Reliving History, Repeating Mistakes

Part 1

He had been ignoring the constant banging against his front door for the last five minutes. His son knew how to get in if he really needed to,without him opening the door, and everyone else that could have any business with him is simply not important enough to leave his comfy couch right this moment. He's not drunk, when you spent the greater portion of your adult life downing drink after drink like it's tap water, you develop a resistance, definitively need more than five beers to get you there – but that's exactly where he's trying to get at. At least until someone decided to show up at his trailer in the middle of the night.

He closeshis eyes, sinks further back into his couch, intend on blocking theaggravation noise from his mind, when he hears a voice accompanyingthe banging. It sounds pissed and, knowing exactly who is on theother side of that door, he, for a moment, feels a sick sense ofglee. He'd always love to rile her up – even back in high schoolthose were the times he found her the most attractive. Of courseattractive is something she had always been to him, no matter in whatmood he happened to cross her path.

"You'reenjoying this, aren't you?" her voice is loud enough to be heardthrough the closed door, but carefully silent enough that hopefullynobody else hears. "Having me look like a fool out here for thelast five minutes. Come on, I know you're home and not nearly drunkenough to be passed out yet"

For abrief moment, he wonders how she would know that and then heremembers – her daughter is dating his son – and with a groan herealizes that that is probably exactly why she's here.

He hadbeen to dinner with the both of them, in an attempt to become abetter father from at least now on, and dinner had; at some point,gone horribly wrong. He had been trying to be polite – hadsucceeded for a good part of the evening – but when they started toask the wrong questions he had started to snap at them. The wrongquestions like, I he serious about the new job Fred Andrews gave him.Like is he going to give up drinking completely. Like is he evergoing to cut ties with the Serpents. He realizes, in hindsight, thatthey were teenagers and probably didn't know better than to ambushhim like that, but it had still pissed him of. They had reminded himjust a little too much of their respective mothers. The kids had leftwhen he had ordered his first beer of the day.

That one,he had told himself, was just to cope with their aggravatingquestions. The other four were to start his journey to gettingsmashed. He has been home for about an hour, left just after the kidsdid, and of course she knows that.

Hefinally gets up from the couch when he hears her let out a frustratedsigh, but he knows her too well to think she will be leaving beforehe lets her in. Standing at the door, his hand already poised overthe knob, he takes another full minute to contemplate if he reallywants to open it, and the he swings the door inward with a flourish.

Her handis raised in mid-air, as if she has been about to start the obnoxiousknocking back up and he can read the anger and frustration from herface. She's still hot, he has to admit again, though this time hekeeps his mouth shut and only thinks it to himself. And he remindshimself that that's not what they're here for. When she opens hermouth to, presumably, shout at him, he holds up a hand to silenceher.

"Asmuch as I like to see you all hot and bothered, I am actually justnot in the mood for company tonight" he flashes her one of hissarcastic smiles she used to love when they were younger. "But ifyou're missing the old days, you're welcome to stay. I think mykitchen needs cleaning" He has no intention of actually letting herin.