Four Letter Feelings (The Jeremy Lewis Series Book 1)

by Lasairiona McMaster

  Ana answered that she’d put Jeremy’s apple pie in the oven and it would take about twenty-five minutes to warm up and, in the meantime, she suggested they play a card game while they wait.

  “A card game?” Jeremy asked, intrigued.

  “Yeah. What do you think Mom? Pim? You think it’s time for some Ligretto? Teach the new boy how to get his ass kicked?”

  “Wow. Well. That’s some fighting talk right there, AnaBanana,” he goaded. “I can see competitiveness runs strong in this family.”

  “Let’s do it,” Cindy answered, setting her crochet to the side. “If anything will wake Art from his post-Thanksgiving coma for dessert it’ll be those two killing each other over Ligretto.” She smiled and shook her head. “I guess it wouldn’t be a typical Williams’ Thanksgiving without a side of carnage and sibling warfare now, would it?”

  When Ana grinned, if Jeremy hadn’t known better, he could have been convinced she was AJ’s twin. The resemblance was striking. As it turned out, Ligretto was a high-paced card came, the aim of which was to get rid of all your cards faster than all the other players by discarding them in the middle of the table.

  “Right, here’s the deal,” Ana began very seriously. “As you can see, the cards are separated into four colors. Red, green, yellow or blue and each are numbered one to ten. Each player gets their own ‘deck’ of forty cards, ten of each color, which are marked with a distinctive design on the back. That shows which cards belong to which player, okay?”

  “Okaaaaay…” Jeremy was already questioning the complexity of this game and whether he would be able to comprehend it with such a full stomach.

  “Before we start, everyone shuffles their own cards and puts ten cards into a ‘stack’ face up on the table. Three cards are laid out next to this pile and are called the ‘row’, the rest of the cards you hold in your hand.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. Right. So, the game starts when someone shouts ‘Ligretto’, when it starts, you put your cards on the table, building colored piles in ascending numerical order. For example, you’ll put the yellow two, on top of the yellow one.”

  “And let me guess, the yellow three doesn’t go on top of the blue five?”

  “Jeremy!” Ana glared at him. “The rules are incredibly important. It’s a fast-paced game and you might very well end up knocked on your ass. Pay attention and you might learn something. Though I’m incredibly proud of you knowing that three comes after two, good boy!”

  She gave him a patronizing head-pat and Jeremy chuckled.

  “Knocked on my ass? I thought card games fell under no-contact sport!”

  “Not this one.” Ana grinned. “Shut up— or we’ll burn the damn pie. Y’know what? Let’s just turn the pie back off until we’ve played a game.”

  She paused to turn the oven back off. “New piles can be started at any time, if you come up with a ‘one’ during play. Like I said, it’s fast-paced. You snooze, you lose, and there is a real chance you could end up shoved, elbowed, pushed or tackled. Also, if you, and say for example Pim, both have a green two and you try and put it on top of the same one, the winner is the one who is clearly the person whose card is underneath. Sounds obvious, but you’d be amazed at how often it comes into question.”

  “This game sounds insane.” Jeremy looked at Cindy and AJ for reassurance, but all he saw was gleeful competitiveness sparkling in their eyes. “Oh, god. This is gonna hurt isn’t it?”

  “Not finished explaining!” Ana announced. “When one of your three ‘row’ cards are played, the space gets filled up with the top card from the ‘stack’. The winner is whoever gets through their stack pile first and calls out Ligretto to end the round.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Got it?”

  “Nope.”

  “You will. It’s easier to play than explain.”

  “Then what the hell did you just explain it all to me for?”

  “Just in case you’re not a visual learner. I had to say I gave you all the information I could so you had a fighting chance.”

