ModestGeniusXL

Love

What is love?

He looked at the question on at the top of the Blue Book for the umpteenth time.  How could the professor assign this as a writing project?  It was such an arbitrary question.  There could be any variety of answers.  All of them would be correct to that person defining it.  It's different to each person.  So maybe the professor wanted to know how each student would describe it.  He laughed to himself thinking of that possibility.  Well at least it would be one of the easiest "A"s he ever earned.

What is love?

He immediately reminisced over her.  The one woman that always entered his thoughts whenever the word "love" surfaced.  It was so natural for her to cross his mind because he had never felt love like it before.  He was confident that every relationship prior to her was nothing but a rehearsal to prepare him for what love truly was.  For what love truly could be.

What is love?

It was the way she smiled.  The way the very curl of her lips could permeate his soul.  It didn't matter if it was done in his presence or just an image of it.  That smile shined intensely as though it were meant strictly for him.  As though he was the inspiration that caused her happiness to produce a smile paralleled by none.

What is love?

It was in her eyes.  How they danced without even moving whenever she looked at him.  The way her sultry stare revealed her weakness for him.  The sparkle they shined with every different facial expression.  How they could look right through him yet capture him simultaneously. 

What is love?

It was her presence.  Much more than the perfect symmetry she created as she walked.  It was the aura that she exuded through the confidence she projected.  The way her body movement was pure poetry as it seemed to be in sync with the inflection of her soft alto vocal tone.  The way it all enveloped him whenever they were together.

What is love?

It was the way she feels.  So much more than just the creamy silkiness of her skin.  The way her emotions opened to him as his intertwined with hers.  The way that she had become so much a piece of his heart that he felt incomplete when she was away.  The way she accepted him for who he was while allowing him to do the same for her.

What is love?

He looked to his paper once more.  Temporarily forgetting that he had allowed himself to mentally drift elsewhere as he envisioned how perfect she was for him.  How perfect they were for one another.  He may have used love's name in vain before but it was never more accurate than it was now.  So much so that his assignment could not have been more clear.  He wrote down his answer with his own smile that displayed his passion...

"She is love"

Departure

Lela's phone rang again. 

She hurriedly switched it to vibrate so she could get back to her conversation with the man she considered her boyfriend.  She didn't even bother to check to see who was calling.  No more interruptions.  This was not turning into one of their typical conversations.

"So what are you trying to say?" she asked.  There was a near quiver in her tone.  She could feel her eyes welling up despite her best efforts to prevent it.

Devon partially curled his lip.  He was trying to find the best way possible to break things off.  He knew it would be difficult despite the fact he had practiced it in his head the previous evening.  He even stood in front of the bedroom mirror making sure he got everything just right.  Down from his hand movements to his facial expressions.  Probably should have worked on the lip curl though.  That was a dead giveaway that he was getting frustrated.

"Look..." he reached down and grabbed her hand.  It just seemed an appropriate measure of reassurance to cushion the blow.  Afterall, they were in his apartment.  He wasn't trying to have her snap and then start breaking some of his valuables. "I don't know how much longer my company's  going to have me here anyway.  I told you that early on.  That's why I didn't want to getoo attached."

Ortega Textiles was not relocating Devon anywhere.  They brought him to Mexico from the states with the full intention of him moving up in the ranks of the company.  It was their hope that his American influence and eagerness from having freshly graduated would be a step to revitalize the company.  Devon was very much aware of that as well.  He actually liked living in Mexico.  However, he wasn't about to tell Lela that.  It just seemed like a convenient out.  

She brushed her silky black mane behind her ears once more.  Just in time to catch her phone vibrating.  She stole a glance at the caller id this time.  UNKNOWN.  Just what she figured.  It could wait.  She was still trying to understand what had changed between her and Devon.  Calling him her boyfriend may not have been quite an accurate description, but they were definitely exclusive.  At least she was.  And that was in spite of the fact that she was constantly getting bombarded with offers due to her job as an exotic dancer.

Devon was a different than any other guy that had approached her.  First and foremost was he was making an honest living.  He did not come at her with an average pick up line making it seem like he was just interested in getting under her skirt.  He actually treated her like a lady.  He was was one of the few guys she gave her real name to.  One of the few guys she introduced to her three-year-old son.  All because she was confident that they could have a future together.  Something she gathered in just their three short months of dating.

"I can't do this," Lela uttered, pulling her hand away,  "I need to leave....I..." she put the strap of her Chanel purse over her shoulder without ever making eye contact with Devon "...I need to leave."

