Double or Nothing Pt. 03

[:::: Authors Note :::: ]

Welcome to Part III of Double of Nothing. Thank you for all the great comments around Part I and Part II. For those of you who have asked, I am seeing this as a five-part series. And yes, the last part was a little sappy and clichéd, but I did point that out to you all at the beginning.

If you haven't read Part I or Part II, click on my profile and give them a read; it will provide you with some context for what you are about to read and those of you who like to point out where laws, plot lines or story points could never happen in real life. You are right; however, in this world that I am writing, it can happen; I am enjoying learning to write and tell a story, and since I have a full-time job and a family to look after, I don't get enough time to research everything, so I do make compromises. A big thank you to Kite for helping me edit!

Let's pick up with Terry meeting with Mackenzie, Carol and Stephen at a coffee shop.

I hope you enjoy Part III of Double or Nothing.

[:::: End of Part II ::::]

"What's so funny?"

Standing in the doorway was Mackenzie. She had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face that reminded me of her mother last time we spoke. Looking at her, even a little before seven in the morning, she was dressed up in designer clothes, had a half dozen rings on her fingers and a big gold necklace around her neck. Her hair was held up with an expensive hair tie, and to me, it looked like she was wearing a lot of makeup for a fifteen-year-old girl.

I could see that her mother and her new father, Dr Stephen Morrison, the dickhead, were coming up behind her. They hadn't seen me yet, but it was only a matter of moments. Suddenly the smile dropped from my face.

Shit!

[ ::: Double or Nothing Part III ::::]

For a moment, I sat there studying the face of the girl I once thought I knew; she had changed so much in the months since I had seen her last. Sure, some of those changes were likely teenage hormones, but most of it was her mother and the dickheads influence. In another year, she would be unrecognizable as the happy daughter that I once raised.

She must have wondered if I caught her question as before her mother and adopted father could arrive. She looked at me, and I looked back; the sneer that developed on her face looked way too much like Dr Dickhead for my taste.

"I said, what's so funny?" she repeated.

"Mackenzie, you shouldn't be so rude..." her mother started saying, walking in the door, then saw me, "Oh, Terry." She looked at me for a few seconds, her face dropped. Dr Dickhead, aka Dr Stephen Morrison, then noticed me. Still, before he could say anything supporting the developing sneer on his face, a look that almost matched his new daughter. Mackenzie stepped in and showed me that we genuinely were no longer related.

"Don't worry, mother, anything I say to him." She pointed at me, "wouldn't be rude. I figured that since the asshole was laughing, I would find out what was so funny!"

I was stunned by the language she used. The dickhead looked at me, then laughed, hearing Mackenzie's words and seeing the look on my face. He was having trouble holding in a look of glee. The few morning patrons in the store looked at a teenager showing disrespect to someone and shook their heads. I was surprised at one thing though, Carol looked embarrassed.

I shook my head and recovered; sighing, I looked at the three of them, then stared at my former daughter. "What I am laughing at is nothing that you need to worry about, Mackenzie."

Even with such a simple response, both Dr Dickhead and Mackenzie rallied, ready to have a go at me. Dr Dickhead, in particular, started tensing up his body, shoulders rolling like he gearing up for a fight. Thinking things might go south, I switched apps on my phone, hit video record and put my phone away into my t-shirt pocket. The top of my phone was poking out with the camera lens pointed towards what I was looking at. I looked silly, but I now had a recording, just in case.

"What did you say, asshole?" Mackenzie repeated the insult.

She now had a smug smile on her face, acting like she was bullying a kid on the playground at school. I looked at her like a strange kid off the street, giving me lip but looking for a backhand.

"Mackenzie, when did you ever learn such disrespect for people in a public place." I shook my head, unfolding myself from my seat and standing in front of her. "I don't understand it, and how can you be so rude as to gain the disdain of everyone else watching?" I asked, gesturing to the other patrons of the café.

Then, looking directly at her, for a moment, her arrogance withered as she came to realize what I was saying. She looked nervously around, seeing the peoples' stares as they looked at her, some nodding in agreement at my statement.

