“Oh hell no, Dad!! That’s some fucked up shit. Please don’t bring up stories about Mom.”
Rocky roared. Motherfucker. “C’mon Lex, Elijah said your mom’s a MILF!"
“I DID NOT!” Elijah blushed. Fucker.
“Well, I don’t blame you. She still knows how to...” My dad trailed off but I was quick to put a stop to this conversation.
“We could talk about Charlie then. Would that be more suited?” Rocky asked.
I knew all eyes were on me. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I motioned for him to pour me another shot which he did. It burned. I banged the shot glass on the table for another. Rocky looked at my father who just sat there amused. Pouring another this time, I took it quicker and it no longer burned its way through.
“What exactly do you want to talk about, Rocky? The way I fucked her on her desk or the way she fucked me on mine? Tell me, I’m sure you’ll have a good old laugh.” My tone was bitter, no matter what I couldn’t escape her. But I had to try because I couldn’t go on like this, trapped in this nightmare.
“Dude, look, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t think so.”
This party had hit a low point. I grabbed the bottle and poured the shots. Placing my arm around Elijah’s shoulder I made a toast. “To Elijah. Thank fuck I can officially hand over my sister to you. Cheers!” We raised our glasses, then swallowed the drink.
The night kicked off with the guys playing poker and the topless waitresses serving us buffalo wings and other deep fried wonders. After losing a thousand bucks to the nerdy sci-fi dude, I grabbed a bourbon and walked onto the balcony. It was impressive, the color of the swimming pool, lit up as the LED lights surrounded it. It looked so refreshing, the Vegas night life spread out in front of me. As I leaned against the glass railing, the dry Vegas heat did nothing to ease the tension I was feeling.
“So it’s a touchy subject then.”
“Look Dad, there’s nothing left to say. It’s over between us.”
“Never figured you for a quitter.” His words stung. I wasn’t a quitter but I also wasn’t going to stand by and get my shit stomped on either. Where the hell was this interrogation coming from? From him, of all people?
“Can’t always have what you want,” I sighed.
“So you want her then?”
“Dad, just drop the charade. You never liked her, you were never shy to admit that. It’s over between us. Nothing more left to be said. We tried again and it didn’t work. It’s just not meant to happen.”
He took a swig of his scotch. I could smell the stale liquid; scotch wasn’t my taste. His odd behavior towards me didn’t go unnoticed. “Did I ever tell you the story about how your mother and I met?”
“No,” I answered quietly.
“I was quite a player back in the day. I spent most of my mid to late teens screwing everything in sight. When I went to college I used the whole doctor thing to my advantage, of course. Worked like a charm with the ladies. So one day I met this girl, Cassandra. She was just one big bag of fun. She tamed me. I studied hard and she was everything the other girls weren’t, so I proposed and she said yes. On the night of our engagement party I finally met her family. I was freaking out over meeting her parents so it never occurred to me that it was her sister I should be worried about.”
“Holy shit, are you talking about Aunt Cassie?” Shocked, I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Yes. Her sister, your mother, was the most beautiful woman I had ever met in my life. The moment I saw her I was in awe. Drove me crazy. She was shy but so unbelievably kind-hearted. I fell in love. We started seeing each other behind Cassie’s back but one day we were caught and all hell broke loose. Emily was disowned by her family and the whole town. It was hell.”
“But worth going to hell and back?”
“Worth every second, but son, I didn’t want that for you or for Charlie. I thought I was doing you a favor. I thought you would get over it.”
“But I didn't,” I whispered.
“No you didn't.”
The revelation of his intentions left us with an awkward silence. It didn’t last long as Rocky ran onto the balcony squealing like a woman. “She’s here, she’s here!” With Rocky it only meant one thing: stripper.
We sat at the bar when suddenly we heard the crack of a whip. Holy fuck, what the hell? Elijah was waiting, holding his breath, worry plastered on his face. The crack of the whip the second time echoed throughout the room.
“My name is Madame Kiska,” she said in a dominant tone. Her thick Russian accent was somewhat sexy. Kiska sounded familiar. I laughed to myself. Kiska meant pussy in Russian. She was Madame Pussy. Rocky sat there wide-eyed and ready for whatever she would dish out, Elijah the complete opposite. She ran her finger along Elijah’s jaw, the latex making a slight sound. Cupping his chin, she squeezed it tight and whispered something in his face before slapping him.
I struggled to hold my laughter in, but her icy stare put me in my place. Rocky sat there like he had ants in his pants. The music played and she did her act on each one of us. The alcohol kept coming and, much to my amusement, even my dad participated. He laughed as she cracked her whip and I could swear on my life she broke out of character a few times and smiled at him. Elijah’s friends enjoyed themselves; these guys probably never got laid. One of them kept rubbing his crotch, no shit, his hard-on pointed out like an eyesore. I swear, fucking bu