  “A—”

  “GO!” AJ’s voice boomed and pandemonium ensued. Jeremy took a step back from the table, holding onto his cards and not making a move while the others burst into motion. The scene in front of him was arms and flashes of color, moving so quickly he could barely keep up. A blur of arms reaching across the table and the occasional swear word when two people made the same ‘move’ at the same time. At one point, AJ narrowly missed smacking his mother in the face as he retracted his arm from placing a card with a triumphant flourish of his hand. It was organized chaos. Jeremy picked up the rules quickly and by the time they got to the end of the first round, Jeremy was confident that he could join in.

  “You’ve picked it up already, haven’t you?” AJ asked, as Jeremy pushed his way into the small circle around the table.

  “How can you tell?”

  “At the start of the round you looked traumatized, now it looks like someone located the light switch.”

  “Something like that,” Jeremy answered. “It looks like a pretty cool game.”

  “Okay, I’m keeping score,” announced Cindy. “My children have been known to mis-report their scores at the end of a round, to one-up each other, Jeremy. Ten rounds. Lowest score at the end, wins.”

  ***

  As AJ sat devouring his ‘victory pie’ as he was referring to it, Ana sat smoldering in the corner. They’d warned Jeremy that she was a sore loser, and they weren’t lying. During the course of the game a mug had been broken and an abandoned half-glass of champagne had been somehow knocked over the playing surface. They’d given the cards a quick wipe, sat them to the side to dry and used different cards to continue the game.

  “I can’t imagine more people playing that game. You guys had, what, ten sets of cards? That would be friggin’ insane.”

  “You have no idea,” Art, who had indeed been woken up by the kerfuffle, answered. “It’s supposed to be banned under this roof,” he added somberly.

  “Banned?”

  “Yeah. I don’t like to talk about it.”

  Jeremy looked at AJ expecting him to show some kind of sign that Art was kidding. Instead, he was grimacing.

  “Still sorry about that, Dad.”

  “It’s fine, Son. The dentist fixed my chipped tooth and my lip only needed one stitch. Your mother was mortified when someone asked me if I was a beaten husband when we had lunch in town the next day, though.”

  AJ sighed deeply. He’d clearly heard the tale any number of times, and he clearly still felt bad about it.

  “It really was an accident, Dad,” Ana offered.

  “I know, darling. But there’s a reason we make sure there’s at most four or five people playing that damned game and it’s the very same reason I don’t play it anymore.”

  “Sounds more dangerous than a hockey game,” joked Jeremy.

  “I’m still traumatized,” answered Art, without humor.

  “Alright, Art, that’s enough reminiscing. Eat your pie!” she tutted and rolled her eyes. “You can see why they need supervision to play that blasted game, Jeremy.”

  “Oh yes, Mrs. W. I could tell you hated the game and were only playing to keep them in check.” He winked at her.

  “Shhh! There’s very interesting sport on the television, Jeremy. Finish your pie.”

  “I don’t think I can. I think I might burst.”

  Jeremy slid off the sofa, ungracefully landing in a heap on the floor.

  “Sounds like Thanksgiving alright!” AJ raised his drink to toast his fallen friend.

  “Someone stick a fork in me, I’m done.”

  “Talk about a drama llama, Jer.” Ana laughed

  “Never mind a drama llama, I’m an expanda-llama right now,” he answered, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. “Someone wake me up when it’s Christmas!”

  ***

  Later that night, after Cindy, Art and Ana had gone to bed, AJ and Jere
my sat at the dining room table with a plate of cold cuts, cheeses and crackers.

  “Your mom’s gonna kick our asses for having this midnight feast.”

  “It’s after 1 a.m. for one, and for two, it serves her right for leaving it defenseless in the fridge.”

  “I’ll tell her you said that. It’s so freakin’ good, though.”

  “Agreed! Next year you’ll have to make double the amount of those sprouts, Jer. They were epic.”

  “Next year, eh? Think I’ll get invited back then do ya?”

  “With food like that? Abso-freakin’-lutely. Not to mention you clean up after yourself, she loves people who clean up after themselves, and good manners, she loves good manners. You going back up north for Christmas?”

  “Yeah. I gotta get through my parents’ wedding anniversary first, it’s a few days before Christmas. Then Christmas eve is my mom’s birthday.”

