out on a mission to find her, and having failed up to that point, he was feeling close to insane. Failure was not something Zack James was at all used to.
“You’re full of shit and you know it! Wret and John? Zack, you’re the ultimate pimp of the entire fucking universe! And you know Vallarta like the back of your hand. Plus, you know me better than I know myself. You fucking raised me, dude! So don’t tell me anyone else but you can plan this thing!”
He sighed into the phone. “I’ll fucking do it. Yes, I’ll plan your bachelor party, damn it. But I’ll expect Wret and John to handle the logistics the night of!”
“Yes, absolutely. Definitely! You’re the best, Zack. Seriously! And with your pull, I bet you can get some supermodels or even a celebrity or two!” Darren said, sounding like an excited puppy before his food bowl got set down.
“Don’t push it, Darren James!” Zack said like a father, one who’d just been designated to get his surrogate son sloshed off his ass then spanked and molested by strippers before his wedding day arrived.
“Look, brother, you know you can just snap your fingers and get centerfolds from Norway and a flippin’ princess from Spain if you wanted to!”
“Whoa there, you pushy little shit!” Zack warned. “Yes, you are getting married, the whole man and wife thing, but you’re still my kid brother, the one I beat on as a child.” He laughed into the phone. “Listen, it’ll be a great time, trust me. But you’ll be so knocked-off - your-ass drunk you won’t know your own name, my name, the strippers’ names…or where the hell they come from!”
Zack could hardly think of putting his attention to a bachelor party in his state, let alone going all-out —making calls, trading favors, or string-pulling with his high-end connections. And, goddamn it , his little brother had always thought things came so easy to him. ‘With a snap of his fingers!’ Zack’s ass, it was that easy. In general, Darren had been too young to know how hard Zack had worked for everything. In fact, Zack made sure Darren had no clue. Protecting Darren had become his top priority since their father left—Darren had just turned eight and Zack had a year to go before he could even vote! And their mother? She’d slipped into an indefinite depression.
No, nothing was ever as easy as it seemed.
“I know, Zack. It’ll be all-good . That’s why I asked you. I think I’m just…you know…”
“What, you nervous?”
“Yeah, dude! But not, like, about Amy. I mean, I know with her—she is my… one. It’s more like…I won’t let us be like Mom and Dad. This will be it, so, well, I want it to be perfect. Shit, I sound like a fucking bride, don’t I?”
“Yeah, man”—Zack snickered then cleared his throat—“and you’re fine. Big man’s makin’ the big move. It’s natural…and all good.”
Darren kept silent for a beat then snorted. “It is good, right? Really good…. Hey, you know something?”
“What’s that?”
“When Dad left Mom and us for Sabrina, I remember thinking marriage must be like…like the circus. You know, they go all-out with the big top, the animals, the trapeze setup and all, but then it just picks up and leaves…onto another fucking town. Like, ‘Okay, Dad’s going to live in France now with his new family,’ while we were just the town he’d left behind…you know what I mean?”
Zack hated talking about their father, especially with Darren. He never wanted Darren affected by the bullshit that came with Bennet James. But he definitely understood Darren and his metaphor completely. And it was right-on , too, except that a circus leaves a dustbowl of a parking lot in its wake, while Bennet James had actually left his sons with a get-out - guilt-free card—a tremendous, multimillion dollar trust fund. Oh, and a note–– Sorry, sons…Be good boys, be good men … etc .
Then the “ring master” of the allegorical circus bailed. Not
“You’re full of shit and you know it! Wret and John? Zack, you’re the ultimate pimp of the entire fucking universe! And you know Vallarta like the back of your hand. Plus, you know me better than I know myself. You fucking raised me, dude! So don’t tell me anyone else but you can plan this thing!”
He sighed into the phone. “I’ll fucking do it. Yes, I’ll plan your bachelor party, damn it. But I’ll expect Wret and John to handle the logistics the night of!”
“Yes, absolutely. Definitely! You’re the best, Zack. Seriously! And with your pull, I bet you can get some supermodels or even a celebrity or two!” Darren said, sounding like an excited puppy before his food bowl got set down.
“Don’t push it, Darren James!” Zack said like a father, one who’d just been designated to get his surrogate son sloshed off his ass then spanked and molested by strippers before his wedding day arrived.
“Look, brother, you know you can just snap your fingers and get centerfolds from Norway and a flippin’ princess from Spain if you wanted to!”
“Whoa there, you pushy little shit!” Zack warned. “Yes, you are getting married, the whole man and wife thing, but you’re still my kid brother, the one I beat on as a child.” He laughed into the phone. “Listen, it’ll be a great time, trust me. But you’ll be so knocked-off - your-ass drunk you won’t know your own name, my name, the strippers’ names…or where the hell they come from!”
Zack could hardly think of putting his attention to a bachelor party in his state, let alone going all-out —making calls, trading favors, or string-pulling with his high-end connections. And, goddamn it , his little brother had always thought things came so easy to him. ‘With a snap of his fingers!’ Zack’s ass, it was that easy. In general, Darren had been too young to know how hard Zack had worked for everything. In fact, Zack made sure Darren had no clue. Protecting Darren had become his top priority since their father left—Darren had just turned eight and Zack had a year to go before he could even vote! And their mother? She’d slipped into an indefinite depression.
No, nothing was ever as easy as it seemed.
“I know, Zack. It’ll be all-good . That’s why I asked you. I think I’m just…you know…”
“What, you nervous?”
“Yeah, dude! But not, like, about Amy. I mean, I know with her—she is my… one. It’s more like…I won’t let us be like Mom and Dad. This will be it, so, well, I want it to be perfect. Shit, I sound like a fucking bride, don’t I?”
“Yeah, man”—Zack snickered then cleared his throat—“and you’re fine. Big man’s makin’ the big move. It’s natural…and all good.”
Darren kept silent for a beat then snorted. “It is good, right? Really good…. Hey, you know something?”
“What’s that?”
“When Dad left Mom and us for Sabrina, I remember thinking marriage must be like…like the circus. You know, they go all-out with the big top, the animals, the trapeze setup and all, but then it just picks up and leaves…onto another fucking town. Like, ‘Okay, Dad’s going to live in France now with his new family,’ while we were just the town he’d left behind…you know what I mean?”
Zack hated talking about their father, especially with Darren. He never wanted Darren affected by the bullshit that came with Bennet James. But he definitely understood Darren and his metaphor completely. And it was right-on , too, except that a circus leaves a dustbowl of a parking lot in its wake, while Bennet James had actually left his sons with a get-out - guilt-free card—a tremendous, multimillion dollar trust fund. Oh, and a note–– Sorry, sons…Be good boys, be good men … etc .
Then the “ring master” of the allegorical circus bailed. Not
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