I looked at her, put my hands on my hips and put my dad voice on, "I asked you, young lady, when did it become the right thing to treat people with such disrespect in public regardless of who they are or your feelings towards them? I raised you better than that." I told her.

She was now looking unsure of herself, but then the dickhead stepped in.

He bristled at his own self-importance. "Mackenzie can call you an asshole, asshole! Because she's my daughter, not yours." He sneered at me again. "And it's not disrespect to call a piece of shit like you whatever she wants, regardless of the location.

"Besides cuck boy," he chuckled at his reference, "I thought since your wife and daughter left you for me, a greater man," he puffed out his fat chest, his hands tapping his fat pecks. "That you couldn't stand it here, so you tucked tail and ran away at your first opportunity. So, what the fuck do you think you're doing back here in my town, asshole?"

He was now strutting pridefully about the café, holding himself like the dictator of a small country. For myself, I began to feel rage that I was working hard to reign in.

I was built solid and well-muscled, having spent years as a tradesman working construction sites. Even in my new job working for Delotiz Inc as their quality manager, I still did a lot of heavy lifting helping out the floor staff. As a result, I kept most of my tone and muscle mass. The dickhead, by comparison, was short and rotund; he was a surgeon at the Maitland hospital and, for some reason, when it came to me, had a superiority complex that didn't know when to quit.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had an affair with Carol, my now ex-wife, for almost two years. He had convinced her to leave me, or maybe it was that he and Carol convinced Mackenzie to betray me and have him adopt her, taking everything that I held dear that made him think he was better than me. Or perhaps he felt that he was better than me since I was just a plumber and he was a doctor. But in a fair fight, there was no doubt that I would clean his clock in seconds. He was just too stupid; the stick shoved too far up his ass to understand that.

By now, several customers had gotten fed up with the scene and were walking out. I must admit that I would have done the same if I was in their position. The café staff were standing there, not knowing where to look. Carol was looking a little shy, but she was still standing by dickhead; Mackenzie was looking reenergized with her adopted father's rant at me.

I sighed for the third time in as many minutes and thought the softer approach might diffuse the situation. "Not that it's any of your business. However, I came to visit my parents."

The dickhead laughed. "Ah yes, the poor fucking excuses for grandparents that rejected my beautiful daughter when I brought her to visit them." He had a big self-satisfied smile on his face feeling superior.

My face went beet red, and I would have knocked him out in another two seconds for that comment had the waitress at the counter not called my name, looking a little panicked about the escalating situation. However, the momentary distraction allowed me to pull back from punching him into next week. 'Deep breath', I told myself, disengaging from the aggravating trio.

I walked over to the counter, picking up the food and coffee. I mouthed the words "Sorry" to the poor worried girl behind the counter. She gave me a small smile, thankful for my comment. "Okay, I'm leaving now." I made sure it looked like I was addressing everyone in the room, but it was primarily for the recording occurring in my pocket.

I said nothing as I walked past everyone, including my three antagonists, briskly moving outside into the early Saturday morning air. I hoped that the confrontation was done. I could walk away and chalk the meeting up to an unfortunate run-in. But nope, Dr Dickhead just had to keep pushing. As I got a dozen steps from the café. He turned to follow me and called out.

"Hey, where do you think you're going asshole," he spat. "I am not done with you yet, and you don't get to walk away until I tell you." He was almost shuffling, trying to catch up. "So now that your fucking piss ant sponsors aren't here to protect you, you're in my town now, and you'll do what I fucking say!" He was, of course, referring to William and Martha, who had caused him a lot of grief after our first meeting.

I turned, looking at him, cocking my head to the side; the guy was delusional. He had Carol by the hand while Mackenzie was following close behind. For her part, Mackenzie's arms were crossed over her chest in a defiant teenage pose.

While I didn't want to, I again tried to deescalate the salutation, if nothing more than for the video. I hurled words that, even as they rolled off my tongue, made me feel like I could vomit. "Listen, Stephen; I don't want any trouble, you want to hear it fine, you won. My wife and daughter," I shifted my gaze to them, then back to the dickhead. "They betrayed me in one of the coldest ways possible and chose you over me. I lost, and right now, I don't want to be anywhere near any of you."