  “Holy shit, that’s an expensive few days, man.”

  “Tell me about it! I’m lucky they’re rich, I guess.” He shrugged.

  Poor little rich boy, Jer. Do you hear yourself right now? Man you can be a douche sometimes!

  “Any ideas what you’re going to get them? Do you get them something for each thing? Or one big gift? I wouldn’t even know how to handle that, Jer. My folks are lucky if I remember to get everyone Christmas gifts. Ana keeps me on track with the birthday calendar.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Usually I get a series of small things. It’s not about the money, right? It’s more the thought behind it. This year I’m thinking of getting them some theater tickets.”

  “They theater types? My parents love that shit, too.”

  “Yeah, my mom can’t get enough of musicals, man. I was thinking I’d get them a couple pairs of tickets to City Theater in Detroit.”

  “My parents went there once, I think. It’s a small theater, right? It’s the quirky theater?”

  “Yeah, not even five hundred seats, it’s got the hockey café there, too. It’s a Red Wings themed restaurant, which we can forgive them for, eh?”

  AJ chuckled. “I mean, maybe. It depends on the day.”

  “They make great in-house soups and chilies which my mom loves, they’ve got a bunch of draft beers – Dad goes to his happy place for a good draft beer – and they do the best mac and cheese I’ve ever tasted. They say it’s just pulled pork on top, but I think they sprinkle it with crack cocaine or some shit. It’s the best. They do all kinds of things at that theater, concerts, plays and comedy shows. I think I heard on the radio that Godspell is going to be on in January. My mom loves Godspell, so that’s a no brainer. Just gotta get my ass in gear and buy the damn things. What about you? Any ideas about what you’re going to get your family for Christmas?” Jeremy asked, popping some cheese bread in his mouth.

  “Ha! Sure. Ask me on Christmas Eve!”

  Chapter 14

  It didn’t take long for Jeremy to find his brother, Scott’s profile on Facebook, and the ease with which he’d found out about his entire life made Jeremy glad that his own online presence was minimal. He’d learned that Scott had married a woman called Jane and they lived in New York City with their dogs, Hugo and Iesha. He learned that Scott was the manager of a local electronics store and Jane was an elementary school teacher.

  As Jeremy walked through the streets of New York on his way to his brother’s work, he felt sick. He was having second thoughts about this spur-of-the-moment trip across country and as he stood on the sidewalk outside the store, he wondered what the hell he was doing there. Scott had made himself incredibly clear when he left that he didn’t want anything more to do with them and yet, here Jeremy stood, staring at the shop front, with a tiny flame of hope in his belly.

  He had no idea what possessed him to hop on a flight and travel across the country, but he had. He’d convinced himself that with Christmas quickly approaching maybe the season of good will and forgiveness would tug at Scott’s heart strings, and it was always harder to say no to someone face to face than it is over a text or email. The door opened and a customer maneuvered his way through holding a large box. Jeremy jumped forward to hold the door and after the giant tv screen had cleared the way, he forced himself to step inside, hearing the door close behind him with a soft thud.

  The store wasn’t particularly big, or busy, and he immediately recognized Scott standing behind the counter helping a customer with a phone.

  Holy shit, he looks exactly the same! Older, obviously, but he hasn’t changed much at all. Shit. I was not prepared for this. His stomach felt like it had tied itself into a knot.

  “I’ll be with you in a second,” he called, not looking up from the problem in his hands.

  Jeremy shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet, his stomach churned and his breathing felt shallow and uncooperative. Right when he made the decision to turn and walk back outside into the fresh air and away from the situation brewing in front of him, the people his brother had been helping walked past him and left, leaving Jeremy face to face with his brother.

  “How can I help y—” his voice stalled as he walked towards Jeremy behind the counter, recognition clouding his face. “J-J-Jeremy?” he spluttered, his face displaying a myriad of emotions but Jeremy was unable to label any of them. Despite the obvious physical similarities, the man in front of him was a stranger.

