Randomly Randomness

Insane Asylums Should Not Be Run By Monkeys

Jeremy Wade Bowen (the Third) came home on a hot Friday night near the end of July, slipping into town after thirteen years without a phone call or even a postcard. I guess slipping was a bit of an exageration, considering he brought a wife and four kids and a moving truck full of furniture with him. 

I, however, didn't suspect a thing as I took off for the grocery store early the following morning. I only felt pity for whoever had decided to move to Welsley, Texas. Maybe I should warn them? Maybe it was too late. You couldn't just run out on a mortgage. By the time I returned from Target, forty-five minutes away, with a car full of groceries, both my brothers-in-law had parked in front of Wade's house, my house, in my spot becuase, of course, letting the person who bought the food park in the driveway was just too much to ask. 

Grumbling to myself over the lost parking spot, I slid from my Wagoneer*, and crossed the wide lawn to the French doors that opened off the living room with four bags of groceries slung over my arms. I hadn't even reached the porch steps when I heard Jane May's shrieks over the sound of Rob's video games. That could only mean one thing: SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Whenever SOMETHING WAS WRONG, the Bowen's had a family meeting that consisted of Jane May shrieking, Senior grumbling, the Sheriff being a condescending ass, and everyone else drinking beer, except for Rob, who couldn't be arsed to get off the couch and me, who was not wanted. Nothing, and I mean nothing got done in the family without a powwow. It's a wonder we were allowed to go to the bathroom without one! And of course, lately, most of the meetings had involved me, or rather, my very existence. 

"Rob, can you help?" I asked, not bothering to see if he'd comply. He probably wouldn't. I continued on, cautiously drawn to the kitchen by the sound of excited chatter punctuated by Jane May's Banshee shreiks.  I, however, wasn't excited.

The walk down the hall to the kitchen was far too short for my liking, especially when I spotted Wade slumped over the kitchen table.  He jerked upright and lunged from his chair, shoving it out of the way as I stepped into the crowded kitchen.  

"We've got company." His face was tense, more tense than usual as I sat the bags on the counter. Even Hank and Pate, my car-spot-stealing brothers-in-law, stood grimfaced on the other side of the counter. Both of them gripped the counter in lieu of a beer--a small consideration for it only being 10:30 in the morning, I suppose. While Senior and the Sheriff looked overly pleased.

Best fake smile in play, I turned to find Jane May, her face covered in tears, clutching the arm of a young man who could have been Wade twenty years ago. Apparently, it wasn't just my mother-in-law stressing everyone out. Heck, it wasn't even me. I felt slightly relieved at the knowledge I hadn't accidentally or on-purposely caused some new drama. My long lost step-son had.

My smile grew larger, more genuine, so much so, I had to bite back a laugh as we were introduced. At least they couldn't blame me for all the drama his return would cause.   

"That whore is your step-mother," Jane said. Yes, after Wade introduced me.

Jeremy, my husband's doppleganger, looked painfully uncomfortable. "Grandma, language!"

I liked him already. I liked him even more after catching sight of the thin-lipped, unhappy expression on John Paul's face. 

"Well, she is." 

My ability to ignore my in-laws had reached almost comical proportions. Fake smile back in place, I said all the normal things you say to your long-lost stepson of a month, "Nice of you to join us." 

He had the grace to blush as he stood  and reached across John Paul to shake my hand. It was nice to see someone remembered their manners.

Jane May tugged at his shirt. "My baby is home!"

Yes, Jane, we know. We see him. . . It's alive! 

"Please excuse me. I need to get the rest of the groceries." Which I did, alone. By the time I finished putting them away, John Paul had excused himself and Jeremy was on his feet. 

"Where are you going?" The Banshee demanded.  "You can't leave yet."

Yes, yes he could and so could she. 

"Home. I've got a whole house to unpack and set up. Sarita can't do it alone, Grandma."  While he spoke he moved away from her, toward the kitchen door. 

"She'll be fine," Jane May said. 

"I have responsibilities," he said firmily.  "And besides,it's not like I'm going anywhere except across the street.  You can come see me anytime you like."

Biting back a smile, I fixed a cup of tea and added cream and sugar while I listened to the exchange and wished them all to Hell. Well, except Jeremy who was apparently married.  Hank wasn't. Neither was Pate. John Paul was divorced and Wade had been single for eight years before marrying me--since the death of Rob and Ellie's mom. It didn't take a molecular biologiest to figure out that Jane May didn't like competition. I assumed that, if Hank or Pate were dating, they were very discreet. John was a manwh0re, not that Jane would have noticed. I also assumed that Sarita would also have problems with Jane. I wondered what kind of man Jeremy had grown into. Physically, he resembled Wade, Hank and John Paul: Tall, slender, dark haired and light eyed. 

"Don't go!"

"I need to take my leg off, Grandma!" 

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*The Wagoneer predates the Audi. Yes I'm writing out of order.