Randy stood when Grant stepped out onto the back porch.
“So, this is where all the antisocial misfits are hanging out,” Grant winked at his sister as he embraced his dad.
Joanna patted the swing. “Sit, prop your feet up and make a wisecrack about the lunacy of this day; all the cool kids are doing it.”
Grant sat down next to his sister as he eyed Randy. “Two questions. How did you manage to sneak a cold one past Granny, and, better yet, do you really think that is the best way of going about winning Mom back? She hates when you drink.”
“So, this Jack character…” Randy folded his arms.
“Can we not talk about him, please?” Grant grumbled. “I’d much prefer to ignore reality today rather than actually deal with it.”
“What kind of cockamamie notion convinced your mother it was okay to invite me to Thanksgiving if she was planning on showing up with him?” Randy grumbled.
“Perhaps the only thing more shocking is that you actually showed,” Grant shrugged. “I could have lost good money on that bet.”
Randy exhaled loudly. “Spending a day of thanks with my estranged wife, her old flame and her piece of work of a mother…how else would a man want to spend a holiday?”
“Yes! Can we please talk about Granny for a minute?” Grant insisted. “As a child, did I do something that I don’t remember…kick her dog, hide her false teeth, light her homemade curtains on fire…?”
Joanna laughed loudly, flashing back to earlier in the day when Granny had told her as subtly as she seemed capable of that “it is such a shame … a woman of your age ought to be married off by now, child.”
“That is just Dottie Miller for you, Son,” Randy shook his head. “I have always sworn that your mother was blessed with her father’s charm and personality. That is until Granny’s conniving rubbed off on her, and she set me up to watch her flaunt her newfound happiness on a day that is supposed to be about family togetherness.”
“Thank God I won’t be getting the eyeful I got when you decided to unveil your newfound happiness,” Grant snickered. “Man, talk about scarred for life…”
“Grant…” Joanna grumbled.
Randy swatted at Grant and cleared his throat.
“I’m just saying…let’s not put all the blame on Mom,” Grant shrugged.
“Give me some dirt on Jack,” Randy insisted.
“You’re out of luck,” Grant sighed. “The guy is practically a modern day Ward Cleaver with a mean hook shot.”
“Well, if I’m expected to sit down to a meal with the man, the least you can do is brief me on what sort of moves he’s been making on my wife,” Randy bellowed.
“It’s not like that,” Grant shook his head, disinterestedly.
“She’s living with him!” Randy declared.
Grant rolled his eyes. “He sleeps on the couch…which probably doesn’t really serve to ease your fears since the couch was your substratum of choice when you got your game on with Cindy Lou Who.”
“Why are you defending Jack?” Randy accused.
“I’m not defending Jack,” Grant grumbled. “I’m not defending you. I’m Switzerland.”
“I don’t know what your mother was thinking, inviting him over,” Randy huffed. “I think she’s toying with me and using him to make me insanely jealous.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Grant asked.
“More or less,” Randy grumbled.
Joanna rolled her eyes. “And, by that, he means Jack attempted to shake hands and say hello, but Dad ignored his hand and offered a slight nod instead. Beyond that, we have been out here since we arrived.”
“The only other option would have been to deck the sorry sucker, but I figured that wouldn’t help my case,” Randy growled.
“Yeah, Mom has this crazy rule about no violence on major holidays, so you probably made the right choice,” Grant nodded.
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Randy snapped. “Conversing with my wife’s suitor isn’t an option; Leah, as per usual, won’t even look at me; Granny clearly thinks I am the scum of the Earth, and I can’t even stand to look at Wally or Rachel right now.”
“Can you believe she’s pregnant?” Joanna rolled her eyes. “And with Wally Pate’s love child no less!”
Grant crossed his arms. “Well, as I like to say…you roll around with the pigs long enough and eventually you start smelling like ‘em.”
“Really? That’s something you like to say?” Joanna smiled at him.
“What can I say? Tennessee has grown on me,” Grant shrugged.
“That’s what I hear,” Joanna raised her eyebrow.
“Let’s talk about you for a minute, Soldier,” Randy practically demanded. “I was talking to someone the other day who reminded me that Bob Knight coached basketball for the Black Knights at West Point. He coached Mike Krzyzewski who played for the program while he was a cadet and later went back to coach himself.”
“That is great; I’ll be sure to give your regards to Coach K when the Tar Heels are running all over his Duke Blue Devils next season,” Grant nodded.
Randy ignored Grant. “I was making reference to the fact that West Point has a reputable basketball program, even boasting two of the most famous coaches in the game, since that seems to be a crucial selling point with you.”
“Yeah, you’ve done your research. I see that,” Grant said, putting his arm around his sister.
