"Stay with me! Does the sight of a man scare you?
Or do you take this one for an enemy?"

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation. Book 6, Lines 213-214.
Used without permission.
 

LANGLY:

Oh man, I don't wanna go home, because that means it's Sunday night and tomorrow's Monday and I don't want it to be Monday...can't we just do this weekend sort of like 'Groundhog Day,' where we have to keep doing it over and over until we get it right?

Not that we didn't get it right. It was great. But hey, practice makes perfect. I could've stood more practice.

Plus maybe then I'd get better at sleeping on the ground again. What the hell happened? Used to never bother me. Now it's like, aargh.

Least we didn't get too bad a sunburn this weekend. I got the most, and it's not bad. I'm just sort of pink across my nose and cheeks and on the tops of my legs and arms. Ally says I got some freckles popping out.

Yecch. I hate 'em. Patrick's got some, and they're cute on him, but he's just a little guy.

Who's totally beat. He's snoozing away in the back seat, got his head in Miranda's lap. She and Shelby aren't asleep, but they've got their portable CD players stuck on their heads and it's pretty damn quiet.

We packed up like half an hour ago and now we're headed back to Virginia. God, I don't wanna go. I keep having this sick feeling in my gut like we're gonna get there, and find out something got fucked up over the weekend...like the house burned down or one of the cats died or something...

Oh fuck. I'm probably just being morbid 'cause I'm nervous about work tomorrow. I really don't wanna do this. I got no idea what's gonna happen, and I don't like it when I'm clueless. Knowledge is power, and right now, I haven't got any.

And Frohike's gonna kick my ass for just bailing out for the weekend.

Oh fuck him. Just because he never takes off doesn't mean I don't get to.

Ally asks me if I'm okay, I lie and say, yeah.

She looks killer good. She only got pink on her nose, and it looks cute on her. How come she never gets freckles? She's the redhead here. And they'd look good on her.

Plus I got to look at her in her bikini all weekend, never a bad thing. And once we could get the kids out for the count, we could do all those great things...

That probably killed my fucking back.

Ah, but what a way to go. And there's always Advils.

Last night we went skinny dipping, which is illegal in Maryland, but I guess only if you get caught, which we didn't. That was so awesome. Naked Ally rising out of the water like some flame-headed nymph...oh yeah. Thinking about that, I feel better, but only for a second. I got this sense of dread and it keeps washing back over me like some fucking tidal wave that won't get lost.

Between my back and my anxiety, I'm gonna be lucky to sleep at all tonight. And I'm tired. Out by the water, that does it to you. It's good tired, but only if you can sleep it off. That's not looking real likely right now.

Even Ally's snoozing. She's snoring a little, she's been sounding like she's catching a cold all weekend, said she had a sore throat but thought being out in the sun would do it good. She also claimed the bottle of Jose Cuervo we downed last night would have disinfectant properties. Sure, whatever. Hope it works. We did enough body contact that if she gets sick, she's gonna give it to me, and that's all I need right now. Not.

Sun's almost all the way down now, and I'm four miles from the Virginia state line, which means we're lots closer to home than I'd like.

It's weird. Normally I'm like, I can't wait to go home. I love my home. It's great.

And it's really mine, and that's the weirdest part.

We're back in Virginia, seven miles to go.

I'm thinking, maybe we should just turn around and head back to the beach...
 

BYERS:

I've really wanted to get back sooner. I would like to see Frohike. Genie's been checking on him every few hours; apparently he's doing as well as expected, but I would feel more reassured if I could see him myself.

Still, it has been pleasant to be away. We've spent a lot of time in bed, and many of the guests checked out early-checkout time is 11, but Genie told us to stay as long as we liked, and she did it in a voice that suggested it was a command, not an offer.

And bribing us with her cooking didn't hurt. Last night, she said, don't come to dinner, I've got a surprise for both of you later.

We had to wait until nearly 9, but it was well worth it.

Lobsters, fresh. With summer corn and new potatoes and hot fresh bread. I don't know if lobster is considered to be an aphrodisiac, but it seemed to work, with a vengeance. A wonderful Merlot to accompany it.   And for dessert, the piece de resistance...chocolate cake. But not just any old chocolate cake. This cake was called "Mort du Chocolat," which is Death by
Chocolate...and it was. But I promise you'd die happy. Three layers of dark, dense chocolate cake, not overly sweet but oozing with fresh butter, interspersed with sweet chocolate buttercream and coated with fudge.

I foolishly had two slices, which means my jeans are a bit tighter today than I'd like, but was it worth it?

Do you have to ask?

