“Being a father is the single greatest feeling on Earth.–Ryan Reynolds
Not including those wonderful years I spent without a child, of course.”
Del Sol Valley Cameron Mansion Home to Blaine, Scarlett, almost 18-year-old twins Fallon & Blythe, 16 year-old Gavin and family dog "George"
Blaine’s voice echoed through the hallway of the Cameron Mansion lobby.
“Come on in kid, I’ll grab Gavin. Hang a sec.”
“Sir – no. I am not here for Gav. I am here to pick up Blythe.”
“Blythe, your daughter. Blythe.”
“I know my daughter’s name. All my daughters’ names, in fact. What do YOU want with her?”
“I am picking her up, obviously.”
“Not obviously! You roll up here all cocky, dressed for success if that means you were here to fix the plumbing. So lesson one: have some respect. Lesson two: dress the part.”
“Why? I am not asking you out and Blythe likes the way I look.”
“Listen, boyband, in that case I got somethin’ for ya to peruse. Come over yonder, and read this to me, nice and loud.”
He dragged the young man to the old ‘Rules for Dating My Daughter” sign.
“Seriously now?” the young man looked at the sign, then at Blaine as if he had lost his mind.
“This – THIS – is not my joking face.” Blaine reaffirmed his request by pointing at his face in an exaggerated manner.
“I am not dating your daughter. At least not yet. We’re just hanging out to see if we’re a match. So, chill.”
“Chill? Don’t YOU wet rag tell me to chill!”
“You look like you should, so you don’t have a heart attack, Boomer.”
Before Blaine could respond, Blythe came down the stairs.
“Oh – you are here! Aaaand you have met my dad … and his ridiculous sign. Oh yay. Joy to the world. Someone needs to burn that thing!” the last part was said with intentional lack of enthusiasm.
“You’ll think ‘something’s burning’. Dafuq is this here supposed to become when it’s done? And what the hell are you wearing again!?” Blaine pointed back and forth between Blythe and the young man.
“Ahem – dad, I am weeks away from my 18th birthday. This is a dress and that is a guy picking me up for a date. Big deal.” Blythe shrugged unimpressed.
“Ha, I knew it, it IS a date. This wet noodle here tried to tell me it wasn’t. Anyway, how old is this kid? 12? Is babyface here old enough to drive? Are you even shaving yet, son, or didcha just cut some pubes off and glue them to your mug to impress me with your ‘I-can-almost-see-it-without-a-magnifying-glass’-shadow?!”
“You are making zero sense, my man. First you try to make me read that BS joke sign on your wall, now we’re too young …” the young man said unimpressed, which rubbed Blaine very wrong.
“Listen you …!” Blaine started, but couldn’t finish as Maeve walked into the hallway.
“Oh, how nice. A young man calling on Fallon …” she chirped, smiling her ‘hit-the-brakes-right-now-son-or-I-will-hit-them-for-you’ smile at Blaine.
“Except I am Blythe …” her granddaughter corrected with an eyeroll.
“That’s what I said. Where are you kids going?”
“Ah … the dark movie theater. Got it. I remember those days well. Well, have fun and don’t do anything we … ahem …” Maeve gave Blaine a certain type of look, before she continued, “… I mean, anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that’s doesn’t leave much to the imagination then.” smiling overly sweetly at Maeve, making Blaine sweat slightly.
Not them, not this, not again!
“Hm, strange, I don’t remember me ever nailing innocent young men in other people’s tents at Everett Heights and hotel rooms, conceiving against all logic, which only started a conveyor belt type of conception frenzy. And that was only the tip of a gigantic iceberg to follow, including breaking a big promise.” Maeve smiled back sweetly during their verbal sparring match, while Scarlett was visibly biting back a harsh comeback.
“Hey Bly, who are these people?” wondered the young man quietly to Blythe.
“Oh, sorry. My grandma and my mom. And obviously dad, who is off his meds. And this handsome little guy here is George.” Blythe picked up the family dog.
