Chapter 53
Dad and I were still finishing our breakfast, when Charlie went to meet Jill, twirling his car keys.
Before he could step out the door, Berta yelled from the kitchen, "You bring her home, you clean up after."
Then she glanced at Dad and added, "Thank God you never get any."
And turning her gaze to me, she finished, "And thank God you're too young."
"Berta!" Dad said, clearly offended.
"What?" Berta shot back. "About you, it's true. And him—" she pointed at me, "he's a smart and polite version of Charlie. Which really makes me worry about how much I'll have to clean his room in the future."
"I'll give you a great raise," I said with a grin.
"See? Intelligent," Berta added, pointing at me again.
—
The next day, I was walking into the living room when the front door opened.
Uncle Charlie stumbled in, clearly drunk, behind him was some random guy I had never seen before, looking a little sober
"Hey, Uncle Charlie," I called out, trying not to laugh. "Bad luck again?" I asked, glancing at the guy trailing him in.
"Hey Jill—I mean, Bill, this is my nephew Jake," Charlie slurred, waving an arm in my direction.
"Hello, Jake," Bill said with a polite nod. "Charlie talked a lot about you last night."
I stepped forward and offered a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Bill."
The second our hands touched, my eyes widened.
Charlie definitely said 'Jill' first.
And now that I thought about it, I vaguely remembered one of Charlie's exes who had transitioned (in one of the episodes)
Without saying another word, I turned and bolted out.
"Where are you going?" Charlie slurred behind me.
I didn't answer. I headed straight to the desk in the living room. I remembered the photo—one I had once found in the drawer of that very desk and asked Charlie about. He told me it was 'Jill'.
I yanked open the drawer and grabbed the framed picture.
I walked back into the front door and stared at the photo, then looked up at Bill. Then back to the photo. Then to Bill again.
Finally, I held it out in front of him.
"Is this your sister," I asked, "or did you go to Europe and come back with a sausage?"
Charlie burst out laughing. "See? I told you he's a genius."
I looked back at Bill and shrugged. "Hey, I'm not judging. And I won't judge if Uncle Charlie wants to try something different."
Charlie stared at me with a deadpan expression, clearly unamused.
Bill, on the other hand, chuckled softly, shaking his head.
Just then, a car horn honked from outside.
"Hey, Mom's here," I said, heading toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow, Uncle Charlie. Good to meet you, Bill."
—
The next day, I was back in Malibu. I dropped my bag by the door and made my way into the kitchen, where Berta was already brewing coffee and Charlie was nursing what looked like the world's worst hangover.
"Rough night?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Charlie just grunted, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.
At that moment, the front door swung open again.
Evelyn walked in, arm in arm with Bill. They both looked surprisingly cheerful.
"Hi, everyone," Evelyn said brightly.
I blinked. "You two are together?"
"Yes," Evelyn replied without hesitation.
I made a face that would've made Michael Scott from The Office proud.
"Really, Jake? You're the last person I'd expect to judge," Evelyn said, raising an eyebrow.
"Believe me, Gramma, it's not what you're thinking," I replied quickly.
—
Later that day, I stepped out of my room and made my way to the living room.
Uncle Charlie was siting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Dad was pacing back and forth, muttering something under his breath (something about age difference)
I looked at Charlie, then back at Dad.
"I'm wondering if I need to start drinking too," I said dryly.
"Jake!" Dad snapped.
"Believe me, Alan, he has a point," Charlie mumbled, taking another sip of whiskey.
I walked over to the desk in the living room and pulled open the drawer again, taking out the same photo of Jill.
Holding it in one hand, I turned to Dad.
"Hey, Dad," I said casually. "What do you prefer: red pill or blue pill?"
Dad gave me a weird look. "When did you watch The Matrix?"
"But my choice is the red one," he added with a thoughtful tone. "Always the truth," he said with a faux-philosophical air.
Charlie murmured from the couch, "He says that, but he keeps taking the blue one."
Dad glared at Charlie.
I shrugged and added, "I don't fault him. You don't play pool with a rope."
Now Dad turned his glare on me.
"Anyway, here, Dad—your red pill," I said, handing him the framed photo of Jill.
"Okay... who is she?" Dad asked, staring at the photo.
"Jill. Charlie's ex-girlfriend," I replied.
"Okay... why am I looking at it?" Dad asked, confused.
"Just look at it," Charlie said from the couch.
"She's cute. Very tall. Broad shoulders," Dad said, nodding slightly—then his eyes widened in horror. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" he screamed.
"Welcome to the Matrix," Charlie muttered, sipping his drink without looking up.
"See, Dad?" I said, folding my arms. "I told you I need a drink."
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