Page 14 of Wire
Beretta_Penn: Yeah, yeah. Chat later x.
I flip my laptop closed, toss it beside me and lay back with my eyes closed. An image of Retta flits through my mind. Well, a faceless woman shaped image. What would it be like to hear a real laugh when I offer shitty advice? What would it be like for her to roll her eyes at me when I make a computing pun? Maybe it’s time me and Retta met up for real.
Remy
I’m sitting in my car outside of a cute little cabin and I knowthat this has to be Chewy’s house. I mean, I know it is anyway; I followed the very precise instructions she gave me. But even if she didn’t, I would know that the Marvel themed garden gnomes belonged to her. Although I’m not sure if she or her brothers arranged them into rude poses.
Blowing out a breath, I look down at what I class as my pajamas. I had a slight freak out when Chewy said it was a pajama party, because I usually just sleep in an oversized tee that belonged to my dad, and a pair of soft shorts, but Mags assured me it’d be fine. Well, actually, he didn’t, but he didn’t say that this was awful either, so I’m going with it. I grab my snacks - Cheetos, Milk Duds and a tub of cookies and cream ice cream that’s left condensation all over my seat - and juggle that all while getting out of my car, kicking the door closed with my foot, and then carrying it up to her front door.
Before I can get the tub of ice cream securely in my armpit, the yellow door flies open and Chewy stands there in a Loki onesie.
“Hello! This is my house. You can come in. I have Girls’ Night stuff planned.” She spins and her curls fly around, almost hitting me in the face. I follow her and then almost crash into her when she spins to face me abruptly. She puts her hands on my biceps to steady me before pulling her hands back as if she’s been burned.
“Whoops, soz. Bring your snacks. You can put them on the coffee table with the rest of the heart attack inducing food that we shall feast on.”
She moves to the side and I see her house is fully open plan. From where I’m standing, I can see the kitchen to my left and the living area to my right. It’s definitely Chewy’s house. Bright colors and Marvel themed bits and pieces are everywhere. Is that a Marvel dinner set? There are an abundance of cushions andthrow blankets, and a huge fish tank takes up one entire wall of the living room.
“It’s a lot, huh?” I spin to see Ana thankfully wearing similar clothing to me - sweats and a shirt that looks like it belongs to some New Zealand sports team; sitting in the comfiest looking armchair I’ve ever seen in my life. Poofy, soft and cream colored with a furry throw.
“Oh, um, hi Ana!” I can feel my cheeks heating. It was only a few days ago that she pulled me from her tent when she thought I was an intruder.
“Remy, look, I am so, so sorry about pulling your hair. I still feel incredibly shitty about that. Can we please start again?” The look on Ana’s face is so hopeful, there’s nothing I can do but smile and nod.
“I’d like that. I’d also like to be less embarrassed every time I see you.”
Ana throws her head back and laughs before raising her hand. “Dude, same!”
We smile at each other for a moment before Chewy reminds me I’m still standing with an armful of snacks. I can feel my cheeks heating again, but I tell myself that these women aren’t judging me. I settle on the couch next to Chewy and unsuccessfully hold in my groan when I sink into the plush fabric.
“I know, right!? It’s like sitting on top of a pile of babies or something. It’s so soft! I almost orgasmed when I sat down.” Ana pops the cork on the bottle of bubbles, holds up a glass and tips it in my direction with her brows raised. I don’t normally drink, but I also don’t normally attend girls’ nights either, so what the heck! I nod and thank her when she hands me my glass, taking a little sip and letting the bubbles fizz in my mouth and tickle the inside of my nose. I take another dainty sip and then try not to spit it out when I see Chewy throw it back in one go.
“Yeah, that hits the spot.”
Me and Ana share a look and try not to smile too wide. I turn back to Chewy and take in what she’s wearing.
“Do your pajamas have feet attached?” I stare down at where her feet should be and they are most definitely covered.
“Yup. Rhodie bought these from the big kids’ section because he was sick of me putting my cold feet in his lap when we’re relaxing on the couch. He has Thor ones without feet attached. And we only wear them when we watch TV in case my brothers or Pops visit. We usually sleep naked because we go to sleep after we fuck.” Chewy states proudly.
I’m not sure what to say, so I look at Ana, whose eyebrows are currently making out with her hairline. And then she snorts and bursts into giggles.
“Um, well, they’re um, they’re nice TV watching pajamas.” I say, just because, well, someone had to say something.
“No. Nope, you’re not doing that. You, my dear Remy, are going to loosen up. No quiet timid Remy here. You want to laugh at Dayz being so fucking short she can fit kids’ pajamas, or the ridiculousness of Rhodie dressed in Thor PJ’s to please her, you laugh. It’s hilarious.” Ana says, before giggling again.
Chewy blows out a breath. “She’s right. It is actually hilarious. Here, I’ll show you,”
She taps a few things on her phone screen and then the huge TV on her wall that was disguised as a Van Gogh painting comes to life. Suddenly, Van Gogh is replaced by a picture of Rodie in the smallest Thor onesie I have ever seen.
The bottom part comes halfway up his legs, showing enough calf to make an Amish woman blush. The zip doesn’t go all the way up due to how wide he is, a large expanse of tattooed chest on display. The tightness of the zip being done up halfway makes his pecs look like they’re in a push-up bra. The most horrific part, however, would be the way the center seam has liftedand separated his franks and beans, creating the most obscene moose knuckle known to man.
There are so many reactions to what I’m seeing that I can’t settle on one. Neither can Ana, who is staring open-mouthed. She swallows, then opens and closes her mouth a few times.
“What in the fuck am I seeing?! Why the fuck is Shit Stain dressed like a fucking steroid-taking Peter Pan reject?”
A scream erupts out of me and before I know it, I’m across the room on Ana’s lap, heart beating out of my chest. Ana is also screaming blue murder at the elderly gentleman that is standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. Chino’s pulled a little too high, polo shirt and comfy looking walking shoes. His white hair is slicked back, and he has to be related to Chewy because he looks a lot like her brothers, just old.
“Shit, sorry girls. The door was open. I wanted to make sure you were all safe.” His gaze swings to mine and he steps forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Dayz’s grandpa. Everyone calls me Pops.”