And that wasn't the end of the damage she inflicted upon us. We came downstairs at noon to find cheese blintzes with fresh strawberries, hash brown potatoes, blueberry muffins, Virginia ham, fresh-squeezed orange juice and plenty of coffee waiting for us.

It's a good thing I don't have her for a personal chef. I'd weigh 400 pounds in no time. But if one must get fat, this is the way to do it.

And she's doing the catering for the wedding reception. I remember the feast we had at Langly's wedding, and now that I've seen more of her repertoire...

I might be the first hungry bridegroom in history.

We requested that she make the cake for the wedding. She just smiled, she said, don't you worry none 'bout the eatin.'

I don't trust her, but I do adore what she can do in the kitchen.

"None of my clothes are going to fit," Juliet complains as we drive back towards home.

"I'm there," I assure her. I mentally go over which of my suits are looser than others...I do have to work tomorrow...start of the semester.

For which I feel ill-prepared, and the thought of starting up is making me feel vaguely out of sorts. As enjoyable as it's been to spend time lounging in bed and filling my stomach, I've still felt this way much of the day, and I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's Genie. While I'm skeptical of her...talents, some of the things she says are eerily on target. And not in a general sense, such as when you read the horoscope pages and it's so general that of course it fits. No, she has specific details about us. This unnerves me.

I need to check up on this woman. I know, that sounds ungracious and horrible, particularly after we accepted her hospitality...

And she wouldn't accept our Visa card. Or American Express. Or cash.

We enjoyed this weekend treat gratis.

I can't explain this. Great food, great sex, plenty of sleep...and I woke up with this feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Of course, worrying about Frohike wasn't helping. While we've been following him from a distance, I'd be much more comfortable if I could see him in person.

Unfortunately, it's too late in the evening for that. I'll have to see him tomorrow on my lunch hour. Provided I can escape from my office, which, on the first day of the semester, is a huge challenge.

Maybe Juliet wouldn't mind if we swung by and checked in with Michael, unless of course Michael is at the hospital with his father.

I know he starts classes tomorrow, though, and from what I know of Frohike, he'll chase the boy out of there at a reasonable hour.

Juliet tries to raise Michael at his home, on her cell, and has no luck. We try the offices. Nobody's answering, but that doesn't mean no one is around. Ally and Langly have to be back by now. We try their home number.

Success. Ally answers the phone; she sounds a little hoarse, and a little upset.

She must have just found out. I ask her if Michael is there.

"Yeah, he's here, he's talking to Langly, let me get him."

He comes on, Ally's told him it's me.

"Dude. Suppose you know by now, I think the whole fucking world does."

He sounds terrible. Exhausted and strained to breaking.

"How're you doing, Michael?"

"Shitty. Next question."

Definitely not in a good mood.

"So you're not staying with your father tonight?"

"Nope. Doesn't want me there. He's got a lady with him." This is said almost as if the words taste foul.

"A lady."

"Yeah. Martha somebody or other."

I'm wondering...I know that when Juliet and I spent a few days with Frohike, after our apartment was destroyed in the tornado, he alluded to the fact that there was someone he was interested in...

But this woman was married, he had indicated. Meaning absolutely hands off.

So where did this woman materialize out of?

"Have you met her before?"

"Think so. She was one of your nurses when you were way out of it."

Well, I doubt I would remember anyone from when I was in a coma...

"Well, perhaps she's there to do some nursing." Michael sounds so distressed, I'll try anything to comfort him.

"I'm sure." The voice is more of a snort. The tone combines hard scoffing with deep hurt...and jealousy? "Listen, dude, gotta go, I got school tomorrow, you wanna talk to Langly?"

"Sure." Michael screams for him, nearly deafening me in the process. He does this a few more times and I'll need Ally's services on a permanent basis.

"Hey. Heard you bailed out for the weekend, too. See what happens when we try to have a little fun?"

"No kidding. Have you seen him yet?"

"Nope, just got back. Still got sand all over me. I was gonna head over, but Michael says he's got a...guest of the female persuasion."

"So he mentioned."

"Didn't know the Fro was doing anyone."

"I didn't, either."

"Good, because if you were withholding any gossip from me, I'd have to kill you."

One thing about Langly: No matter how bad things are, he'll always say something to make you laugh. And I do.

"Would I do that to you, Langly?"

"Yes, you would. Anyway, I'm gonna try and get over there tomorrow after work, I'll call and check on him in a while before I crash, in the meantime I got to get the kid in the shower."

"Have fun."

"Remember when clean was like a crime?"

Not really...I don't think I was ever young that way.

"No, but I'm sure you do."

"Gotta go, dude. Tomorrow."

