Page 19 of Jacob Michaels is Not Crazy

Other than the living room, the house was dark when I parked outside of Oma’s house that night. Lucas and I had had sex in so many ways so many times I couldn’t even remember how many times that was. My head was swimming with the thoughts still swirling through my brain, and the smells and tastes still clouding my limbic system. The smile on my face was genuine and not a single bit innocent as I got out of the car. Locking the car with my key fob, I climbed the stairs to the front porch and unlocked the front door, letting myself inside as quietly as possible. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet, and Oma had the living room lights on, so it was unlikely that she was in bed. However, I didn’t want a fight to start first thing. I was too happy, too satisfied, to want to bring my mood down before bed.

“And just where the hell have you been?” Oma was waggling her head at me from the easy chair in the living room as soon as the door was shut.

I sighed to myself and flipped the lock.

“I’ve texted you fifty times today if it was a million.” She seethed but didn’t rise to her feet.

The T.V. was on but was muted and it cast an eerie blue tint through the room and on her face.

“At Lucas’ fucking again.” I shrugged.

Oma frowned at me.

“Shocker.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Surprising, maybe. Not shocking.”

I held my hands out in a “there ya’ have it” type of way.

“You two playin’ house now, are ya’?”

“Playing something.” I shrugged.

“Mm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean nothing you little shit.” She waggled her head. “Just a response so you knew I heard ya’.”

“Charming.”

“Oh, fuck you, Mister High-and-Mighty.”

“Goodnight, Oma.” I turned toward the stairs.

“Get back in here right now, you little asshole.” She boomed.

That voice was the “Oma voice” from my childhood. I knew better than to ignore it. Not out of fear, but out of respect. It was Oma’s way of letting me know that the conversation wasn’t over. That she was my elder. That she, whether I liked it or not, was my grandmother, I was in her home, and I had to give her respect. I walked back into the living room and stood before her, arms crossing over my chest.

“Now, you look here.” She looked up me, trying to be angry, but her expression was too soft. “I don’t care that you and Lucas are seeing each other—”

“How kind.”

“—but, ya’ little asshole, you could at least return a text so I know you’re not lying in a goddamn ditch somewhere.”

“Or eaten by a wolf on the way home to grandma’s house?” I waggled my head this time.

“Or that.” She snapped.

“Got it,” I said evenly. “I apologize. I will text you next time.”

“Good.”

We stared at each other as the T.V. cast its blue haze around the room, casting eerie, late-night shadows even with the lamps on.

“You wanna watch some T.V. with me?”

“What are you watching?”