Page 62 of Fourth Base with the Alpha
“No, we never went. We couldn’t afford it as kids. When Maria got sick I wrote to them, asked if they’d give us tickets. One visit before she passed. But I never heard back.”
“Dicks.”
“I suppose they must have thousands of requests like that every year.”
He grunts and the murderous look in his eyes suggests he’d like to rampage through the park and strangle every gleeful over-sized mouse.
“One day when I’m a high-flying music executive, I’m going to rock up there with Maria’s necklace and smuggle it into Cinderella’s castle.”
He nods and points to the screen. “This one looks acceptable. It has Brad in it.”
“It does,” I say, smothering a smile, deciding I won’t tell him old Brad has his brains blown out a quarter of the way into the movie.
To my surprise, he doesn’t bitch his way through the movie, even when Brad meets his untimely demise, he keeps on watching, his arm secure around my middle and my head resting on his chest.
He may be my fake-boyfriend but he’s also the most charming one I’ve ever had.
* * *
When the filmis over and they’ve served us the best meal I may have eaten in my life, along with caviar (disgusting) and champagne (delicious), I turn to him.
“I’d better swot up.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, do my research on the family situation? It’s the kind of thing a girlfriend would be expected to know.”
“I don’t know. I never talked to my other girlfriends about my family.”
“Did you ever take a girlfriend home to meet your family?”
He blinks. “No.”
“Exactly. So …” I tuck my feet under me again and pull the blanket the air steward gave me over my lap. “Tell me everything.”
He groans like I’m pulling out his toenails in a bid to make him reveal state secrets.
I simply wait. He shuffles in his seat, combs his finger through his hair. Then caves.
“Klara, my sister, is meeting us at the airport. She insisted on picking us up.”
“Is she your big sister or little?”
“Big.”
“You only have one?”
“I have three siblings. She’s the only one I talk to.”
I squeeze his hand, wondering what I’ve walked into. Three siblings and he only talks to one. I should have asked more questions.
“Klara was like a second mother to me. Especially when my dad was being such a nasty dickhead.”
“Why don’t you talk to your other siblings?”
“I guess we all got out of the house as soon as we could.” He shifts on his seat. “I’m not saying it was abusive or anything. Just not exactly … warm. Dad always made it clear we had to make our own way in life, no freebies, no handouts. You reached 18 and out you went. Klara’s the only one who hung about in Sweden. My brother lives in Australia now. My other sister married a German.”
“Did your dad remarry?”
