Relying On Ben and Jerry (Waltham #1)

Chapter Seven: Pudding, Ugly People, and Rock of Ages

“Say it again,” I giggled, grinning. Colonel shot me a look that could have fried an egg on a snowy day.

“No,” he replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “You’re just goin’ on and makin’ fun of me.”

“No I’m not,” I objected. “I’m not laughing at you, but I am laughing with you, so it’s all in good humor. Norma wants to hear it again, doesn’t she?”

She just smirked at me and didn’t answer, but Kline fidgeting with the folds of her leather jacket called out, “Yeah, Colonel, stop being such a chick. Just say it again. What’s it going to hurt?”

“My dignity,” he countered defensively, glancing around the table at our expectant faces with a look of total scorn. He sighed deeply, and I sensed a battle won. “Alright, fine. But this is it, alright? I’m not sayin’ it again.”

“That’s fine,” I assured him without pointing out that was exactly what he had said the three times before this, but each time we somehow managed to win. He looked around at us again before making a face and sinking a little deeper into his chair.

“Puddin’,” he said, and we burst out laughing. “Hey! Stop laughin’ at me!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Norma giggled, hiding her laughing face in her hands. “It’s just impossible not to laugh. It’s so adorable.”

“I would put it more along the lines of comical,” Peter argued. “Perhaps even payback.”

“How could you be usin’ somethin’ like that as payback, Gordo?” Colonel demanded, rolling his eyes. “I’m sayin’ it out loud.”

“And I’m recordin’ it under the table,” he informed him, bringing his hand up and waving his cell phone in his friend’s face. “Eight times, to be precise. I’m sure I have plenty of comeuppance if the time calls for it.”

Colonel growled at us, but he just looked like a pissed off Chihuahua so it just made me, Peter, and Kline laugh even harder. At this point Norma had his hand in both of hers and was speaking in low, soothing tones to him in comfort, but her smirk could still be seen from the moon without a high powered telescope. Colonel knew it, but he wasn’t much of the angry type—I learned quickly that he was more of a pouter.

He pouted at us as if to prove me right. “Can we get back to the point at hand ’fore y’all started bein’ mean to me?”

I exchanged a grin with Kline, but none of us answered him. He rolled his eyes and took that as the go-ahead, looking back at me.

“Can you explain to me why you’ve got six packages of puddin’ in your skivvies?” he demanded.

Norma hit him on the arm. “Colonel, they aren’t skivvies. It’s a purse. Made of them. Stop making it sound like Lena shoves pudding down her pants and then saves it for later.”

Everyone else laughed, but I knew I was going to have to change the subject quickly if I didn’t want the dares to come out and if my pants wanted to stay pudding-free for the rest of my first day of a Bostonian high school. I smiled in amusement but it felt a little forced, and I patted at my tutu.

“Nope, none left over,” I informed them, and Norma laughed and snorted, which made her just hide her face in her hands before slamming her face down onto the table and hiding there instead. Colonel laughed loud enough to cause an earthquake in China and rubbed at her back, grinning down at her even though she couldn’t see him, his eyes twinkling.

“Aw, Norma, you’re makin’ me blush,” he told her, and she reached back to slap him for probably the eightieth time since we had sat down at the table. Something told me that she was the abusive one of the relationship, but I think she could probably even shoot him in the heart and Colonel would still come crawling back to her, even when he was still bleeding.