Just Think Happy Thoughts
Ch. 5: Dominoes
Ray Toro pushed his glasses up his nose and fixed the teenage girl in front of him with a questioning look. “So, you’re saying that you managed to convince Gerard, your completely batshit-insane overprotective father, to let you drive an outmoded tour van across the country and back again by yourself?”
Elena gave her uncle a crooked grin. “Yup. Talented, ain’t I?”
“Right. And I suppose that neither the fact that your mother helped or that you’re Daddy’s little girl had anything to do with it.” Mr. Toro refocused his attention back to his acoustic guitar, strumming at the strings gently.
“That is not the point. The point is that we’ve got two of us so far with permission to go on this trip, and we’d like for Rosie and Manny to be the next ones on the list.”
“Wait, two of you?”
“Pfft, Melody’s a grown woman; her parents don’t have to authorize shit for her anymore.”
“Do your parents know you talk like that?”
“Uncle Ray, where do you think I learned it?”
“…good point. Well…I suppose since Melody will be going, you won’t be completely without adult supervision. And despite RoRo’s current state of self-absorption, I think the twins are mature enough for this.”
The smile widened across Elena’s face, and she lunged forward to hug her uncle around the neck. “Thanks much, Uncle Ray. You won’t regret your decision.”
“I imagine I won’t, sweetheart. Eh, I’ve heard that Pete’s kid has become something of a saint, so maybe her good vibes will rub off on RoRo.” Mr. Toro let go of his niece and pointed her out the door with the neck of his guitar. “Now get the fuck out, I’m giving a guitar lesson in ten minutes.”
~*
“I’m cool with it if you’re cool with it.” Bob Bryar stood at his kitchen counter, coffee mug clutched in his braced right hand.
Kat Bryar looked up from her paperwork at the kitchen table. “Sure, I’m cool with it.” She looked over at Tony, standing in the doorway. “As long as there are no drugs or alcohol, and you make sure my Danny doesn’t come back with a venereal disease.”
“Wow…that was easy,” Tony chuckled. “Thanks, Uncle Bob, Aunt Kat. You guys are way more laidback than MY parents.”
~*
“Not a chance in Hell, Tony.” Jamia Iero chopped furiously at the celery for that evening’s dinner.
“But Mooooooooooooooooom, all the other kids have permission!”
Mrs. Iero glared at her son. “That is the oldest argument in the world, Frank Anthony. Shit, I think I used it once on my own parents. And I know your father’s used it. ‘Aw, but Dad, all the other guys blew off having normal careers so they could play in VFW halls and basements.’ I thought your grandpa was going to strangle him.”
“Yes, and what was the outcome of that decision?”
“That situation is completely different. That was your father following his dreams. This is you wanting to drive off across the country in a busted-up van so you can attend the birthday party of a girl you haven’t seen since you were ten. Are you even technically invited?”
“Well…technically only Rosie was invited, but she hasn’t seen her for that long either. From what I hear LilaAnne’s undergone some sort of personality overhaul and stopped being such a spoilt brat.”
Jamia rolled her eyes. “God knows the poor girl had barely any chance at all at normalcy, considering who her parents are.”
The little wheels went to turning in Tony’s head. “Yes, she comes from bad stock.” He wrapped his arms tightly around his mother and laid his head against her shoulder. “But I come from very good stock. I’m a very good little boy, and you know this, Mama. If you let me go, I can promise you that I’ll be nice to waiters, and eat from the four food groups, and stay away from bad people.”
His mother frowned and slowed her chopping. “You are by far too much like your father.”
“I know, the old bastard taught me well. Where is he, by the way?”
“I believe he’s guest-teaching for Toro right now, something about punk chord progressions. His answer will most likely be yes.”
“And…yours is still no?”
Mrs. Iero sighed and resumes chopping. “My answer right now is maybe. It won’t necessarily mutate into a yes, but it is leaning in your favor.”
Tony chuckled happily and kissed his mom on the cheek. “You’re an angel, Mom.”