He seems more nervous than usual...but this isn't surprising in view of Frohike's condition.

Juliet leans over with a concerned look on her face. "What's wrong with Frohike?"

"His ulcer bled out...he was in pretty bad shape. It took a couple hours of emergency surgery and a lot of blood to bring him back from the dead."

"Oh my God. Should we go and see him?"

"Michael says not tonight."

"I suppose visiting hours are now over."

"It's not that. He's with a lady."

Her mouth forms a small O of surprise...but she says nothing more.

Finally, under her breath almost, she says, "I'll be damned."
 

MICHAEL:

Kelly says she's gonna get turned in early, she has classes all morning and then she's got to work in the afternoon. I tell her I'll come and tuck her in in a little while.

First, I got something to do here.

Damn. I was hoping I'd get some privacy for this, but no, Langly's out there, typing away.

"What're you doing?" I ask him.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing? I'm answering my e-mails."

"Why don't you do it some other time?"

"Because, fuckrag, I just got home and I gotta work tomorrow, so that's why I'm doing it!"

Christ, he's tetchy.

Looks like he's ready for bed, too-running shorts, ratty T-shirt (even rattier than the ones he wears in front of people), wet hair.

"So what the fuck are you doing, Junior?"

"I got some work to do."

"Yeah, I bet you do. Like checking out Daddy's new girlfriend."

Oh, if I were only bigger, I'd punch him out right now...but I've seen Langly in a fight, and I know damn well he'd take me down.

Plus, they say in libel, truth is a defense.

I boot up my system.

"You want some help?" he calls over to me.

"No, thanks."

"You know her name?"

"Yeah. Martha Small. One of Byers's nurses when he was like almost dead."

"Not the loud chick?"

"No, the other one."

"Good. Don't think the Fro could handle the noisy one."

What does he mean, good?

This is not good! Not at all. It sucks.

I already looked up financial stuff on this lady, and she's in bad shape.

Let's see if she's been a bad girl to top it all off.

Somehow I doubt it...she looks like the type that's so good. Like all Dad's women are. They're so fucking righteous you wanna puke.

I don't know if she lives in Maryland, DC or Virginia, so I have to hack into all three databases.

Finally, in the Maryland one, I hit paydirt.

She got arrested back in July...

Working as a phone sex operator!

Oh God. This is rich. This is almost funny. This is...

So Dad.

I start laughing my ass off.

"Junior, you losing it over there?" Langly calls out as he types away.

"Langly, come over here, you gotta see this!"

He's like, whatever, wanders over to my area, which isn't much of a walk since I work next to him. He sneezes this sneeze you can hear in the fucking Caribbean the way it comes out.

I refuse to say bless you to Langly...he might think I mean it.

Yes, I feel like a real bastard today.

He starts giggling, too. "Oh man. She was working the phone lines...let me guess, your dad called her up so he could get his rocks off..."

"Looks that way. Guess who posted her bail."

He peruses the arrest report.

"Oh man, you gotta be kidding! He posted her damn bail! That's like so rich!" He's cracking up.

"It's not that funny, you asshole."

"Why? You were laughing?"

"Only at how ironic it was."

"Yeah, well, you gotta admit, it's so Fro."

Well, okay, that it is.

"Your dad's got this thing for damsels in distress, y'know."

Yeah, don't I know it.

I got the same problem.

"And she's a nurse, and she's with him, like right now?"

"Yeah." And he kicked me out so he could be alone with her!

Bastard.

Langly gives this major sneeze again-guy has no subtlety, I'll say that for him.

"You sick, Langly?"

"Better not be. If I am, I can blame Ally, she's got this."

He's quiet for about 30 seconds, which is usually about all he's good for. Then he gets like this evil grin on his face.

"Hey, whaddya say we go and spy on 'em?"

"Langly, my dad will fucking kill me slowly and painfully! Besides, he can't do anything, he can't even sit up, for Christ's sake!"

"So then what are you so worried about?"

"You wanna know, you fuckrag? I'll tell you. Jo and Dr. Scully are both like, he's gonna need help when he gets home, and I'm like in school and work all day, and Jo says she's gonna get somebody for him, and I bet you anything she called Martha! How much you wanna bet!"

"I'm not gonna do that, I don't like losing. Speaking of which, you owe me money, Junior."

"I don't get paid till end of September."

"Hey, I didn't say I wanted it now, just reminding you of your obligations." This is from our last pool tournament.

"Fuck you, Langly."

"Nah, that's Ally's job. Speaking of which, think I'm gonna let her do it."

"Langly, you're disgusting."

"You want disgusting? Imagine your dad in bed with a lady."

That was not an image I needed.

END OF PART 19