Leslie and I are currently moving all my stuff from the old house that won’t fit into the guest room into the basement. Leslie owns a fair amount of land, and he’s got a bigger house than me, something that he’s always rubbed in my face.
His wife, Helen, with jet black hair and eyes like a tiger, is moving all of Lavender’s things into the other guest room, which Leslie had already converted into a saferoom. As I’m walking out to grab another box, I see Helen bend down to grab a dropped toy, and I can’t help but stare at her ass for a few seconds. Her perfect, heart-shaped pillow of an–No! Stop it! That’s your brother’s wife! Have some decency!
I move on as quietly as possible, hoping she didn’t notice me, or my raging hard-on. I think I’m going to go to Amsterdam again, as soon as Lavender’s settled in.
You are Lavender, and you think “moo-ving” looks like a lot of hard work! You’re glad you don’t have to help.
You’re sitting on your bed, the same bed you slept on at the old housie, and you can tell, because it still smells like you, wrapped in your bestest uncle purple blankie, playing with some of the silly bubble stuff that goes pop when you push the bubbles hard enough, and you see your daddeh.
Why is he looking at auntie Helen’s poopie place like that? And what’s that bump at the top of his weggies?
By the time everything is put away, the sun has gone down, and Leslie and I start wolfing down some of Helen’s excellent cooking. Lavender was treated to a bowl of Helen’s famous spaghetti, a special moving-day treat.
“So, Chris, what are you going to do about work?”
“I quit. Now that I’m living here, I can’t drive to and from the city every day, I’d be spending half the day on the road. I can’t afford the gas.”
“Well shit, don’t you worry. There’s plenty of work around here. I’m sure I can get you a job, I know the guy in charge.” Leslie winks at Helen. Of course you know the guy in charge, you see him in the mirror every day!
“It will be so nice to see Lavender every day, though. She’s such a sweetheart.” Helen notes, stroking Lavender’s fluff as she coos.
“Wavendew wub auntie Hewen.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
“That’s true. It’ll be like having another kid around the house.” Leslie sighs wistfully. “Oh, that reminds me, James is flying in tomorrow.” James is my nephew. He’s already grown up and went off to college on the other side of the country. I try to be a good uncle, but honestly, I don’t like the kid. He dresses in all black and plays heavy metal at full blast in the middle of the night. Last time he was here, I’m pretty sure I caught him browsing an abuser website on his phone. He claimed he was looking at gay porn, and fake-pleaded not to tell his dad. Leslie can’t tolerate fluffy abuse, so I can understand why he’d rather Leslie not know, but really dude, gay porn? There are better excuses!
This might sound rich, coming from the guy who left a garden full of impaled fluffies behind in the city, but I think that kid’s got a lot of problems. Kid’s got “future school shooter” written all over him. Last time he was here, I “accidentally” looked in his suitcase, on a hunch, and found a catalog of fluffy torture implements. I sure as hell don’t trust him around Lavender.
“Well, then we’re gonna have a full house this weekend!”
“Cuzin Jaymes am comin? Wavendew nu wike cuzin Jaymes.” Lavender pipes up. She stopped eating the moment his name was mentioned.
I’m glad me and Lavender are on the same page. And the page says “FUCK JAMES”.
“Honestly, Lav, I’m not too fond of him either. I mean,” seeing the looks on Leslie and Helen’s faces, “he is my nephew, and I love him and all, but I don’t really like him. I wouldn’t exactly share a beer with the kid. You know what I mean?”
Leslie sighs again. “Look, between you, and me, and Helen, James is a fiend from Hell. He thinks I don’t know what he gets up to, but I do know, there’s Foal-In-A-Can machines right on the campus! But, he’s our only son, and we love him, and every night I pray to any god who will hear me that he will find his way.”
“If he doesn’t get his act together, he’ll find his way into a prison cell. I don’t think fluffies will keep him entertained for long.” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that within earshot of Lavender. She looks more worried now.
Another sigh. “I know, Chris. I know.” Leslie suddenly looks at least three decades older. “I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with him. I can’t help but feel like we did something wrong. Like his problems are our fault.”
Helen seems to notice the drastic change in tone. “So… uh… is everyone ready for dessert? Lavender, I have some of that ice cream you love!”
Lavender beams, forgetting that her hated “cousin” is coming, or my remark about his chosen pastime. “BWACK-CUWWANT ICE CWEAM!” she squeals. She really loves that ice cream. I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t eat too much of it while she’s here.
As Lavender tucks into a bowl of her favourite frozen treat, I start to smile. Despite the fact that James is coming, I feel optimistic. I feel like I made the right choice moving out here.
Later that night, as I hear the bedsprings squeaking loudly in the next room, my sister-in-law moaning louder, and my brother grunting even louder, I feel like I made a mistake moving out here.