Page 43 of False Comeback

“So you decided to make her a fancy French dessert,” I teased.

Rob snorted as he pulled two beers out of the fridge. “This is just the practice run. You can’t be caught with your pants down and your dick waving in the breeze when you’re trying to impress the ladies, Vin.” He waved one of the cans at me. “Well, the gentlemen, in your case.”

I chuckled, peeling an arm off the table to take the beer. “I don’t spend a lot of time with gentlemen.”

Crossbody’s infuriatingly beautiful face popped into my mind, with its elegant features and sultry eyes, so I quickly cracked open the can and gulped down some beer.

“Isabella’s a real lady,” Rob was saying, dropping into the other seat with a sigh. “All refined and whatnot. Drinks champagne cocktails.”

“So you’ve been for a drink with her?” I asked with a sly grin. “Does she have a crush on you too?”

“Course she does.” Rob held back a burp after sipping his beer, leaning back and resting a foot on the table. He was wearing the novelty werewolf slippers I’d got for him ten Christmases ago. The soles were threadbare, but he was a sentimental bastard, so he hated throwing things out. Especially stuff I’d given him.

I grinned and tapped my beer can against his as I echoed him. “Course she does. You’re a catch, Uncle Robbie.”

I hoped I looked like him when I got older. He was wiry, like me, but still fit. His long, once dark hair was now streaked heavily with pure white and tied back into a bun, and his horseshoe moustache was more salt-and-pepper than the deep grey-black it had been when I was little.

I was pretty sure I’d look fucking great with a horseshoe moustache too.

“I know,” he said with a tiny smirk. “You take after me there, Vin.”

I chuckled, sipping my beer. “I take after you in most things.”

“Yeah.” There was a small pause, and I tensed up a little because I thought I knew what was coming. And I was right when Rob awkwardly asked, “Your ma gone now?”

“Yeah.” I gulped down some beer so I wouldn’t have to say more.

Uncle Rob was my dad’s brother, but he hadn’t seen my dad for years. Neither had I. And my mom was… not great. She wasn’t really in my life, except when she showed up to crash on my couch and act like she was eager to spend time with me until she felt an appropriate amount of time had passed before she could ask for some money and bounce again.

And I always let her. I let her stay, hoping maybe this time would be different, and let her take some cash when I realised it wouldn’t be and her presence had started dragging me down, making me feel tense and edgy and like a confused little kid again. But I still let her, every time, because… well, she was my mom.

She’d had no interest in being a parent when I was little, preferring to drink and party. I’d stayed with my uncle a lot as a kid—more than I’d known was normal until I got a bit older and realised that most other kids’ moms didn’t drop them off at a relative’s place on a Thursday night and not show back up again until the following Monday, pale and hungover and irritable.

When I was seven, I’d heard my mom and Rob arguing by Mom’s car after she’d dropped me off yet again. I’d stayed in the trailer playing video games, and after hearing a car door slam and tyres spinning over dirt and gravel, Rob had come back inside looking ashen.

“Your ma said she won’t be back for three weeks,” he’d told me hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I’d replied, eyes still glued to the TV screen. “Some guy has been staying on our couch and she said they’re going to Vegas to gamble.”

Rob had stiffened as he perched beside me on the lumpy sectional sofa. After a few seconds of silence, he’d said, “I was thinking… How would you feel about staying here with me, Vinnie?”

“I always stay with you when she goes away,” I’d replied absently.

“No, I mean…” He’d gently taken the controller out of my hands. “Even once your ma gets back. How about you live here with me, and she can come and visit you when she’s…” He’d struggled to find the right word for a second. “Around.”

I’d looked up at him as I thought about it. “Do you have a lot of people staying on your sofa all the time? Because it always makes me feel really weird when I have to get up in the night to pee and there’s just a bunch of strangers in the living room.”

I remember the way his jaw had clenched hard. “No. There’d be no one else ever staying here. Just me and you. And you could take the bedroom, so I’d be the only one sleeping on the couch.” He’d nudged me gently and managed a smile. “No room for any stragglers.”

After a moment of consideration, I’d shrugged and said, “Okay.”

His face had broken into a big smile, stretching his moustache. “Well okay then.”

I’d grinned back, suddenly feeling excited. Rob had always played games with me, cooked me proper dinners, taken me to school and the park or skating rink on weekends and made sure there was enough hot water for me to have a bath. He’d looked after me, and it hadn’t been until that moment that I’d realised I could have that all the time. Not just for half the week.

I owed my uncle everything. He’d bought me my first pair of skates. He’d taken me to all my wrestling practices and watched all my tournaments, then all my roller derby bouts when I started competing in that too. He’d taught me how to cook and clean and drive. He was the first person I came out to when I was thirteen, and he’d pulled me into a tight hug and told me he loved me.

Sure, my mom sometimes told me she loved me too, but only once I’d given her cash so she’d leave. She only said it in that casual buddy way—‘Love ya, hon!’—when she was already halfway out the door.