Page 10 of One for the Road

“Fuck off, Cal,” Frankenstein shot back.

Laughing, I got up to get myself a refresher on my beer. At the bar, the bartenders were just getting ready to change shifts. The new ones came in through the main door, wearing the same uniforms as the old ones. The Santa guy slipped back in with them. He was still in his Santa suit, even though he had left our party a while ago. He looked kind of different now, though. A little fatter, somehow. Not quite as fat as a Santa should be, but at least not as skinny as before. Maybe he had another party gig after ours and the hotel finally wised up and got him some fuckin’ padding for his outfit.

As the Santa passed me by, his eyes flicked to mine. He started to raise a hand toward his beard, like he was planning to adjust it, but then lowered it at the last second and turned his head away from me.

“You forget something?” I asked.

He nodded and grunted something that might have been a yes as he made his way toward the room where his throne was. He seemed pretty uninterested in talking. Not much of a ho-ho-ho type, that’s for sure. I hoped he did better with the kids.

Grabbing my beer from the new bartender, I went back to my seat at the couch with my brothers.

A couple minutes later, Zoe and Kendall came back down to the party room, without the rest of the old ladies. Zoe had her phone in her hand, half-distracted by it.

“How come they sent another Santa down?” she frowned as she scrolled on it. “Did the new one come back to see if there were any more kids who needed to see him?”

“Yeah, I noticed the guy was here again,” I said. “I guess he must have forgot something and came back for it.”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “This is definitely a different guy. This one has a tattoo on his hand. The last one didn’t.”

“That’s weird,” I said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. The other one definitely didn’t have tattoos at all that I could see.” She raised a brow. “It’s weird that a fancy hotel like this wouldn’t make this one put Santa gloves on or something to cover them up. Everyone else who works here is so uptight and straightlaced.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean.” I shrugged. “Maybe they’re hard up for labor or something.”

Trig cocked his head at his daughter. “Where’s your mom, Zo?”

“They’re all still up in the penthouse,” Zoe told us. “It was cool up there, but we got bored after a while.”

“There really is a grand piano in their living room,” Kendall marveled, eyes growing wide as she spoke. “With a big chandelier above it!”

“And a big black velvet love-pit sofa, too,” Zoe added. “I hope they clean that thingverywell between check-ins. Ew.”

Kendall looked up at Zoe, confused. “How come?”

“Ahem,” Trig cleared his throat. “Zoe, watch it.”

Zoe rolled her eyes at her dad. “Ugh. Sorry.”

“What?” Kendall repeated, frustrated.

“Nothing, kiddo. Zoe was just making a weird joke.”

Kendall sighed dramatically. “No one tells me anything.”

“Hey, Zo, go in and check on the younger kids in the other room, will ya?” Trig told them. “Make sure no one’s bleeding or anything. We got club business to talk about.”

That earned Trig double eye-rolls from the girls, but they did as they were told.

“Wow, Zoe making sex jokes,” Cal remarked after they left. “It’s freakin’ weird how she’s almost grown.”

“Yeah, I feel like an old goddamn man, but it creeps me right the fuck out that she even knows what sex is,” Trig groaned. “That girl is gonna be the death of her mother and me. There’s a boy she likes who’s been sniffing around her lately. Can’t remember his name. Taylor or Tyler or some shit. He’s got that hungry young wolf look in his eyes, you know? Makes me feel about ready to go full papa bear and beat his ass, every time I see him.”

“Parenting girls is way fuckin’ harder than parenting boys,” Levi commented.

“How the fuck do you know?” Trig laughed. “You have two daughters.”

Levi shrugged. “Yeah. And I don’t know what the hell goes through their mind half the time. At least I get how boys think.”

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