Really Old Bastards: Chapter 4

Meet Tracy's Mom, and Rex!

BEFORE YOU BEGIN!!!

You should know that this is a SEQUEL

You can read the first story here, but eventually I’m gonna take it down, and then you’ll have to buy the book (coming June 24th).

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CONTENT WARNING: Sex, gross humour, ageism, ableism, mild racism, pretty much all the same shit from the first book.

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What a fucking day I’ve had.

First off, one of the temps never showed up. No surprise, really, given she would roll her eyes every time someone asked her to do something, and spent the entirety of her last shift muttering, ‘I hate it here,’ under her breath. Honestly, I’ve never felt closer to anyone at work. Just wish I could remember her name.

Anyway, whatshername not showing up meant that I was expected to do the work of two. I mean, shit, I barely do the work of one on a good day. Angie was stressing me out too — running around like a headless fucking chihuahua, constantly up my ass and asking me to do the most pointless shit:

“Tracy, the floor needs swept.”

“Tracy, the floor needs mopped.”

“Tracy, are you sure you mopped the floor?”

“Tracy, don’t yell at me!”

Give me a fucking break.

But it’s okay, because now I’m on my couch, sipping red wine which only has a slight hint of vinegar from being opened last night, and watching the trashiest reality TV I could find. I give Rex a little scratch on his belly, “Yup, just you and me tonight, big boy.”

No, I didn’t get a dog — Rex is my new dildo. I named him Rex because he’s loyal, and every time I use him, he wrecks me. Get it? He… REX me? Never mind.

Just as I’m refilling my wine glass, my phone goes — another text from Dale:

Hey, how was work? My boss called in sick, so I didn’t do much all day lol :)

Man, what is it with this guy? You would think after ignoring him all day yesterday that he’d take the hint, but no! Maybe I should just block him. No, because then I’d feel bad. He’s a nice guy; it’s not his fault that I’m an asshole.

We did have fun that night though. I’ll admit he made me laugh a couple of times. He’s not my usual type, but still pretty cute. And he wasn’t half bad in bed either. Inexperienced, sure, but he had the basics covered pretty well — a little gentle foreplay before getting down and dirty with some hair pulling. Okay, the hair pulling might have been me.

Hmmm. What to do, what to do?

Ah, fuck it. Maybe seeing him again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

I give Rex another belly scratch. “Why don’t you take the night off, pal?”

Then I text Dale my address, hitting send before I can change my mind.

He replies quickly:

Um… was that message meant for me?

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Yes. Get your ass over here. Bring wine. And your penis.

***************

My own snoring is so loud that it wakes me up. That and my throbbing headache. Why does wine do this to me when I’ve been nothing but nice to it?

When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is Dale lying on my side of the bed, smiling at me.

“Morning,” he says, all happy and shit.

“Were you fucking watching me sleep, weirdo?”

“What? No. I just woke up.”

“Yeah, sure you did.” I pull the covers up to my neck. “You look creepy when you smile, you know.”

His creepy smile fades fast. “Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You have?”

“Once or twice.”

“By whom?”

“Uhm… my family.”

“Shit. That’s fucking rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well anyway, creepazoid, if you promise not to smile, we can have sex again.”

Dale goes all tight-lipped, clearly trying to hide a smile, but I’ll let him off this time. “I’d like that.”

Then he starts getting out of bed. What the fuck?

“I meant right now!”

He gives me the look of a man who’s never been offered morning sex. “What? Oh… neat.”

“Neat? What kinda word… oh, just shut up and get over here.”

He obliges, getting back under the covers and climbing on top of me.

But then he leans in for a kiss.

I put my whole hand in his face. “No. I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“Oh. Okay, sorry.”

He kisses my neck. God, it feels good — too good, in fact. I could almost fall asleep again.

His lips move down my chest, my nipples rock hard with anticipation.

But he goes right past them!

Now his head’s under the covers.

Shit, he’s kissing my stomach!

“Stop. Right. There.”

His innocent little face reappears. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you nuts? I haven’t showered either. What, you want a tuna melt for breakfast?”

“I was just returning the favor. You know, from last night when you—”

“Get back up here!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez!”

He’s back on top, about to slip it in when—

DING DONG!

I hate that fucking doorbell.

“Shit! Get off me.”

I jump up, cursing as I grab my dressing gown and head to the door. Whoever’s there can fuck off, unless it’s some delivery guy bringing me something good that I forgot I ordered.

I open the door, “What do you—”

Ah, fuckballs.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey!”

Look at her, standing there smirking, almost like she knows I have a guy in my bed. I swear, the woman has a talent for showing up at the worst fucking moments. Do you know how many times she walked in on me and my high school boyfriend going at it? Seven! Even a lock on my bedroom door couldn’t stop her.

“Listen, now’s not really a good—”

She gasps like she’s just seen a fucking ghost. Something I know more than a little about. Then she starts laughing. “Oh, Tracy, those bags under your eyes, ha! Late night, was it?”

“Not really.”

“I bet there was alcohol involved though. Come on, I’ll make you a coffee. You look like you need one.”

Then she breezes past me as though she owns the place.

“Yep,” she says, nose twitching as she sniffs the air. “Yep. I can definitely smell vino. Bit pungent, isn’t it? I’ll open a window for you.”

She’s off to the kitchen like a rocket, leaving me struggling to keep up.

“Mom, I’m perfectly capable of opening a—”

“Oh.” She gestures to the two dirty wine glasses on the counter. “I’d assumed you’d been drinking alone.”

“Nope. I, uh… had a friend over.”

“What’s that girl’s name again — Vivien? Violet?”

“Valerie. But no, it wasn’t her.”

“Well, who then?”

“Hi,” says Dale. Standing sheepishly in the kitchen doorway. At least he took the time to get dressed before making an appearance.

He holds out a hand. “I’m Dale. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs… Tracy.”

Mom isn’t smiling now. The thought of me bagging a younger, hotter guy is probably too much for her.

She looks at Dale like he’s just offered her a freshly squeezed turd. “So, you’re my daughter’s new friend?”

Dale takes his rejected hand and stuffs it in his pocket. “Uh, yeah. That’s me, I guess.”

Fuck, this is awkward, but in a funny way. I give Dale my sorry-we’re-not-having-morning-sex look. “Dale was just leaving, Mom.”

“Not on my account, I hope.”

Dale shakes his head. “Oh, not at all. I just, uh, have somewhere to be. It was nice to meet you though. Bye, Tracy. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Tracy.” Mom’s smile suddenly returns. “Why don’t you and Dale join me for dinner this Sunday?”

Oh, you fucking sly bitch. As soon as Dale leaves, I’m going to strangle her. “Oh, I’m not sure that Dale would…” I look to Dale for help.

“Yeah, I mean I don’t wanna impose or anything.”

“Nonsense,” says Mom, grinning sadistically. “I insist.”

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Author’s Note:

This was a really tricky chapter to write, and it’s because of that bitch Tracy’s Mom!

In the first book, all we hear from her is a few text messages she sends to Tracy, enough to let us know that she’s not the nicest person in the world. At the time, I honestly didn’t give her much more thought than that.

But I wanted her to be a little more than just a pain in the ass mom, so I’ve had to do a lot of thinking about her character, why she treats Tracy the way she does, and how best to introduce her. I hope I can do her justice as the story progresses.

Next time, we’ll find out if Tracy knows how to throw a party.

Oh, and a little reminder that the novel Old Bastards comes out one week today (June 24th). I’m so excited I could pee!