He remained silent.  Maybe this was the best resolution.  She was leaving on her own accord without him having to go into any more details.  They could always hash out the rest over the phone if necessary.  Or possibly even e-mail.  Whatever the case, he graciously watched her curvaceous frame leave while he continued to say nothing.  She didn't slam the door so that was a good sign.  Still, he couldn't help but think that maybe he owed her more.

Devon released a long sigh.  The lip curled again.  He really should have let her know that it really had nothing to do with her occupation contrary to what she may have thought.  Also in spit of what his boys back home tried to convince him.  Devon had always had a penchant for exotic dancers so of course it wasn't going to change just because he was in Monterey.  In fact, it increased exponentially when he got to Mexico where the quality was much better than that of St. Louis.

Just as he heard the purring of her engine start up, Devon realized it wouldn't kill him to give her more clarification.  He darted out the door with enough time to see the Toyota turn the corner.  He reached for his phone to call her when he was confronted by two scuffy teenagers.  By the looks of their clothes and their rugged appearance, they were definitely in the wrong neighborhood. 

Devon prepared to cordially greet them, but he never had a the chance to speak.  The stockier of the two caught Devon with a right cross to the face that knocked him to his knees.  He was on the sidewalk on all fours tasting his own blood, wondering what had just happened.  That's when the other drew his Glock and fired three point blank shots to Devon's skull. 

His lifeless body fell quickly to become one with the pavement.

***

Lela was able to hold back the tears long enough until she cleared the corner from Devon's house. That way if he did happen to come outside to see her leaving, he still would not have seen anything.  Her phone rang with the UNKNOWN caller-id popping up once more.  There was nothing for it to interrupt this time so she answered.

"Collect call from La Mesa Prison," said the voice on the other end.  "Will you accept the charges?"

"Yes," Lela cautiously replied.

"Hola, Mami," came the scratchy familiar voice. Lela was frozen, unable to speak.  The caller easily sensed it.  He expected it.  "Surprised to hear from me?...I told you no one will have you but me.  Don't ever doubt me."

Bittersweet

Alden entered the digits into his phone again.  He was fairly certain he was calling the correct number.  Especially since Eve's voicemail was picking up.  Then even moreso when it would ring straight to voicemail.  That meant she had turned her phone off altogether.  That generally happens when a person is weary of hearing their phone ring non-stop and gets tired of simply flat out ignoring the calls.

At what point does it go from obsessed to being a stalker?  Alden pondered that as he prepared to send another text message.  He rationalized that it wasn't truly stalking because he hadn't driven by her house.  Recently.  At least not that day.  It had been a good week since the last time he just coincidentally happened to be in her neighborhood.  Ten miles away.

He ran his fingers through his freshly washed dreads reflecting on the words of wisdom his best friend, Devin,  shared with him: he had a chronic problem with letting go.  His friend even used his dreads as an example.  As for the relationship, it had been over for a good fews weeks yet Alden continued to cling to a shred of fruitless hope that they could still work things out.  Devin didn't know what he was talking about.  He was probably jealous of Alden's dreads anyway.

Send.

That would be text message number five for that day.  A quick test of his phone revealed that it was working properly.  He even delivered a text to himself just to make sure.  Drake's song "Best I Ever Had" played for the ringtone as his own message came though.  All that did was further remind Alden of what Eve was.  But it also caused him to remember what she wasn't.

Eve had been in an abusive relationship before she met Alden.  One that lasted a few years with her baby's father.  He had been so brutal that he nearly beat her within an inch of her life.  The coward was in and out of county lock-up constantly for various offenses with many of those stemming from violating his restraining order Eve had on him.  Still, when the woman-beater called on his son's birthday to ask to see him, Eve took the call.

The very thought further infuriated Alden.  That demon nearly killed Eve.  He left her with a six-inch scar on her neck that will never go away.  Not mention that he did all this in front of their child.  But she had no problem taking HIS call??  The only thing Alden did was show a little disrespect.  Possibly on a more than frequent basis.  However, it was nothing to the level that that monster did.

 She wasn't quite as understanding as Alden would have liked either.  Many of his friends had girlfriends that didn't mind when they stayed out a little late with the guys.  Or that they had a multitude of lady friends.  Or even that his career took  precedence over a relationship that had only been a few months in the making. 

The more he thought about it, the more Alden figured he was better off without Eve.  There were plenty of other conquests out there waiting in the wings.  They didn't have near the drama and/or baggage that Eve brought along with her.  Some of them were even more attractive.  Certainly more exuberant...

