Page 10 of Tasty Tentacles

“Hold on a second, Orion.” I hear him shout, “Dear! Could you come here?”

He puts his phone on speaker and continues, “Orion is thinking about removing his TenTens. Son, tell us more.”

“I found a cosmetic surgeon I like, and he says it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh dear,” Mom says, worried. “Do you need us to come out?”

“No, Mom, I’ll be fine. He says it will probably be an outpatient thing, and I’ll just be bandaged up for a while. I think he’s planning to do it in phases.”

“Is it really what you want to do?” she says. “Your TenTens. Oh my. They’re so much a part of you.”

“Sometimes that’s the problem,” I say, perhaps too peevishly.

“You know what your mother means,” Dad says. “We’ll support whatever you want to do, but please give it some thought. You’d be giving up a lot, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” I say, confused again. Sometimes I’m ready to chop them off tomorrow, and other days, I just don’t know. “I won’t do anything rash, but I would like to be able to walk down the street like a normal person without scaring everyone.”

“Orion,” Mom says, using her full mom voice. “We’ve talked about that word before. Normal. There is nothing wrong with you. If you’re going to do this, don’t do it for other people. Think about what’s best for you, and make your decision based solely on that. Is somebody pushing you to do this?”

“No,” I lie. Actually, Enzo planted the idea, and it’s been growing with every funny glance and rude name. Maybe I have been hypersensitive lately, letting the unwelcome attention get to me more than usual. The holiday season is always a challenge.

Dad adds, “Just know, Orion, we love you and we’re here, any time, if you’d like to talk. But please, listen to your mother and give this some thought.”

“I will,” I say, intending to. “And thanks. I love you, too.”

“And, dear, you know you’re welcome here anytime. I can clear out your room, and you can come home to stay with us for as long as you need. We’d love to have you.”

“Thanks, Mom, I appreciate it, but I’m fine here. I like my house and Jake is happy here.”

“I hope you’re happy too, dear. I worry about you.”

“Thanks Mom. Really, I’m fine.” But am I really? Part of me wants to run home and hide away in my old room. Things were much easier then, sheltered from the world.

“So what are you up to today?” my dad says, catching my mood and changing the subject. I’ve said my piece, so I’m happy to get back to holiday chitchat and stop wallowing.

“I just had a great run with Jake, and I’m setting up my tree this afternoon. I’m looking forward to that!”

“Your mother did ours last week, and it looks great. The presents are already piling up!”

“Are the grandkids going to visit?”

“In the afternoon on Christmas,” Mom says, still sounding worried. “Give us a call, won’t you? Let’s do a video call and you can say hi to the whole brood. We haven’t seen your handsome face in ages.”

Everything is great in the world. After my nice chat with the folks at home, I got the tree set up and all the lights still work, so it’s ready for decorations. I also strung lights and garland around the front door, so Enzo will have some holiday cheer to greet him when he gets home. I tried my hand at a chicken jalfrezi this evening, and both Jake and I have judged it a success, although my tentacles are giving mixed reviews. The spices have set them on edge. The flavors are new and varied, but they’re upset with the spiciness. I got the heat two steps too high for them, and they’re letting me know it. Enzo will love it, though. For him, it’s always the spicier, the better.

I’m quenching them now with a bowl of ice cream in front of the TV. Jake is dead to the world, curled up on the couch next to me and whimpering something in his doggy dreams. I haven’t gotten down to any serious eating. I’m just letting them cool their tips in creamy vanilla while Janeway solves the next interstellar incident.

Life just can’t get better, and then it does.

I hear the key in the front door and Enzo storms into the living room, earlier than expected.

I put down my ice cream and grab a napkin. My tentacles must be a mess, so I cover my face and say, “You’re home early! This is a nice surprise.”

“Yeah, well, the day was a disaster. The new director is a total prima donna, so we decided to dance it all away after rehearsal, but then the music was tragic and Tonio was in a bitchy mood from the second we hit the club. Then Xavier took off with this tweaker who couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, and it went downhill from there.”

“That sounds disappointing. Did you get any dinner?”

“Not a bite, other than the swill they have for Happy Hour. Is there anything here?”