do," he grumbled.
"What's a big sister for?" she returned, undeterred in her mission. "And consider, if you don't marry until you're fifty, you'll have one foot in the grave when your kids graduate high school."
"A charming image," he drawled.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah." This wasn't a new conversation. Libby had been talking up marriage ever since she'd married Rick ten years ago. Apparently, wedded bliss actually did exist in Sheboygan, Wisconsin.
"You can introduce me to the comic book woman in two weeks," his sister said, with altogether too much cheer. "We're coming to shop at Mall of America. And see the Ikea store and Camp Snoopy."
"Two weeks?"
"Don't sound so alarmed. I'll bring my own sheets, and the kids love your pool."
"I have sheets, okay? I just meant—it's a surprise. You usually plan months in advance."
"I'm dying to see the Ikea store. There's one in Chicago, but then you're not there. This way we can see you and the store at the same time."
"Sounds great." He sort of meant it. He liked his sister and Rick and the kids. But he was having trouble dealing with the insistent images of Stella Scott looping through his brain at the same time his sister was talking about Ikea and getting married, not to mention his libido was doing its damndest to block out everything but his insatiable craving for what he couldn't or shouldn't have.
"A little more enthusiasm if you please."
"Sorry. There was something scrolling on TV." Lie. "I'd love to see you all again. I'll get some kid food in the house. Or are you still on the no-sugar regimen?"
"I wish. That lasted about two days. The whining got so loud I had to give in."
"Good, 'cuz Count Chocula builds strong bodies and minds."
"
Plueese
. Although a man who makes a living designing video games can't be expected to act like an adult."
"What can I say? The bar's way the hell too high."
She laughed. "Okay, okay, consider my lecture over. We'll see you in two weeks."
----
ELEVEN
THE STORE CLOSED EARLY ON SUNDAY. IT WAS her nod to the day of rest. Not that a handful of kids didn't always whine and moan when she rousted them out a half hour after closing time. But hey, the doors would open at nine tomorrow morning, and they could hang out here again.
She had a bunch of regulars who had more time than any kid from a normal family should. Many of them preferred her store to home. With some, it was a refuge; for others, it was just a quiet place in a noisy world. Several of them were serious about writing their own comic book; a couple kids were journaling. She had a real cross-section of teenage humanity and angst at the Hot Spot comic book store.
At times she thought she would have been better off with a degree in psychology than math. Like when Ryan Kath had threatened to kill Richie Mosbak if he didn't let him buy the last copy of
Wolverine
. Tragedy had been averted when Stella had given up her personal copy. But she'd had a little talk with Ryan after that—you know the one about anger management and no knives in her store. It turned out that Ryan had a couple hundred issues going on at home, starting with his mom's new boyfriend moving in with his three kids.
Ryan had come around and turned out to be one of her best student tutors; he was some kind of math whiz or idiot savant. She wasn't sure which, but he could do algebra formulas in his head, knew every batting average of every baseball player since dirt, and had all his comics arranged in a numerical sequence based on three squared.
So he couldn't always deal with his mom's boyfriends. Who the hell could? They came and went through a revolving door. And much as Stella liked Josie Kath for her ready smile and unending optimism, Ryan did not have a Rock of Gibraltar mother going for him.
She understood. Much as she loved her mother, she'd been raised by an unconventional woman who made garden ornaments, had tried every diet known to man, and had thrown herself body and soul into
"What's a big sister for?" she returned, undeterred in her mission. "And consider, if you don't marry until you're fifty, you'll have one foot in the grave when your kids graduate high school."
"A charming image," he drawled.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah." This wasn't a new conversation. Libby had been talking up marriage ever since she'd married Rick ten years ago. Apparently, wedded bliss actually did exist in Sheboygan, Wisconsin.
"You can introduce me to the comic book woman in two weeks," his sister said, with altogether too much cheer. "We're coming to shop at Mall of America. And see the Ikea store and Camp Snoopy."
"Two weeks?"
"Don't sound so alarmed. I'll bring my own sheets, and the kids love your pool."
"I have sheets, okay? I just meant—it's a surprise. You usually plan months in advance."
"I'm dying to see the Ikea store. There's one in Chicago, but then you're not there. This way we can see you and the store at the same time."
"Sounds great." He sort of meant it. He liked his sister and Rick and the kids. But he was having trouble dealing with the insistent images of Stella Scott looping through his brain at the same time his sister was talking about Ikea and getting married, not to mention his libido was doing its damndest to block out everything but his insatiable craving for what he couldn't or shouldn't have.
"A little more enthusiasm if you please."
"Sorry. There was something scrolling on TV." Lie. "I'd love to see you all again. I'll get some kid food in the house. Or are you still on the no-sugar regimen?"
"I wish. That lasted about two days. The whining got so loud I had to give in."
"Good, 'cuz Count Chocula builds strong bodies and minds."
"
Plueese
. Although a man who makes a living designing video games can't be expected to act like an adult."
"What can I say? The bar's way the hell too high."
She laughed. "Okay, okay, consider my lecture over. We'll see you in two weeks."
----
ELEVEN
THE STORE CLOSED EARLY ON SUNDAY. IT WAS her nod to the day of rest. Not that a handful of kids didn't always whine and moan when she rousted them out a half hour after closing time. But hey, the doors would open at nine tomorrow morning, and they could hang out here again.
She had a bunch of regulars who had more time than any kid from a normal family should. Many of them preferred her store to home. With some, it was a refuge; for others, it was just a quiet place in a noisy world. Several of them were serious about writing their own comic book; a couple kids were journaling. She had a real cross-section of teenage humanity and angst at the Hot Spot comic book store.
At times she thought she would have been better off with a degree in psychology than math. Like when Ryan Kath had threatened to kill Richie Mosbak if he didn't let him buy the last copy of
Wolverine
. Tragedy had been averted when Stella had given up her personal copy. But she'd had a little talk with Ryan after that—you know the one about anger management and no knives in her store. It turned out that Ryan had a couple hundred issues going on at home, starting with his mom's new boyfriend moving in with his three kids.
Ryan had come around and turned out to be one of her best student tutors; he was some kind of math whiz or idiot savant. She wasn't sure which, but he could do algebra formulas in his head, knew every batting average of every baseball player since dirt, and had all his comics arranged in a numerical sequence based on three squared.
So he couldn't always deal with his mom's boyfriends. Who the hell could? They came and went through a revolving door. And much as Stella liked Josie Kath for her ready smile and unending optimism, Ryan did not have a Rock of Gibraltar mother going for him.
She understood. Much as she loved her mother, she'd been raised by an unconventional woman who made garden ornaments, had tried every diet known to man, and had thrown herself body and soul into
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