The sudden vibration of his phone broke his train of thought.  Alden quickly grabbed it to check the LED screen...

"Please let it be her..."

Unfortunately

He fidgeted with the tie again trying to get the knot just right.  It never seemed to look quite the way he wanted to.  Wayne wished he would have learned that windsor knot Pops tried to teach him.  The version that he did pick up worked okay on the cheap ties, but not on the designer ones that he had started to don.  He stole one last stare in the mirror and frowned.  It would have to do.  It could have been much worse, he rationalized.

"Are you ready, Daddy?" shrieked his tiny angel as she came bounding into the bedroom.

Dana had been looking forward to Sunday morning the entire week.  There was nothing she enjoyed more than spending time with her grandparents.  However, going to church with them was a special treat all itself.  She got the chance to dress up and sit next to both of them as the joyous sounds of the choir filled her ears.  She cherished the best seat in the house as the older lady who always sits in the same aisle seat would start doing her happy dance.  The only thing better than Saturday morning cartoons to Dana was Sunday with Gramma and Grampa.

Despite his better judgment, Wayne adjusted the noose one last time.  Still the same frown graced his face, but his daughter's presence caused it to drift slyly into a semblance of a smile, "I'm ready, baby girl."

He reached down to kiss her on the top of her curly locks just as his cell phone went off.  He instinctively looked at the clock before even checking the caller id.  11:30.  They were running late.  They should have already been in church and then he never would have heard it.  Then he would have a valid excuse for conveniently forgetting that he was supposed to have Dana back to her mother's by11am as promised.  As the divorce decree stated.  He shook his head in frustration as he thought on that again.  He should have never agreed to that time just because of his odd work schedule.

She would never know they weren't in church.  He could still use that as excuse.  Nevertheless, Wayne sneaked yet another glance at the caller id anyway just out of habit.  Sure enough it was the ex.  He quickly pressed the "ignore" button and turned the phone to vibrate.  There was no way he was going to let her spoil what should be a perfect day with his folks and his daughter.  Her drama had eaten away at him all week long and there was finally one day where he would have some peace.

"I'm gonna go see if Gramma is ready!" the bubbly 7-year-old beamed.  And with that she was out the door as quick as she had appeared.  The way she could brighten a room by both her presence and even her magnificent exit caused Wayne's face to glow.  Suddenly, he didn't care how straight the tie was.

He sauntered down the steps as he gradually made his way to the living room.  His father already sat in there catching the last few minutes of Sportscenter while he also waited on the matriarch of the family.  The elder gentleman found a way to look stately even as he just sat in his favorite recliner.  Wayne knew no matter how hard he tried to pull off a debonair style, he would never come close to the presence that his father commanded.

A ring of the doorbell interrupted Wayne's train of thought.  Not Pop's though.  "Get that, son.  It's probably your brother," he stated.  The gentle order came without his concentration ever leaving the latest news story about his beloved Chicago Bears.

Before he could even round the corner, his bubbly daughter cut him off at the pass.  She seemingly came from nowhere as she insisted to be the one to open the door.  All he could do was beam enthusiastically once again as he continued to marvel her energy.  How quickly the bliss disappeared with the sound of just two words the moment the visitor was revealed:  "Hi Mommy!"

Leech

She shook the stick again.  This time harder.  Maybe that's what it took for it to register.  The directions clearly said to wait two minutes for the results to show, but those 120 seconds were taking an eternity to pass.  She was getting too anxious to find out the results.  She looked at her watch one more time as she played with her tongue ring.  Just as it hit the mark of one minute and fifty seconds, a blue bar slowly started to become visible.

Blue bar?   Was that positive or negative?  She scrambled to find the box for the instructions and realized she had thrown it away in her haste to get to the test.  Fortunately, it rested just atop the trash receptacle.  She also didn't manage to get it all the way in when she tossed it so she didn't have to go digging far. 

Blue bar = pregnant.

The 20-year-old released a huge yelp followed shortly by a gratuitous smile stretching from ear to ear.  She had finally done it.  Not that she didn't have plenty of practice.  That wasn't the problem though.  She had already discarded her abusive boyfriend assuring that he would never father her child.  She was able to find a suitable replacement instead.  A sperm donor to help her fulfill her wish of having a child of her own.

