“Do you know what program you use?”
“It’s called Axis Gold. My husband set it up a long time ago. It’s getting clunky and taking longer to pull people up. I’ve had some of my clerks clean up the data entry, but it’s not enough.”
“Sure, I could take a look. How old is your operating system?”
“Um, I think about the same age. If you want more work, you might want to get some business cards. I can put them on my counter at the clinic.”
I told her that sounded good, but in my head, I was calculating when I would have the time to devote to her project, among the jobs at the radio station, the real estate office, my internship, farm chores, and dating Jodie. Also, I would rather have all my teeth pulled out than deal with a database program. But, how can I say no to her? After all, she did remove all the male kids’ testicles.
After Sheila, Elliot, and Frankie left, Liv regaled us with her version of Call Me Maybe, and we all joined in. Every time the words “hot night” came up, Nate pulled the collar of his t-shirt out and flung a hand into the air, and I almost choked the first time. After we finished planting, watering, and chasing each other around with muddy hands, we were all sweaty and our clothes were filthy. We stacked up the empty pots and headed back to the other side of the house, the dogs clambering to go with us except for Bruno, the female gargantuan Great Pyrenees, who lay slumped against the fence smiling at us. She clearly couldn’t be bothered, since she would soon be trekking the entire property, as she did every evening.
Liv and Jodie ran to the convenience store to get beer and nachos, Nate and I finished putting everything away and brought the extra plants inside. Frodo was so happy to be let out and get some attention from Nate that he practically beamed. We went inside, cleaned up, and started laying plates and stuff out on the table.
“Does your Dad have any games? I mean did. Sorry, I’m not good with this sort of thing. Err-um, let me start over: Do you have any games?” He sighed and gave me a sheepish grin.
“Not a problem, Nate. Me, neither. I have never really had anyone die, except my grandparents. Everybody expected that, and we weren’t even that close. There are some board games over on the shelf.” We walked over to the wall of DVD’s and VHS tapes. There were a handful of games – Scrabble, Parcheesi, Monopoly, and Trivial Pursuit. “How about you?”
“Yeah, well, my aunt died when I was a kid. It was rough. She lived with us for a while. She had MS.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s totally okay. I mean, I miss her and all, even now, but it’s not the same as losing your parent, even one you don’t see very often. Liv says you don’t talk about him that much.”
“Well, I’m still processing, you know.” I stared at the games, not really seeing them, but thinking about my dad playing them. I wondered if he chose the shoe, the player I always chose, when he played Monopoly. Who played the game with him? Elliot?
“It must be hard, being around all his stuff every day.”
“In a way. Don’t tell Liv or she’ll get weird about it, but I keep smelling his pipe smoke around the place. I don’t really even remember him smoking when I was little, so I don’t think it’s memories. I get flashes, sometimes, but I left here when I was four. There’s not much for me to remember. I know he was funny with me on the phone, and he sent me birthday and Christmas presents every year, usually books.”
Nate touched the games on the shelf. “Which one?”
“Monopoly can take forever. How about Trivial Pursuit? I used to play it with my mom.”
“Okay.” He slid the game off the shelf and put it on the table, while I stuck some glasses in the freezer for beer later.
“Hey, Billie.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re staying. Liv really missed you, and I, well, you’re kinda growing on me.”
“Oh, thanks. Hey, I think you’re pretty cool, too. You’d have to be to be Liv’s sidekick, either that or gutless, like me.”
“Gutless is not how I would describe anyone who Liv chooses to spend time with. Although, I am beginning to understand Stockholm syndrome better.”
“Yep.” Jodie’s car pulled up outside. “We shall never talk of this again.” I mimicked turning a key over my lips.
“Agreed.” Nate sat down on the couch and coaxed Frodo onto his lap.
Liv and Jodie burst through the front door, giggling like besties. “We come bearing treats. Sorry, none for you, Frodo.” They giggled again and carried their bundles of goodies over to the counter and put overflowing takeout boxes full of nachos onto the table.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You don’t want to ask that,” Nate sang in a warning tone.
“You and Nate, derp.” Liv said.
“And so it begins.” Nate held his arm to his head in a mock fainting spell.
“What?” I asked.
“They’re bonding over us. Nothing is sacred, now. The inside jokes, the laughs at our expense. Everything they find the slightest bit curious or different or similar about us, they will bond over it.”
“Well, you two can bond
