settled his body’s normal blood alcohol level.
It was the same dance each month.
Victoria did the books, handed over the P & L, and Larry and Roger got into a scorching argument. Only first, they both railed at her. They never seemed to grasp the meaning of the phrase, ‘don’t kill the messenger’.
It was funny how alcohol seemed to allow someone to deceive themselves in such a way that their version of reality trumped everyone else's.
“That’s it. The numbers are the numbers.”
And the numbers don’t lie, unlike some other people around here.
“Where’s Roger? That son-of-a-bitch better get in here and see this. We can’t keep going like this. He’s skimming, right? You’re hiding it from me aren’t you?”
Victoria felt the undeserved guilt rise up.
Why did she still feel the thump of shame whenever Larry scolded her? She wasn’t a child. The bizarre relationship that evolved over time between the two men still astonished her.
How could such a sweet, kind soul as her mother love both of them? Sure, it was a long time ago, and the years stomped all over both the men emotionally, intellectually and physically. Victoria felt incredulous imagining how her mom could have been attracted to either of them.
Deep down, though, she knew. Cameron was a younger version of his father, his magnetism far beyond the explanations of this world. Victoria watched from a front row seat from the time she could remember — girls — and later women — stuttered and swooned near Cameron before he ever grew a hair on his chin.
His arrogance and indifference only seemed to fuel their pathetic need for his attention.
If Larry possessed even a fraction of Cameron’s magical pull, there was a part of Victoria that understood her mother tearing apart her marriage and succumbing to that force of nature.
The most bizarre part of the story is how the two men had managed to stay business partners. Sure, fighting was their life, the family came a distant second, well, more like third or fourth after booze and betting.
Still, your business partner beds your wife, she divorces you and marries him? Maybe if Victoria was given the chance, she could have asked her mother what really happened. Gotten to know her on a level that would answer some of the questions about how and why.
All the while, three kids were watching and spinning in circles between the two camps. Finally, when the dust settled, Victoria found herself family to the two young brothers of her father’s business partner.
One of whom already displayed an almost psychotic need to hover over her. To ensure her safety like someone cast a dark spell upon her that at any moment would have the damn boogie man jumping out and slicing her from ear to ear.
It did nothing to quell his thirst when they shared a hallway (less every other Wednesday evening and weekend). It never mattered much, they all ended up at the gym working almost every spare moment, regardless.
While other kids were out learning to ride bikes and built forts, the three of them were mopping floors, folding towels and learning words that sent them to the principle’s office more than once.
“What?” A loud voice smacked her back into the moment.
“You better not be working behind my back. You and your father, he’s taking from the till, I know it.”
“He’s not. You’re both losing money every month on bad bets. You haven’t brought in a new fighter in months. You need the training dollars, and you aren’t getting them. You need a winner. 10% of nothing is nothing. You can’t survive on monthly dues alone. Bring in a new trainer, or a new fighter, someone with a name, you need to breathe some life back into this place. Don’t you think I see who comes around here, sneaking in the back door while you two scurry around like rats? Stop betting, you’re going to lose this place.”
What she didn’t know, what both men barely acknowledged even themselves, was that they were not far from
It was the same dance each month.
Victoria did the books, handed over the P & L, and Larry and Roger got into a scorching argument. Only first, they both railed at her. They never seemed to grasp the meaning of the phrase, ‘don’t kill the messenger’.
It was funny how alcohol seemed to allow someone to deceive themselves in such a way that their version of reality trumped everyone else's.
“That’s it. The numbers are the numbers.”
And the numbers don’t lie, unlike some other people around here.
“Where’s Roger? That son-of-a-bitch better get in here and see this. We can’t keep going like this. He’s skimming, right? You’re hiding it from me aren’t you?”
Victoria felt the undeserved guilt rise up.
Why did she still feel the thump of shame whenever Larry scolded her? She wasn’t a child. The bizarre relationship that evolved over time between the two men still astonished her.
How could such a sweet, kind soul as her mother love both of them? Sure, it was a long time ago, and the years stomped all over both the men emotionally, intellectually and physically. Victoria felt incredulous imagining how her mom could have been attracted to either of them.
Deep down, though, she knew. Cameron was a younger version of his father, his magnetism far beyond the explanations of this world. Victoria watched from a front row seat from the time she could remember — girls — and later women — stuttered and swooned near Cameron before he ever grew a hair on his chin.
His arrogance and indifference only seemed to fuel their pathetic need for his attention.
If Larry possessed even a fraction of Cameron’s magical pull, there was a part of Victoria that understood her mother tearing apart her marriage and succumbing to that force of nature.
The most bizarre part of the story is how the two men had managed to stay business partners. Sure, fighting was their life, the family came a distant second, well, more like third or fourth after booze and betting.
Still, your business partner beds your wife, she divorces you and marries him? Maybe if Victoria was given the chance, she could have asked her mother what really happened. Gotten to know her on a level that would answer some of the questions about how and why.
All the while, three kids were watching and spinning in circles between the two camps. Finally, when the dust settled, Victoria found herself family to the two young brothers of her father’s business partner.
One of whom already displayed an almost psychotic need to hover over her. To ensure her safety like someone cast a dark spell upon her that at any moment would have the damn boogie man jumping out and slicing her from ear to ear.
It did nothing to quell his thirst when they shared a hallway (less every other Wednesday evening and weekend). It never mattered much, they all ended up at the gym working almost every spare moment, regardless.
While other kids were out learning to ride bikes and built forts, the three of them were mopping floors, folding towels and learning words that sent them to the principle’s office more than once.
“What?” A loud voice smacked her back into the moment.
“You better not be working behind my back. You and your father, he’s taking from the till, I know it.”
“He’s not. You’re both losing money every month on bad bets. You haven’t brought in a new fighter in months. You need the training dollars, and you aren’t getting them. You need a winner. 10% of nothing is nothing. You can’t survive on monthly dues alone. Bring in a new trainer, or a new fighter, someone with a name, you need to breathe some life back into this place. Don’t you think I see who comes around here, sneaking in the back door while you two scurry around like rats? Stop betting, you’re going to lose this place.”
What she didn’t know, what both men barely acknowledged even themselves, was that they were not far from
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