She quickly grabbed her sister's cell phone so that she could capture the moment.  She stood in the mirror and snapped a picture of herself cheesing next to the pregnancy test.  The same one she had just finished urinating on not even five minutes ago.  One thing she also forgot to do in her haste was to wash it off.  Not that it was much of a problem for her.  Showering wasn't a daily occurrence for her anyway so cleanliness was not one of her concerns.

She then marveled at her lanky frame.  Gently massaging her stomach, running her fingers over her pierced belly button.  She would leave that in as long as she could.  Sure she would eventually start developing that little bulge, but that didn't mean she couldn't still keep it sexy.  She had to stay somewhat on the prowl.  She still needed to find that special someone.  He didn't have to be a father figure because she knew she would have enough love for both her and her unborn child.

The thought of looking thru the classifieds did momentarily cross her mind.  It would be nice if she had a job to provide for her and her family.  However, that was not a priority at the moment.  She was comfortably enjoying her temporary residence on the couch at her sister's house.  Why should she have to worry about paying any bills as long as she had someone to do it for her?  She had other things to stress over.  Like making sure she got all of her Facebook responses updated for the day.  The possibility of getting a job remained a very fleeting thought.

Food was also not going to be an issue.  Up to that point, she was able to enjoy the groceries that her sister provided.  However, after doing some quick research, she discovered that she would be eligible for food stamps!  So not only could she now reap the benefits of free room and board, but she would also have free sustenance.  Well...not entirely free.  The government was paying for it.  Not that it mattered to her.  She didn't have a job so it wasn't her tax money being used on it.  It was free to her.

She continued to ride the natural high as she collapsed on the couch to chat away online.  She couldn't wait to share the great news with all of her friends.  Maybe she would even visit some of them in person to tell them.  All she had to do was find a ride since she had no transportation.  She knew that wouldn't be a problem though.  Life was going to be all rosy for her now that one of her biggest dreams had finally come true.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Dr. Phillip Jorgensen slowly removed the baby as its head began to gently crown.  There was no crying and yet it was obvious that the little boy was clearly okay.  In fact, he was better than okay.  He was amazing.  The physician could do nothing but marvel in wonderment at how handsome God's latest creation was.  He was speechless.  The rest of the staff joined him with their mouths agape.  They could have all ended their careers that day as there would never be able to delivery another baby boy as outstanding as this one.

 The doctor turned to the mother and smiled.  It was all he could do.  There were no words that could truly express how in awe he was.  There it was Mother's Day and this beautiful woman just had the most incredible gift bestowed upon here that anyone could possibly receive.  He handed the baby to her and bowed his head to express his gratitude for allowing him to be present when this breath-taking event took place.

The date was May 10, 1970.  9:10am at Bethany Hospital in Kansas City, Kansas.

Naturally, I didn't know the name of the doctor who delivered me; however, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how the events transpired on that magical day.  You will have to forgive the liberty I have taken with my little prose.  It's my special day so I am somewhat entitled.  My own little special gift to myself.

Some people would be bothered by the fact that there birthday would fall on another day of celebration.  Of course I'm referring to how mine is once again on Mother's Day.  It happens occasionally and I have no problem with it at all.  A guy couldn't ask for more than to share his birthday with the best mother in the world.  That's getting two gifts for the price of one!

No big plans again for my birthday.  There never is.  It's really just another day for me.  I normally don't celebrate in any type of elaborate way unless it's a landmark age.  For my 30th, I had a get-together with family and friends to commemorate the end of the 20s.  Perhaps I will do the same thing when I turn 40. 

In five years.

Rendezvous

He turned the collar up slowly on his dress coat as he took another sip of his latte.  It wasn't supposed to be that cold in there.  It was a coffee shop.  The temperature should be more comfortable.  He laughed to himself contemplating the real reason for the climate.  They think they are slick.  Having it cool on purpose to sell more cups of joe.  Nice.

The door opened again and another lone woman walked into the establishment.  She brushed the bangs from her face while simultaneously stomping her boots on the mat to remove the snow.  It was yet another woman not donning the lavender scarf he was looking for.  She didn't have one at all.  By the looks of her outfit, she probably did not even know what a scarf was.

  He chuckled quietly as he shook his head sheepishly.  Why was he doing this?  Why did he ever let his friend talk him into a blind date in the first place?  Here he was just fresh of his divorce and dating was the last thing on his mind.  All he could think about was capitalizing on the new freedom to spend more time with his twins.  Nevertheless, he ended up succumbing to the peer pressure.