I looked at Mackenzie and felt an aching in my chest, sorrow at what I had lost. "In less than a year, you have managed to take one of my proudest achievements and turn her into a self-centred conniving little bitch who by the time she becomes an adult will wonder why she's had a dozen different boyfriends and can't get any of them to stay more than a month." Mackenzie's arms dropped, and she went a little pale as her mother did inside the store. "She will wonder why the friends she has only want to talk to her when they want something and why they will ignore her if she ever wants a heart to heart if there is nothing in it for them."

Dr Dickhead laughed.

"You're an idiot cuck boy," he responded. "My daughter will have the pick of the boys, and she can date who she wants for however long she wants. When it comes to friends, because she's MY daughter and not the daughter of a pathetic plumber, she already has more friends than she can count compared to when she was with you. And she's not selfish. She's confident." He leant towards me and said quietly, "That's all thanks to me!"

I shook my head; this poor excuse for fatherhood had no idea. He thought being a father was all about them making him look good or just that his presence would make them better. I would bet that helping her was something he never thought about. What was scary is that he would likely lash out at either Carol or Mackenzie when he didn't get what he wanted at some point.

Unfortunately, his little speech and berating of me had encouraged both Mackenzie and Carol. At the mention of privilege, Carol lost her earlier shame around her daughter's behaviour and joined in. Carol looked me up and down, first at my casual shorts and t-shirt, the pluggas on my feet, then over at my truck and shook her head.

"You talk about behaviour, but you should be thinking about your presentation. Look at you, Terry, not even a year after our divorce, you're dressed like a homeless bum, and you're driving the same old truck." Then, she snickered, "I bet you don't even have a job, and you've moved back with your parents because you have blown all the divorce money."

I shook my head again mournfully; they had no idea. Furthermore, Dr Dickhead couldn't help it and just jumped right in, thinking that Carol had pegged my situation correctly.

"Ha, so it comes to pass that you're such a pathetic fucking loser you have spent all your money." He said jovially. "I hope that doesn't include my daughter's university money." He shook his head in a mock show of piety. "How your mother and father must be ashamed to have such a poor example of a son. No wonder my girls left you for me!"

I growled. "My parents have nothing to do with this, and that is not her money, nor is it yours, and what I do with it is of no concern to any of you," I said firmly but quietly, the warning of my growing anger being missed by them.

"Like hell, it isn't, you fucking little prick." he all but exploded at me. Funny calling me little while he had to look up at me. "You should have just handed it over when you were supposed to and then fucked off to whatever shit hole you fucking plumbers go to."

He sniffed the air toward me, thinking he had a sense of humour. "I bet it smells like piss and shit just like you do." He put on a mock chivalrous accent. He threw his pudgy hands out in a mock gesture of benevolence. "I rescued these poor damsels in distress and lifted them out of the shitty mud you lived in. I gave them purpose!" he dropped his hands and then gave me a 'death' stare, thinking to intimidate me.

"And that fucking money was not yours. It was my daughters, asshole. You were supposed to give it to us," the dickhead snarled. Then he smiled, "But no worry, the courts will see it mine!" he said in triumph, referring to his recent attempt to sue me for a large amount of money I had put away over the years for Mackenzie's university one day. Unfortunately for them, the courts had decided that as Mackenzie wanted to be adopted by the dickhead and I was the only one who ever put into the account, they were not welcome to the significant chunk of change residing in it.

My hand started to strangle the bag holding the breakfast wraps, and I steadied the cardboard coffee tray I was holding. I was getting more agitated by the second, this piss poor excuse for a man was just a tub of lard, and I am sure a lot of this theatre was to try and provoke me. If anything, he had put on more weight since I saw him at the hospital almost a year ago. I counted to ten, breathing in and out, staring at him. Carol, for the second time that morning, went white. She had seen me angry a few times, and while I had only had a couple of fights in my life, she knew that I could throw a punch or take one if needed. She could see this ending badly and put her arm on her new husband's fleshy forearm.

