Page 32 of Accidentally Perfect

“I don’t understand what you’re doing here, Michael,” I say as I lean against the refrigerator. I looked for him in the most logical places, like the foyer, the living room, the family room. I even looked in Laney’s library and her first-floor laundry room. I didn’t think he would have the balls to stay, let alone grabbing himself a beer while he sits in the kitchen.

“I’m here for Laney. Whatever you orchestrated in Vegas is going to end badly for her, so I want to make sure I’m here.”

“Maybe you forgot what your tongue was doing less than a week ago. Your extracurricular activities have relieved you of your duties where my wife is concerned.”

“Your wife?” He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re comical, you know that, Whitmore? You have no clue when it comes to Laney, or the girls."

"And what? You think you're going to enlighten me?"

"I've put in my time, man. I've been patient and waited for invitations to come over 'when the coast is clear.'" He actually used air quotes. "I've played nice; I've been understanding when Laney didn't want me around the girls."

"That right there should tell you something, Michael. You didn't mean anything to Laney."

"Do you think you’re gonna come in here and steal what I have put months and months of effort towards?”

"Listen here, you piece of shit.” I push off the refrigerator and walk toward him. I lean into him making it so I’m merely inches away from his face. “It sounds to me like you’re waiting for a payout. It sounds like the money means more to you than your concern for any of them. I’m sure Vivian hasn’t kept Laney’s maiden name a secret. I’m sure once you figured that out, the only thing you saw was dollar signs and golden tickets.”

“I don’t see why you think this is any of your business.” He spits out his response.

“Laney, Amanda, and Addie are my business. You fucked your way out of having any say in what happens here.” I grab him by his arm, and yank him towards the front door.

“Get your fucking hands off me, you self-righteous prick.” He tugs but I don’t allow him to free his arm.

“I’ll be glad to, once you are no longer in this house.” I open the front door to flashes of light and people screaming out questions. “Now get the fuck out!” I yell and toss Michael down the steps watching him land on a few reporters, knocking them down. I slam the door. “Fuck!”

“Nathan?” Laney comes into the foyer wearing a white long sleeve t-shirt that’s tight in all the right places and a pair of faded jeans. Her hair is damp from the shower and her face fresh and makeup free. “What’s the matter? What happened? Where’s Michael?”

I hang my head for a moment to calm my temper. “I fucked up.”

“What do you mean you fucked up?”

I look up at her. “Well, I kinda manhandled Michael and threw him out your front door.”

“Okay, that’s not so bad.” She looks behind me. “What’s all the noise?”

“Well, that’s where I fucked up, because while I did that I may have yelled for him to get the fuck out in front of twenty or so reporters, um, paparazzi, and their cameras. They're in a frenzy right now. I can only imagine what Michael is spewing out there.”

“Shit.” She brings her hands to her mouth and starts laughing. “Oh, my God, my mother is going to have a field day with this.” She bends over laughing uncontrollably. “Can it get any better, I mean seriously? She’s gonna think you’re this savage brute. It’s gonna make her go bat shit crazy.”

“Laney, I’m—”

“No, don’t say you’re sorry. I think it’s funny as hell. Maybe I can finally make her life a living hell now that I’ve got you around, huh, Bruno? Wait, what was the big tough guy’s name from Popeye? Was it Beefcake? No, Bubbles. Wait no that’s not right. Brutus?” She is actually tapping the side of her head thinking of his name. “Oh its Bluto, you can be my Bluto. You can be my muscle to get the job done.” She comes to me and wraps her arms about my waist sighing in what sounds like relief. My arms come over her shoulders, and I pull her into me. I place a kiss on the top of her head; her hair smells like heaven.

“I’ll always be your muscle, little lady.” I try my best John Wayne voice, but I know it falls short; it still makes her laugh though.

“How are you going to get to the hospital now?”

“Do you have a car?”

“Yes, it’s under the house in the garage.”

“Then let’s go, sweet girl and get you to the hospital. I left the girls’ horses in the living room on the couch. I had to play a little hide and seek to try to find Michael.”

She looks up to me. “Where was he?”

“Drinking your beer in the kitchen.”

“Figures. He’s such a loser.” Now that makes me laugh.