Page 43 of Midlife Crisis

“I didn’t have her. I said that so Elston would leave her alone. She’s a nice girl.” Poor Ronin, his innocence might get him in trouble, but then again, protecting a girl’s virtue might make him a hero. Elston’s eyes widen.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. I know for a fact that girls like a guy who can handle his stick more than a guy with balls.”

Ronin’s mouth falls open, and Elston’s eyes narrow.

“Drummer,” I add, patting my chest. “My stick knows what I’m talking about.”

I shouldn’t be talking like I’m a damn teenager, but I want to protect Ronin for some reason. Elston seems like an ass, and he needs to come down a peg or two. Ronin’s lips twist, fighting a smile as he realizes my childish joke. Then he leans toward his brother.

“Just leave her be.” He bumps his bigger brother’s shoulder with a weak push and exits the kitchen.

“Is that what you’re trying to do? Get in my mom’s—”

“You better be very careful with your next choice of words, kid.” I’m rubbing my chin again, holding back from standing to full height and letting him feel my presence. He disrespects his mother, and we have a big problem.

“You trying to date her?”

“And if I am?”

“You get me some beer, and I’m cool with that.” I should be stunned at the audacity, but he’s testing me, so I’ll play along.

“Even if I did drink, I’d know better than to give it to someone underage.”

“You don’t drink? What’s wrong with you?”

“I abused the privilege when I was your age.”

“Yeah.” Elston smirks, but he must see something in my hardening expression.

I reply, “Yeah.”

We’re silent a second, and he’s sizing me up. I want to hope it’s because he’s protective of his mother and not trying to be a punk.

“Getting drunk isn’t going to win you the girl, either.” Speaking from experience, I know this for a fact.

“What girl?” Elston’s brow pinches.

“The one you just teased your brother about.”

“He’s getting riled for nothing. I already have a girlfriend.” Something in Elston’s tone hints at uncertainty.

“Are you certain it’s nothing? Maybe he does like her.”

“He hasn’t made a move.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’d know. I’d have heard something.”

“You know, only dicks share stories, typically about something they haven’t done, in order to compensate for something else.” I lower my eyes, tipping my head, and Elston glares back again.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

“Son, I ain’t your old man, and if I were, you wouldn’t be talking to me like that.”

“He wouldn’t be talking to his father like that either,” Midge interjects, and my head spins to find Midge standing in the doorway to her kitchen. I wonder how much she heard. She’s holding out her hand toward Elston. “Phone and go to your room.”

“Mom. It’s Saturday night. I have plans.”