"Stephen, darling. Let's leave the poor man alone; he's already feeling bad that he lost Mackenzie and me." Perhaps the words were supposed to make him stand down, but it encouraged him.

He crowed and laughed. "Yeah, he lost, I won. But, tell you what, asshole. If I ever take a shit so bad it needs cleaning, I'll give you a call, but unless you give me that money, don't come to any hospital near me, or I'll make sure that you get the wrong medication and never leave!"

I was startled; he just threatened to kill me if I had to go to the hospital. "Did you just threaten me, Dr Morrison?" With every fibre of my being, I wanted to punch him into next week, but I needed to stay calm and in control for the recording.

Mackenzie then decided to jump in and continue the verbal barrage, not clever of her.

"My father doesn't threaten asshole. If he says don't go to his hospital, or you will never leave, then it's a promise!" she spat.

"She's right," the dickhead said and nodded his head sagely.

I think he was missing the issue of what he had just admitted. Even if I didn't have a recording, which of course, I did, just the accusation of him threatening someone in a hospital would be a scandal that he could never shake.

But he couldn't keep his stupid mouth shut and continued. "That's a promise, asshole. No one will know when I give you the wrong medication. Without your rich pricks to protect you, no one will even question me."

He then took a step up to me, raising his fist at me. "You had the audacity, with your bitch of a sister, to threaten me on my fucking turf, my hospital, you prick. You caused me to be put on probation for two years, two fucking years with no additional money, but I still have to work all the hours. So, you owe me, and I'm going to take it out of your hide or your blood. So no, it's not a threat. It's a fucking promise!" He threw his arms wide. "You are dead fucking meat because I'm the fucking king round here. You're just a fucking shitty plumber that no one in the world gives a shit about; if they did, my girls here wouldn't be with me, would they?"

He put his arms down and went to turn away, then quickly turned back and flicked his fat arm upwards, knocking my coffee tray backwards and into me, spilling the hot liquid all over me. He smiled, then turned and walked away, "Common girls, let's leave the fucking plumber in the mud where he belongs!"

Mackenzie walked away with dickhead, but Carol came over to me as I bent down to pick up the spilled cups, they were now almost empty, but I couldn't leave rubbish on the ground. She put her hands on hips and stared at me; her stare alone felt like she would try to melt me if she could.

"You couldn't leave it alone, could you, Terry." She said in an exasperated tone.

I stood back up, dripping with hot coffee and faced my ex-wife. "Leave what alone, Carol?"

"Us, him...." She gestured wildly around, "you just had to antagonize Stephen, didn't you? Just get it through your thick head, Mackenzie, and I are his now, not yours!"

I stood back up, slipping my phone from my shitty little front shirt pocket to my shorts pocket.

I sighed. I was doing that a lot this morning, "Carol, I don't know if you witnessed the same conversation I did. However, I tried to walk away a few times. I never spoke in a derogatory way to you, Mackenzie, or your poor excuse for a husband." I looked at her and noted for the recording, "and never at any point did I threaten him or raise my fists to him as he did to me." My phone was still recording in my shorts pocket. I hoped it would pick up this part of the conversation.

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter. I chose him over you, so your mere presence antagonizes him thinking I could leave him to come back to you."

I laughed at her; my presence antagonised him, really. "You choose a self-obsessed fat tub of lard over me?" I gave her an incredulous smile and shook my head. "Tell pencil dick that he's got nothing to worry about. I would never have a cheating skank like you back in my life!" She took a step back at my rebuke.

"You really think that I would ever take you back? Fuck no. Someone who would toss me away like yesterday's newspaper without a second thought after years together. You think I could ever take someone who disrespected so badly back into my life." I shook my head, dismissing her. "Go away Carol. You disgust me."

She was still standing there, not sure what to make of me. Perhaps she thought I could forgive her stupidity. I was pretty sure that I would never forgive her. Maybe someday in the far future, I might not be as angry about it, but forgiveness, I don't know that could ever happen.

"If you thought I came back for you, you're kidding yourself. I only came back because of mum's...." I had started talking without thinking, then stopped, about to spill the beans about my mum's cancer. I looked at Carol; she picked up on that last part.