  The stranger’s eyebrows pulled together into a deep frown. “What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

  “I— eh…” Jeremy looked down at his feet, willing the oxygen in the room into his lungs and feeling like he might pass out at any moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to launch himself across the counter and pull his big brother into a hug. “I came to see you,” he said, quietly. “To talk, I guess.” He lifted his gaze and met the expectant eyes of the brother who had abandoned him all those years ago. “To see if you were ready to maybe come home yet?” he added hopefully.

  Scott sighed and his shoulders dropped. “Jer,” he started, running his hand through his wavy hair just like Jeremy often did. “I won’t ever be ready to go home. That’s not my home anymore and,” he paused and swallowed. “Those people aren’t my family anymore.”

  “They could be,” Jeremy interrupted, taking a step forward.

  Scott held his hands up and shook his head. “Jer, I’m sorry. I don’t know what brought you down across the border and honestly, I don’t care. I have a life now, here, in New York and I have no intention to make peace with Dad. You don’t know what it was like for me, living there, how he was…”

  Fuck, that’s harsh. I didn’t do squat to you. You’re my big brother, man. Why don’t you even want to see me? What did I do?

  His breath hitched and his voice was thick with emotion.

  “You wasted your time, Jer. I don’t want to see them again. I made myself clear when I left and I’m not going to dredge up the past and go through it all over again.”

  He watched as his brother took a deep breath. His voice was steady and he seemed calm. Gone was the anger Jeremy had remembered seeping from his every word the last time they’d been together. Gone were the shaky, passionate blasts his brother had spewed at his parents. Instead, calm resignation and acceptance, and while Jeremy could hear emotion in his voice, it was controlled.

  “What about me?” He knew he sounded desperate, maybe even pathetic, small and certainly childlike. Growing up, his brother had been his hero and then one day he was gone.

  “I’m sorry, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy swallowed down the lump in his throat.

  “I can’t go back. I can’t look back. I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t understand, Scott!” Jeremy huffed in frustration, pulling his hands from his pockets and thumping the counter in front of him with both fists clenched. “What the fuck is your deal? Were we that bad of a family? Huh?”

  He could feel anger rising in his chest and his hands started to shake. He didn’t understand how
someone could just walk away and leave their family without looking back and he desperately wanted to understand.

  The door opened as his hands connected with the counter, he glanced over his shoulder to see who had come into the store and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

  “I’m sorry Jeremy, I don’t want to see you. You should go.”

  The cool, dismissive tone with which Scott brushed him off, cut deeply. Even if he could understand what their parents had done to upset Scott to push him to total estrangement, Jeremy couldn’t understand why Scott would want him out of his life, too. Confusion and anger filled his mind as he stormed out onto the sidewalk and doubled over, hands on his knees to try and encourage his lungs to fill up with air.

  I shouldn’t have come here. I knew he wouldn’t want to see me and I came anyway. What the fuck was I hoping to achieve? Did I think he’d magically change his mind when he saw me?

  He sucked air in sharply through his nose, and blew out through his mouth, repeating the action until he felt less like he was going to fall over and steadier on his feet. As he stumbled his way back to his hotel, with shaking hands he changed his flight, opting not to stay one minute more than he had to in New York. He berated himself for thinking he could have any positive effect on his brother’s monumental stubbornness. He cried as he meandered through the streets, finally mourning the loss of a brother he rarely let himself admit he missed dearly. The hope he’d clung to as he deplaned in Newark airport was gone, it had been replaced by embarrassment and shame at the neediness which had driven him to talk to Scott.

  But I guess at least now I know.

  Chapter 15

  “So, have you come up with any ideas for what to get your family for Christmas?”

  “I told you to ask me on Christmas Eve.”

  “Dude. It’s close enough.”

  “It’s not even. Ok, fine, it’s like the twentieth. What are you even doing over there? You’ve just finished your last exam for the semester, all of your assignments are handed in, what could you possibly need your laptop for right now.”