thousand just for the bumper alone, you know!"
It was at that point that Mr. Lopez leaned in, saying something too quietly for Stephen to pick up. However, after he was done talking, the tone of the white haired man changed considerably.
"Now, now, there's no need for that! This money should be fine." He walked quickly away, getting back into the driver's seat of his car and turning on the engine. Letting the window roll down, he yelled out to Mr. Lopez one more time, "You're lucky I'm a good Christian, pal!" before speeding off.
"I wonder what he said," said Stephen, quietly, watching the busted up Ford beat a hasty retreat.
Grace looked at him, before answering his question, "He threatened him with a knife. He told that man if he didn't accept the payment and go away now, he would find a number of interesting places to stick it in him."
Stephen looked over at Grace in shock. "Weird Mr. Lopez said all of that? To stab him with a knife?!"
Grace just nodded. Well, that explained why the white haired man made such a quick getaway. Still, Stephen couldn't help but think he may even be a little bit justified, with the white haired man's aggressive and demeaning behavior. He shrugged it off, carefully filing it away mentally as never to mess with Mr. Lopez.
"Come on, Grace, let's get out of here. We still have a couple hours before mom gets home from work," he said finally, gesturing for Grace to follow him.
She turned her attention back to him, a sultry smile appearing on her lips. "Do I feel a wish coming?"
"It hardly needs to be a wish I think, but I wish to make love to you for the next hour," Stephen chuckled.
"Done!" Grace smirked, leading him firmly by the hand into the house. The door shut with a heavy bang, shutting out the outside world. Yet, what the couple didn't know, was that they were being watched. Henry Lopez was watching them from the porch of his house. And he had a deranged look on his face.
-------------------
After a full hour of sweet, tender lovemaking, Stephen and Grace laid in a sweaty, breathless tangle. Grace was fully pressed into his side, her arm draped around his stomach, with her leg astride his own. She gently kissed his shoulder, and purred into his arm.
"I'll never get tired of that," she whimpered, her voice lightly muffled by his flesh.
"That makes two of us," he muttered in return, still trying to catch his breath.
"I feel sticky all over," she giggled. Stephen looked over at her nude body. There was a glistening layer of sweat covering her breasts that ran down to her belly. Looking back at himself, he noticed much the same, being covered in his own layer of fluids.
"I'd say sorry, but then again, I'm not really sorry for that," he chuckled.
Grace rolled up on her elbow, and looked into his eyes while her fingers traced a line across his stomach. "You complete me, Stephen."
A smile of unbridled joy formed quickly on his lips, and he soon leaned in to give her a long, slow kiss. She returned it just as eagerly, and in that moment, nothing else, or no one else, truly mattered.
Right when Stephen was about to zone out, and possibly fall asleep for a mid afternoon cat nap, the doorbell for the house rang. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he turned to look at Grace, "I wonder who ordered a package?"
Grace shrugged, barely looking up, and reburied herself into his side. Content to just ignore the bell, Stephen closed his eyes once more and tried to nod off into sleep.
Yet, the bell rang again, twice in a row.
Stephen scowled, wondering who or what could be so important in the afternoon. Maybe it was a package that needed signed for, and that's why they were being so persistent. Maybe it was Mormon missionaries, here to try to save his soul. After all, they did come through about every year with their neighborhood walking campaign. He nearly laughed when he imagined asking them about their position on sex genies.
The bell rang one more time, and finally Stephen hopped out of bed. Even missionaries weren't usually this pushy. He quickly searched for a pair of gym shorts to throw on, as well as one of his clean gym shirts.
"Let me see who it is. Just wait here, babe," he said to Grace, who still had her eyes closed, while remaining snuggled into his pillow. She let out a light whimper to let him know she heard.
His feet padded across the carpet towards the hallway, making his way into the kitchen while the bell rang again.
"Keep your damn socks on," he muttered, as he reached the door, and pulled it open. What he saw on the other end made his jaw drop almost the floor.
Standing there, looking no older than the day he had last saw him, was his father, Jerry Willow.
"Hey Stephen. You remember your old man, don't you?" Jerry said, letting out a greasy looking smile as he took in the look of shock on his son's face.
"Dad? Is that really you?" Stephen almost whispered, looking over his father. True to form, not much had changed about his appearance since his last visit over four years prior. Dark and unruly hair stuck out from under a faded Kansas City Royals baseball hat. He wore an old black t-shirt, with a logo for some beer that stopped being made years ago, and a dark pair of blue jeans. They had one thing in common though, the same hazel eyes ran just as strongly with Jerry Willow.