The tiny bell jingled again, signifying the entry of the latest custoemr.  He glanced over to see if she was the one.  A slender woman in approximately her mid-20s.  Much more fashionable than the previous patron.  She even had the fair features he was drawn to.  She also had a very obvious companion with her.  Either that or she was just EXTREMELY happy that he was there to catch her when she almost slipped.

He looked at his watch.  5:34.  Wasn't the agreed upon time 5:30?  It wasn't a good sign that she was a late.  Either that or it was rather anxious of him to be so early.  He couldn't help it.  He just wanted to get the awkwardness out of the way so he could at least say he made an effort.  He had to get back on the horse sometime so there was no time like the present.

DING!

Finally.  A scarf.  Was that lavender though, he wondered?  Then it occurred to him that he wasn't completely certain of what color lavender even was.  A purplish blue maybe?  Or was it a bluish-purple?  Her garment clearly had a hue of both to it.  She pulled it away from her face cautiously.  His eyes were widely fixated on the material as she slowly unraveled it.  Just enough to reveal a perfect smile.

He visibly exhaled.

Harsh

"So just like you requested," Adrian smiled, "Pass the agency exam by the Eleventh.  Today's the tenth."

Weazy peered from over the papers and nodded.  Adrian could see the expression in his beady little eyes that he was not happy.  The body language in his boss's tiny frame said it all.  The smugness was still there and the wheels in his brain were still turning.  It's as if he was still plotting his next move to oust Adrian since this tactic didn't work.  Trying his best to live up to the nickname "Weasel" he had earned around the office. 

Adrian wasn't about to give him the satisfaction though.

"You can save you breath...I'm letting you know now that I'm putting in my two week's notice."

The sarcastic manager looked up once more.  The blank expression slowly grinded to a sardonic grin, "I'm not surprised.  I expected that when I laid out the expectations for you that you would be quitting.  I knew you didn't have what it takes."

This was what had always eaten away at Adrian.  He wished he could have been shocked by the response, but he had grown accustomed to inappropriate remarks such as those.  The man who was supposed to be fostering his development as a manager had always been the opposite.  Weasel had always tried to assert his authority from the very beginning of his tenure as department manager a few months ago.  Managing by fear and intimidation through his small frame.  Doing his best to perpetuate the whole midget complex stereotype.

"Will you be getting another supervisor job?" Weazy asked.

"I have something else lined up," Adrian nodded.

He was not about to give Weasel the satisfaction of knowing what his career path was.  Why should he?  He didn't owe him anything.  This is the same man that passed Adrian over for a promotion for the cute blond instead.  The one who Weasel took on a "business trip" to Reno for a week.  The one who suddenly returned from the trip with the mantle of "high performer" and was showered with accolades from senior management.  But of course there was nothing going on between Weasel and Jerrilyn.  It was just a coincidence that her and Weasel had such a friendly working relationship.

"I don't know what you were doing here in the first place," Weasel grunted.  "You people are never cut out for leadership roles."

That was the last straw.  Adrian lept over the desk and landed a right hook to Weasel's jaw in one solid motion.  It caught the manager just as much as surprise as Adrian was by the fact that he did it.  He had always said he wouldn't let the actions of one man push him over the edge as this so-called manager had been trying to do for so long. However, the months of constant verbal abuse and demeaning behavior and finally gotten the best of Adrian. 

Weasel did not  even have enough time to counter.  He had always prided himself on his history as a college wrestler and the fact that the still had the build to prove it, but that training did him no good when he was caught off guard.  The blow knocked him out of his cushy over-priced chair as he sprawled out on the floor.  He sat there in amazement with his pride stinging just as much as his now swollen face. 

Now it was Adrian's turn to smile.  He knew that security would be around the corner any minute.  He knew that he should have known better than to act so brashly.  After being in the professional word for well over a dozen years, the still young professional knew the proper decorum in the corporate environment.  He just could not help it though. That man brought out the worse in him.  And even putting in his notice didn't seem to restore enough of Adrian's self-confidence as he thought he would.  But somehow, knocking out that arrogant, pitiful excuse for a human being made things all better.

Dear Allison

Junior sat staring at his laptop screen as he filtered through the throngs of e-mail.  All of them were in desperate need of relationship advice and that's what he was there for.  Even if it wasn't really him.  How many of them would be writing to the Daily Gazette if they new that Allison was really a guy?  And just a twentysomething at that?  Not the middle-aged woman the picture suggested.  It had been three years since he scored the gig, but the thought of it still made him laugh everytime Junior thought about it.

