Christmas, Part Deux

Where were we? Oh, yes - went to lunch, got back, had an uneventful day full of brooding (BG) and toss-the-pencil (me.) Finally, the work day wound down, and we headed to Alex’s. Since it was getting on in the evening, a lot of other people were probably already there, and it occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be able to take my after-work shower without being rude and/or tipping everyone to the fact that I was staying there. This threw me, as I really like to get in 40 minutes or so, just to de-stress. Out of the three I take per day, this is the shower I like best. I may be weird, but I am clean.

So I was already pretty unsettled, and then I started wondering how I was going to make like I wasn’t staying there, just for appearances’ sake. And how I was going to adapt to this sort of party. I gave myself a little mental pep talk. There’s no good reason to be nervous. I know people here. I’ll just have one beer. One. Then I’ll sneak out. I’ll say I’m beat. I’ll walk around the block, maybe hit a coffee shop, and call to see when I can come back. That’s good. That’ll work. Say Hi, say Bye, get going. It’s a plan.

I do like social occasions, really, but this was just, I dunno, normal for most, but strange for me. I don’t usually do small friends and family things. And usually, when I go to any party, big or small, people expect me to drink pretty much anything and everything I can find, cause a big ruckus, and end up facedown in the nachos, or in the coat closet or something.

But Alex was trying to have a nice, peaceful relaxed sort of thing, and it would be really out of line for me to wreck it by behaving like, well, like me, basically.

I’d brought some beer, to help with the just-stopping-in scenario, and also to cover for the fact that I’d cooked something. (No, I won’t tell you what. I have a reputation to maintain.) I popped the cap on one, and settled back in a corner to wait it out. But it turned out there were a lot of people I knew there, mostly cops and lawyers, and even the ones I didn’t know, we had at least a mutual acquaintance or two. I started to relax.

I found myself talking with a small group of guys about the police baseball league. Some of them looked kinda familiar, especially the older guy who came up a few minutes in. He looked at me for a minute, then at the busted hand, and said, “You’re Deck Logan’s kid, Mike, aren’t you? Heh. Pop any politicians lately?”

“Nossir. Just an immovable object. You knew my dad?” ‘Deck’ by the way, was short for Declan, but since he had a habit of taking swings at stuff, too, it all worked out. I put down the bottle so I could shake.

“Didn’t know him that well – more of a interested spectator. Watched him take a fall down three flights of stairs and get up and walk away like nothing happened.” Yup, that was Dad, made of rubber when he was on the sauce. “I’m Alex’s father, Johnny.”

Oookay. There went the comfort zone. As the introductions got made, I realized I was surrounded by two of her brothers, an in-law and a cousin. Cripes. I smiled and nodded, and hid the fact that I was seriously considering jumping over the couch and making a break for the door. Don’t get me wrong – they were nice guys. Regular cops – well, I think the cousin was a tech – but still. Well, as long as we kept talking about baseball, it’d be ok….

“So, what happened at the Detective’s Ball?” one of the brothers piped up.

I blinked, very slowly, to try to make this go away. No such luck.

They started repeating rumors they’d heard – no names, thankfully. It seems Alex managed to completely dodge any hint of involvement. However, having a certain reputation leads one into the thick of suspicion I got prodded at, hinted at and teased, and inside, I was praying for a quick death while smiling weakly on the outside. I started edging for the door, amid the nudge, nudge, wink, wink stuff.

I was almost out of there, and then Alex came over. I thought quickly, and used my mutant mind power to send her a signal. Go away, not a good time, you don’t know me, just go. Thing is, I don’t have mutant powers. Crap.

“Hey, Dad, Alan, Charlie,” She nodded to a few others, “ I see you’ve met Mike. He agreed to drag himself out of his cave for the evening.”

Ok, it’s fine, just don’t make physical contact. No touching, and we’re clear. Of course, she picked then to put her hand around my waist and give me one of those cheek pecks. An incriminating cheek peck, one of those that go a little too close to the mouth, just a quick little dart that’s supposed to mean “wait ‘til later,” but in this case now meant “Here’s the pervert who seduced me” to most of the guys seeing this. Great. Hear about Mike Logan? Died because of a peck. Wrong place, wrong time, and that’s it.

Her dad just smiled at her, thank the powers that be, and told her what a nice party it was. The brothers and the in-law and the cousin, however…I took the beer, and polished it off, in case it was really an invisibility potion. Again, no such luck. “So,” I said, “How ‘bout them Yanks?”

I think Alex knew exactly what was going on, because she just stood there with an evil – but cute – smirk. Why are the fun ones so much trouble?