"Of course, it's me, who else would it be," chuckled Jerry, leaning in to give his son a one-armed hug. Stephen awkwardly hugged his father back. "Say, it's good to see you, kid. You staying out of trouble? Is your mother around?" Jerry craned his head to look back into the kitchen, as if to look for her.
Stephen stood aside, letting him enter the house. "I'm good, and no she's not here right now. Working for another couple hours, I think."
"Ah, shame," said Jerry, looking down at the floor with a more calculated look. "No matter. What about the twins? Where are Chris and Chase at?"
"Out since this morning. At the water park for the day," replied Stephen, remembering dropping them off this morning before heading to Price Chopper.
"Having a great time there, no doubt," replied Jerry, before turning to look at his son. "Well, hey, you busy? Let's grab some dinner, okay? Give us a chance to catch up a little. What do you say?"
"Umm, sure Dad. Why not?" replied Stephen, before remembering the sleeping occupant of his room. "Can Grace come with us as well?"
Jerry looked around the kitchen, "Who's Grace?"
Right on cue, Grace came walking into the kitchen, fully dressed thankfully, and came to a stop near the island right next to Stephen. Her eyes flicked between her boyfriend, and the other man standing in the kitchen. There was something different in her gaze this time, though. Something Stephen had never seen from her before: distrust. He quickly made note of it and then introduced her.
"Er, Dad, this is Grace, my girlfriend. Grace, this is my father, Jerry Willow," said Stephen, making the necessary introductions.
Jerry broke out into a large smile, the biggest since he had showed up at the house, "Wow, Stephen, really? She's dating you?" He chuckled to himself slightly, and then cozied up to Grace to take her hand. "A pleasure, Grace. Call me Jerry."
"Hi Jerry," replied Grace in a neutral tone, before looking back at Stephen. The moment could not have been more awkward.
"Yes, Grace, you have to come with us to dinner. There's a great place we can go, not far away. Five minutes tops."
"Sure, we'll go," answered Stephen.
"Great!" Jerry grinned, before looking back at his son. "Why don't you go put on some better clothes? We'll be waiting right here," he said, gesturing to Grace. Stephen felt a flash of anger at the way he was treating Grace, almost as if he was hitting on her in front of him.
Thankfully, Grace didn't take the bait, and coolly responded, "I think I left my purse in your room, babe. I'll come with you."
They left his father standing in the kitchen and returned to his room, shutting the door firmly. Stephen began to rummage for some clothes.
"I can't believe he's here. It's been so long, and he just shows up like this? Out of the blue?" He questioned, while grabbing a pair of pants to put on.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but were you switched at birth or something?" Grace asked, watching him change.
"No, why?"
"I just find it highly unlikely that man could be your father. He seems so... slimy," she shivered to herself, to emphasize her disgust.
Stephen frowned. His father had been back for all of five minutes, and he had already made a bad impression on Grace. Despite his actual reason for being here, Stephen decided to give him a chance. Besides, the last time he had seen him was a good four years ago. So much had changed. He had changed so much. Maybe they could have a real man-to-man discussion and hope for a better relationship in the future.
"Let's give him a chance," he replied finally, as he picked out a light green polo shirt to put on. "Maybe he's just feeling awkward from not seeing me in so long. Maybe it's coming across badly."
Grace shrugged her shoulders, but he could tell she wasn't really convinced. Truth be told, he wasn't really sure if he believed the line he just gave either. Instead, she grabbed him firmly by the hand once he was dressed, and together they walked out back to the kitchen together, finding Jerry looking through one of the drawers in the kitchen.
"Ah, there you two are," he replied, pulling his hand away in almost a guilty fashion. "Just wondering if your mother may have any coupons or something to this restaurant we're about to go to. If you two are ready, let's go!"
The trio headed outside the house, and made their way to Jerry's car, an old Pontiac Sunfire that had seen much better days.
"Grace, why don't you sit in the front? Stephen, you don't mind right? A woman like that shouldn't be pushed into the backseat, you know?" Jerry replied, pulling the seat forward to let his son in the back.
Thankfully, the trip to the restaurant, which was more like a local diner, was only about five minutes long. Stephen had been to this particular diner before, long ago, but he had avoided it as of lately. The fare was substandard and the staff rather gruff. The prices were rock bottom though, unfortunately, just like the food.
