Bad Games by Jeff Menapace Read Free Book Online Page B

furry pounds of endless entertainment.
    “I don’t know who’s got more energy, that mutt or your kids,” Norman said. Norman Mitchell was a short, squat man with a cherub face that said friendly no matter which way you looked at it. His black hair was gone save for the long strip that wrapped around the back of his head from ear to ear. Patrick had told Amy a few years back that he was the spitting image of a slightly taller Danny Devito and she had instantly agreed.
    “I’m putting my money on Carrie,” Patrick said. “Caleb will poop out soon. He’s like his old man—prefers to kick back and relax and watch others do the work. Now Carrie on the other hand, she’s my lovely wife’s child. She—”
    Amy reached over and gripped her husband’s ear. “Yes, honey? Please go on.”
    Patrick gave an exaggerated wince of agony. “You see this?” he said, pointing to the ear still in Amy’s clutches. “This happens all the time. Spousal abuse.”
    Amy let go and pushed his head away. “Oh boo hoo, you big sissy.”
    Patrick pointed at his wife again. “Psychological abuse too. I’m a broken man inside.”
    “You’re my bitch. Accept it,” Amy said.
    Both Mitchells laughed. Patrick shook his head in defeat, finished his beer, and raised the empty bottle. “I think I may need a refill here, Norm. Gotta ease the pain on my wounded ear and shattered ego.”
    Norman smiled at the couple and headed towards the back door leading into the kitchen, grilling spatula still in hand. He stopped in the doorway and turned to the group. “Anyone else? Amy? Sweetheart?”
    “Sure I’ll have another,” Amy said, her head now resting on Patrick’s shoulder.
    “Sweetheart?” Norman said again.
    Lorraine smiled at her husband and shook her head.
    “More for us I guess,” Norman said, winking at Patrick and Amy.
    “Bring it on Norm,” Patrick said. “I’ll rent your entire supply.”
    Norman made a face. “Rent?”
    Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh God , Norm, I thought you knew better than to feed into my husband’s pathetic cheese he calls a sense of humor.”
    “Ohhh…now I’ve got it,” Norman said. “The old, you don’t buy beer, you only rent it, joke.” He pointed the spatula at Patrick. “The scent of Gouda is strong with you, my son.”
    Patrick bowed his head. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
    “You’re quite welcome. But sadly, I’m afraid I look more like Yoda.”
    Lorraine said, “I always found Yoda to be quite sexy.”
    Norman pointed the spatula at his wife while looking at the Lamberts. “Is there any wonder why I love the woman?”
     
    * * *
     
    The grill was off and Patrick’s waistline was stretched to capacity. Amy, who was usually a light eater, was equally stuffed.
    “You missed your calling, Norm,” Patrick said. “You could have started your own barbecue pit up here and made millions.”
    “Why thank you, good sir,” Norman said. “You two sure you had enough?”
    Amy put a hand to her mouth and pretended to stifle back vomit. Patrick chuckled and said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with my charming wife’s subtle gesture.” He then looked at a drowsy Caleb seated on Lorraine’s lap, the toddler struggling to keep his head from rolling off his shoulders. “How ’bout you champ? You had enough?”
    “I don’t think he’s long for this world,” Lorraine said as she stroked Caleb’s fuzzy head as though petting a cat.
    “He always falls asleep too early,” Carrie announced.
    Amy looked at her watch. It was almost eight. “Yeah, well, you won’t be up much longer either, missy.”
    “I want to play with Oscar a little more,” Carrie said.
    The table of grownups exchanged looks. It was Norman who said, “Oscar?”
    “That’s what I’m calling him. Because he used to be dirty like Oscar the Grouch.”
    “Makes sense,” Patrick said with a wink to the rest of the table.
    “So can I go play with him?” Carrie asked.
    Amy looked over her shoulder and out onto