therefore he requires substantial evidence that one exists. Luke
does
hope a great deal that his father is not a Chad, and is therefore almost entirely satisfied on this point by the thought that a Chad could never beat him in Scrabble.
CHAPTER SIX
K ati came early to the house today to make sure “everybody has everything they need” for this interview my dad is doing, and to take him to a photo shoot he had to do before the journalist came over. It turned out, though, that Kati was the one who needed things. She needed Mark to shave. She needed the caterer to have provided decaffeinated tea. She needed me to take the blower to the patio furniture again, because they got leafy. I was doing this when she joined me on the patio.
“So you don’t have to talk to the interviewer today,” Kati said, helping me with the cushions. “Or answer any questions. You can just do a walk-through.”
“A walk-through?” I asked.
“You know, just walk through the living room at some point. Wave. Say hello if you feel like it?” Kati smacked pillows.
She was wearing a chain around her neck with a pendantattached. This pendant fell forward when she leaned over the chaise lounge. I imagined grasping the pendant with my teeth and pulling, causing Kati’s clothes to magically fall off, enabling Kati and myself to immediately have sex.
“So … what would I be walking through the living room
for
?” I asked.
“Well, if you get hungry,” Kati said, eyeing the pillows critically. “And you want something from the kitchen: something to eat, a soda, whatever. Just don’t feel like you have to hide in your bedroom. It’d be nice if you came out and said a quick hello.”
“Okay. Sure. No problem. They know about me, right? The interviewer?”
“Oh yes, of course,” Kati said.
I actually got an email from Pearl informing me that my name is now included in Mark Franco’s website biography. It says, “Mark has a son, Luke, from a previous relationship,” but it doesn’t say Sara’s name.
Kati busied herself with more pillows. I put the table back in its spot.
“It’s an important time for your dad,” Kati said. “You know, for him to be able to really take it to the next level.”
Kati’s got really nice hair: blond on top, but darker brown underneath, a “bob,” I think it’s called. I like how smooth it is. She was wearing a shirt that tied around her neck and came lower down in the back. The small white tag with washing instructions was peeping out of this. Considering the geometry of the blouse, I would say that Kati was definitely not wearing a bra.
I knew Kati wanted something from me, something to do with Mark, and that it was now my job to glean what this was, exactly. I waited for instructions.
“We’ve got to keep building up the heat,” Kati said. “He’s got to really get in the game now.”
I wasn’t sure how providing immaculate patio cushions or faking a sudden need for a soda in order to wave hello to an interviewersipping decaffeinated tea would help my dad build up heat or get in the game, but I said, “Okay.” Then I thought that maybe by saying that I should feel free to “walk through” my dad’s interview, Kati was really trying to tell me that everyone would prefer that I didn’t. That maybe it wasn’t very convenient to have a teenage son about when you want everyone to think you are a dark and dangerous guy that all the women desire, like James, the character Mark plays on
The Last
.
I wondered if I should tell Kati about her tag or just casually reach around and tuck it in myself.
“Your dad seems much more relaxed since you’ve been here,” Kati said. “He’s kind of an introverted guy, normally.”
I haven’t noticed that my dad is all that introverted, but I just nodded because Kati seemed to be on the verge of coming to whatever point she needed to make and I didn’t want to interrupt her.
“Anyway,” Kati concluded, “I think, we think, that it’s
does
hope a great deal that his father is not a Chad, and is therefore almost entirely satisfied on this point by the thought that a Chad could never beat him in Scrabble.
CHAPTER SIX
K ati came early to the house today to make sure “everybody has everything they need” for this interview my dad is doing, and to take him to a photo shoot he had to do before the journalist came over. It turned out, though, that Kati was the one who needed things. She needed Mark to shave. She needed the caterer to have provided decaffeinated tea. She needed me to take the blower to the patio furniture again, because they got leafy. I was doing this when she joined me on the patio.
“So you don’t have to talk to the interviewer today,” Kati said, helping me with the cushions. “Or answer any questions. You can just do a walk-through.”
“A walk-through?” I asked.
“You know, just walk through the living room at some point. Wave. Say hello if you feel like it?” Kati smacked pillows.
She was wearing a chain around her neck with a pendantattached. This pendant fell forward when she leaned over the chaise lounge. I imagined grasping the pendant with my teeth and pulling, causing Kati’s clothes to magically fall off, enabling Kati and myself to immediately have sex.
“So … what would I be walking through the living room
for
?” I asked.
“Well, if you get hungry,” Kati said, eyeing the pillows critically. “And you want something from the kitchen: something to eat, a soda, whatever. Just don’t feel like you have to hide in your bedroom. It’d be nice if you came out and said a quick hello.”
“Okay. Sure. No problem. They know about me, right? The interviewer?”
“Oh yes, of course,” Kati said.
I actually got an email from Pearl informing me that my name is now included in Mark Franco’s website biography. It says, “Mark has a son, Luke, from a previous relationship,” but it doesn’t say Sara’s name.
Kati busied herself with more pillows. I put the table back in its spot.
“It’s an important time for your dad,” Kati said. “You know, for him to be able to really take it to the next level.”
Kati’s got really nice hair: blond on top, but darker brown underneath, a “bob,” I think it’s called. I like how smooth it is. She was wearing a shirt that tied around her neck and came lower down in the back. The small white tag with washing instructions was peeping out of this. Considering the geometry of the blouse, I would say that Kati was definitely not wearing a bra.
I knew Kati wanted something from me, something to do with Mark, and that it was now my job to glean what this was, exactly. I waited for instructions.
“We’ve got to keep building up the heat,” Kati said. “He’s got to really get in the game now.”
I wasn’t sure how providing immaculate patio cushions or faking a sudden need for a soda in order to wave hello to an interviewersipping decaffeinated tea would help my dad build up heat or get in the game, but I said, “Okay.” Then I thought that maybe by saying that I should feel free to “walk through” my dad’s interview, Kati was really trying to tell me that everyone would prefer that I didn’t. That maybe it wasn’t very convenient to have a teenage son about when you want everyone to think you are a dark and dangerous guy that all the women desire, like James, the character Mark plays on
The Last
.
I wondered if I should tell Kati about her tag or just casually reach around and tuck it in myself.
“Your dad seems much more relaxed since you’ve been here,” Kati said. “He’s kind of an introverted guy, normally.”
I haven’t noticed that my dad is all that introverted, but I just nodded because Kati seemed to be on the verge of coming to whatever point she needed to make and I didn’t want to interrupt her.
“Anyway,” Kati concluded, “I think, we think, that it’s
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