"Ah, I missed this place," said Jerry, as their sullen waitress set down their menus at a table. "This old diner always had great food!" He gave a light smack to the table, as if it might verbalize an agreement with him. Stephen just shrugged, as he couldn't remember a time when he had anything beyond half decent food here. This was normally the place they came when they had to make funds stretch into the next payday.
"So, how are you doing, my son? Still working as a stock boy at that grocery store?" Jerry took a full sip of his water, keeping his leveled eyes on his son for the moment.
Stephen nodded, "Yeah, I still work there. But not as a stock clerk anymore. I got promoted to manager just recently." He couldn't help but let slip a little grin full of pride.
"Manager, eh? Not too bad! Run the store as you see fit, right? Almost takes the sting out of not having a real job," replied Jerry, rather callously, before turning to Grace. Stephen watched his eyes flicker down to the front part of her shirt, ogling the view of her cleavage before going back up to her eyes. "And you, my dear? What do you do? Modeling, I take it?"
Grace didn't smile at the compliment. "No, actually, I don't work currently. I am thinking about going back to school though and completing my degree," she replied, using her rehearsed backstory that they had created weeks ago.
"No work or school then? How am I not surprised?" Jerry chuckled, but otherwise didn't care to explain the meaning behind his words. Stephen squinted at him, his brow furrowed, wondering what he was getting at and the intentions behind it.
"So, Dad, what brings you back here? It's been a long time?" Stephen asked, changing the subject to one less focused on his girlfriend.
"Oh, just swinging through really. On my way through back to Denver to go to a job interview, really," he replied, with a wave of his hand.
"Job interview? Something new and promising, Dad?"
Jerry chuckled, "New definitely, but who knows how promising."
"Still working in the IT sales job you had before?"
"Shit no, those assholes canned me," he replied, bluntly, letting his fist fall a little hard on the table. "That's why I need this new interview!"
"Oh, sorry to hear that," replied Stephen, trying his best to emphasize with the man.
"Eh, who needs 'em?" commented Jerry. "You think you know a company. And it's people! But who would have thought someone so close to me like my administrator would turn me in for just a little, tiny bit of embellishment on my expense reports? I mean, a guy's got to eat! Being a traveling salesman is costly! And you would think with the history I had with this woman, she'd show me a little loyalty!"
Stephen bit his tongue, letting his father vent. He wanted to intervene and ask if this was the same administrator that he cheated on his mother with, but decided it was a risky path to take. He glanced over at Grace, who was looking at his father with emotionless eyes. She noticed his gaze, rapidly sweeping the path of her eyes to his, before offering a sympathetic smile. She was thinking the same thing he was, no doubt.
"Sorry, to hear all of that, Dad," replied Stephen finally, as his father took a breather from his rant to take a drink a water.
"Eh, it's hard to find good women out there, Stephen," postured his father, before hazarding a glance down at Grace's cleavage again. When Grace noticed, she pulled her shirt back a little further, cutting off any conceivable view for his lecherous eyes. "Speaking of which, what's your mother up to these days?"
"She's doing pretty good. Work has been good to her lately -" Stephen began, before being interrupted.
"She got a man at all?" He looked at him with level, almost desperate eyes.
"Yeah, she does. We just met him not too long ago. His name is Jim, and we really like him. He's a good man," Grace answered for Stephen, emphasizing the good man part. Jerry's eyes narrowed, a look of dislike forming on his face, before looking back at his son. Grace slipped her hand into Stephen's, giving it a little squeeze.
"I should have figured," Jerry said, finally, in a rare moment of introspection. "Probably needed the money!"
"We're fine on money," Stephen said a bit defiantly. "What she needed was the companionship. It's been really hard on us since you left, Dad. Money has always been tight, but Mom was just as unhappy. And lonely, very lonely."
"How could she be lonely? She had you and the twins to keep her company!" He argued.
Stephen shook his head, "Not that kind of company, Dad. She needed real love."
"Bah," replied Jerry, waving his hand dismissively. "Love is overrated. And she has a man now for money. What's this guy do for work?"
"Sales as well. Farm equipment. Harvesters and tractors and the like," answered Stephen.
"Sales too? What's with her and being attracted to salesmen, right?" Jerry laughed, trying hard to make a joke. Neither Stephen nor Grace cared to indulge him in a laughter even out of pity.
Jerry took another drink of his water, before continuing on, "My point being is that love is overrated, son. Your mother and I had love at one time, and nothing to show for it. Love just makes people feel good about staying with the same person long term. The reality is that things get stagnant really quick. Only false feelings of 'love' keep people from moving on with their lives."