It was pure chance that the opportunity even came about in the first place.  There could not have been a more perfect example of being in the right place at the right time.  Junior had been doing some freelance articles for the Gazette's weekly entertainment paper when the editor approached him.  He wasn't even looking for something new.  He didn't even know it existed.

As it turned out, Allison was ready to retire.  Betsy Peters was her real name.  See...even the real Allison wasn't the real Allison.  The picture was actually her though.  She had been doing the column for nearly two decades and had grown weary of dispensing relationship advice to her regional readers.  Even at her age she longed for something more.

The problem was the Gazette could not run the risk of  losing the loyal Dear Allison fan-base.  No one was certain how they would take to a new psycho-therapist.  Especially once they had grown accustomed to the no-nonsense approach Allison had perfected.  There were rumblings that the circulation of over 100,000 the paper had established had been due largely in part to the dedicated Dear Allison readers.

So how could editor-in-chief Rae Downs keep the column going without letting on that Allison was no longer giving out the classic nuggets herself?  Simple.  She would have to find someone to replace her that could make a seamless transition.  Someone that could adapt the same writing style.  That's where Junior came in.

Junior had written a scathing article about Dear Allison in one of his freelance pieces.  A rather bold move on his part since it was biting the hand that fed him.  He didn't see it that way though.  He wasn't bound by contract to the paper.  If they cut him loose, so what?  He wasn't even thirty-years-old yet.  He would go somewhere else.  He still felt inclined to speak out about how Dear Allison was providing a false sense of entitlement and self-confidence to those people who were already lacking stability in the first place. 

That was just the brash attitude Rae was looking for.  There was one quick dinner meeting and she found that Junior's style had just the ingredients she desired.  He wasn't the most eloquent speaker in person, but his written words spoke volumes.  He could keep the tone of the column the same and no one would be none the wiser. 

All in all, it was a pretty decent paycheck for Junior.  He couldn't even get a staff writing position on his college newspaper and here he was penning an advice column for the largest newspaper in the city.  People were hanging on his every word no matter how frank he would often be.  Also regardless of the fact that he couldn't see to use his own advice to maintain his own romantic relationship.  If only he could get his mouth and coordination to be as skillful as the words he typed.

The Edge of Sanity

Gerald didn't want them there in the first place.  Yes, maybe it was a little selfish, but he couldn't help it that he was just that way.  It had nothing at all to do with the fact that Gerald wasn't the biggest Alyanna fan in the first place.  It didn't matter that it was his sister-in-law.  In fact, that may have worked out to be a detriment for her.

When Brianna asked Gerald if her sister and brother-in-law could stay for a week, it should not have been such an imposition.  Aren't married couples supposed to make compromises like that?  If a family member needs assistance and the means are there, shouldn't they help?  Especially since the downstairs was essentially going unused.  No one was being put out by the couple staying for a while.

Still, Gerald couldn't help who he was.  He would go out of his way to be a personable person at the office so he wouldn't live down to the "angry Black male" stereotype.  But that was at work.  He invested so much time in that persona for 10 hours a day that it was a tall chore to be cordial outside of business hours.  The fact that he hated his job made it even more difficult.

Gerald had not said so much as a word to Alyanna and her husband, Phillip since they had been in the house.  Then again, it's not like they gave him much opportunity to.  The would keep to the downstairs where there was only the one bedroom.  When they did surface, they never sauntered into the living room where Gerald stayed rooted to the couch. 

That bugged Gerald just a little.  Even though he wasn't the most approachable person, Alyanna should have still at least introduced her newlywed husband.  Afterall, it was Gerald's house too.  Yet there they were enjoying the liberties of the central air.  Taking in the amenities of the cable television. 

It's just a respect thing, Gerald thought to himself.  If you're a guest, you speak to the host.  Even if he is an unbearable one.

Then came the day when Gerald came home from having yet another bad day.  It would have been Day Three of the sister-in-law/brother-in-law invasion.  He once again set up camp on the couch to catch up on his daily dose of Sportscenter when his son entered the room. 

"Phillip wants to know if he can ride your bike."

Gerald was beyond dumfounded.  This man had not said a word to Gerald the entire time he had been in the house and he wanted to use Gerald's bike?!  In fact, he didn't even have the courtesy to ask himself.  He sent a message through a boy.  It was the same thing that Gerald was always getting on his own sons about.  If you're going to ask a favor of someone, YOU ask the favor.  No messengers. 

This was just getting better and better.  Gerald begrudgingly muttered a yes through the gritted teeth of a sarcastic smirk.  He then abruptly opened his laptop and began searching the classifieds for the newest available apartments.