“I know, babe, I know.”
Elena gave her uncle a crooked grin. “Yup. Talented, ain’t I?”
“Right. And I suppose that neither the fact that your mother helped or that you’re Daddy’s little girl had anything to do with it.” Mr. Toro refocused his attention back to his acoustic guitar, strumming at the strings gently.
“That is not the point. The point is that we’ve got two of us so far with permission to go on this trip, and we’d like for Rosie and Manny to be the next ones on the list.”
“Wait, two of you?”
“Pfft, Melody’s a grown woman; her parents don’t have to authorize shit for her anymore.”
“Do your parents know you talk like that?”
“Uncle Ray, where do you think I learned it?”
“…good point. Well…I suppose since Melody will be going, you won’t be completely without adult supervision. And despite RoRo’s current state of self-absorption, I think the twins are mature enough for this.”
The smile widened across Elena’s face, and she lunged forward to hug her uncle around the neck. “Thanks much, Uncle Ray. You won’t regret your decision.”
“I imagine I won’t, sweetheart. Eh, I’ve heard that Pete’s kid has become something of a saint, so maybe her good vibes will rub off on RoRo.” Mr. Toro let go of his niece and pointed her out the door with the neck of his guitar. “Now get the fuck out, I’m giving a guitar lesson in ten minutes.”
~*
“I’m cool with it if you’re cool with it.” Bob Bryar stood at his kitchen counter, coffee mug clutched in his braced right hand.
Kat Bryar looked up from her paperwork at the kitchen table. “Sure, I’m cool with it.” She looked over at Tony, standing in the doorway. “As long as there are no drugs or alcohol, and you make sure my Danny doesn’t come back with a venereal disease.”
“Wow…that was easy,” Tony chuckled. “Thanks, Uncle Bob, Aunt Kat. You guys are way more laidback than MY parents.”
~*
“Not a chance in Hell, Tony.” Jamia Iero chopped furiously at the celery for that evening’s dinner.
“But Mooooooooooooooooom, all the other kids have permission!”
Mrs. Iero glared at her son. “That is the oldest argument in the world, Frank Anthony. Shit, I think I used it once on my own parents. And I know your father’s used it. ‘Aw, but Dad, all the other guys blew off having normal careers so they could play in VFW halls and basements.’ I thought your grandpa was going to strangle him.”
“Yes, and what was the outcome of that decision?”
“That situation is completely different. That was your father following his dreams. This is you wanting to drive off across the country in a busted-up van so you can attend the birthday party of a girl you haven’t seen since you were ten. Are you even technically invited?”
“Well…technically only Rosie was invited, but she hasn’t seen her for that long either. From what I hear LilaAnne’s undergone some sort of personality overhaul and stopped being such a spoilt brat.”
Jamia rolled her eyes. “God knows the poor girl had barely any chance at all at normalcy, considering who her parents are.”
The little wheels went to turning in Tony’s head. “Yes, she comes from bad stock.” He wrapped his arms tightly around his mother and laid his head against her shoulder. “But I come from very good stock. I’m a very good little boy, and you know this, Mama. If you let me go, I can promise you that I’ll be nice to waiters, and eat from the four food groups, and stay away from bad people.”
His mother frowned and slowed her chopping. “You are by far too much like your father.”
“I know, the old bastard taught me well. Where is he, by the way?”
“I believe he’s guest-teaching for Toro right now, something about punk chord progressions. His answer will most likely be yes.”
“And…yours is still no?”
Mrs. Iero sighed and resumes chopping. “My answer right now is maybe. It won’t necessarily mutate into a yes, but it is leaning in your favor.”
Tony chuckled happily and kissed his mom on the cheek. “You’re an angel, Mom.”
“I know, babe, I know.”
♠ ♠ ♠
So, this story's going much faster than most of my others, because I've been writing it pretty much exclusively for World of Fiction. I suppose you could say it's popular over there, so I thought I'd see how it's liked here....less than well-received, thusfar...