“I heard that! And my daughter’s name is BlyTHE, not Bly, you fool!” Blaine ranted.
“WHOA! That’s your mom! Holy shit, she’s hot! Did she have you when she was like 10?!” the young man exclaimed with an open-mouth stare at Scarlett, completely ignoring Blaine, rising higher on his shitlist yet.
“Hey, watch it you overgrown vibrator – and hands off ANYONE in this room, especially my WIFE. And the dog! Do not even dream of wiping your dirty paws on my George!” Blaine shot eye daggers at the young man.
“Daddy! Just chill! Joey was just paying mom a compliment. You are super-embarrassing! Have some coffee or something!” Blythe shot her own eye daggers back at him, while Scarlett nudged Blaine, who traded glances with her as she shook her head at him, so he relaxed some.
“Grandma, mom, dad – this is Joey McNeil. Joey, some of my crazy family. My advice: ignore them, that’s what I do. So, guys, we are gonna go then. Can I have the keys to grandpa’s …” Blythe was cut off by Maeve.
“Oh no, you may not, but you can drive ANY of your father’s cars, I am sure, seeing how he doesn’t use them anyway, thanks to Scarlett, right Blaine? ” Maeve cut her granddaughter off right away.
With a bewildered facial expression Blaine was gonna argue, but Scarlett was faster.
“Of course, honey, you can have the two-seater Mercedes. And how nice to meet you, Joey. Have fun, you two. Safely, please.” Scarlett’s tone remained sugar-sweet, even though her eye-daggers at her mother-in-law foretold that her jabs didn’t go unnoticed.
“Thanks mom. Bye all!” Blythe grabbed Joey’s arm, then hurried to the door with him, where she grabbed said keys and off they were.
“Last time I invite you for a visit, mom! What the fuzzy fucks you giving my cars away for?! And why did you give them the nice one, Letty?! Let her drive the damn GTI!” Blaine protested.
“Because the two-seater has deep bucket seats and no backseat, Blaine!” Scarlett told him, kissed his cheek and walked off.
“Oh, baby boy. My sweet, innocent rainbow baby, you have SO MUCH left to learn, good thing you live forever to catch up. Think about it.” Maeve kissed his other cheek and walked off too.
Mumbling to himself, he left too, finding his youngest child, 16-year-old Gavin in the living room.
“… don’t get it … why would bucket seats and no backseat be safer than a less fast car?” Blaine still mumbled, on his way to the bar to get himself a much needed drink.
“Duh dad! Obviously bucket seats are designed to keep your ass in the seat, so making-out is uncomfortable and no backseat prevents screwing in the backseat, because – well – there is none. You seen mom anywhere?” Gavin answered Blaine’s rhetorical question.
Blaine’s eyeballs nearly fell out of his skull.
“Wait a sec – so your sister is serious about that … boyband looking kid?”
“You mean Joey? Define serious.”
Blaine tilted his head, grimacing, so Gavin nodded.
“Oh yeah – if that’s what you mean, I am pretty sure she’s already been serious with him before, but you didn’t hear that from me. Just guessing anyway, not like I would be present for that shit. Just sayin’ …”
“Wait a minute! How old is that Joey?! I thought he was YOUR buddy! And what do YOU know about any of that … serious stuff between your sister and her … boyband dude?!”
“Dad – I am 16, not 6! And I grew up in THIS house with YOU as my dad. I dunno how old Joey is, he’s older than me, about the twins’ age, maybe 18, 19 … I met him before but didn’t exactly card him.”
Blaine frowned, turned on his heel and rushed towards the direction his wife had disappeared to
As he was about to enter the kitchen, someone was at the door, so he tore it open to find another young man.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW?!” he blurted at him.
“Yeah, hi. I am Nathan.”
“Happy for you. You are as adorable as your name, kudos to mommy and daddy. Can you be Nathan at someone else’s door now? I am busy.”
“Is Fallon home? I was supposed to pick her up to go ….”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Blaine slammed the door shut in the boy’s face.