Page 100 of Napkins and Other Distractions
“How’s it going?”
“With Vincent or the new software?”
“Both.”
“The software goes live this weekend. Or transferring. Or something like that.” Once again hungry for attention, Sweetums returns to my lap and I scratch his favorite spot, under his chin.
“And that’s it? It’s that simple?” she asks.
“I think so. I provided a new file from the old system. Now the young people take over. Vincent is on call. He has to push a few buttons on his laptop and check for things like errors and latency and mapping and bugs. Things I know nothing about. And frankly, I’d like to keep it that way.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, then everyone uses it and hopefully it helps illustrate the impact staff are having on students. We’ll have the last few months to turn the ship around.”
“Dad, you already know what an amazing school Lear is. Everyone knows.”
“I know. You know. Most of the community knows. The school board, I’m not so sure.”
“And you’re spending more time with him?” I hear rustling and then crinkling.
“Sour cream and onion?” I know my daughter’s taste in chips mimics my own.
“Guilty. Louis hasn’t found this bag yet.” More crackling, and then the loud crunching begins.
“Thick ones? With ridges?”
“Yup.”
“Great, now I want chips,” I say, licking my lips.
“You should’ve come here,” she mumbles through a full mouth.
“It sounds like Lia is up to no gouda.”
Silence.
“Oh, come on,” I say. “That was a good one.” I stop petting Sweetums momentarily, and he crashes his head onto my lap.
“Dad. No.” Gillian sighs. “But really, you should’ve stopped by so we could kibbitz with chips.”
“I roasted another chicken and wanted to pack it up for dinner. Vincent likes it. And I needed to check on Sweetums.” Hearing his name, Sweetums crawls up and rests his face on my free shoulder. “Corrine feeds him and leaves. This cat requires physical affection.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I love him. Sweetums is my baby.” Sweetums snuggles into my neck, purring like a motorboat.
“Not the cat. Vincent. Do you love him?” The chewing has slowed, and relative silence fills the air. Vincent. With his endless quirks, napkins, wipes, and showers. Vincent, who needs me to brush my teeth before a make-out session. And that sexy fucking bald head. And the way his eyes peer at me when my cock is in his mouth. Even at my age, I’m still learning new things about myself and a lot of that has to do with Vincent.
“I do.” Sweetums cuddles closer. “I told him. Vincent. That I love him.”
“Wait, what? When? You didn’t tell me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“Spill it.”
“It just kind of happened naturally. Last night. I told him. He told me. It wasn’t a big deal.”
