The Chauffeur (#51) Michael

The Chauffeur (#51) Michael

By PABLO DIABLO

Copyright 2019

CHAPTER 1

I sat in my chair at the dining room table looking at a face that I had not seen in quite a long time.

Jennifer asked me, “David, what do you want me to do? Should I let him in or have him come back when we don’t have 1000 college kids here for a party?”

“Let him in. But please escort him over to me at this table. I’m not as sober as I would like to be for this meeting,” I tell Jennifer.

“OK, I’ll bring him over to you, but I’m getting Jill and Dakota to come to join you here at the table,” she tells me.

For the first time in a long, long time I have had several drinks and of all the nights for Michael to show up, it had to be this one.

I watched as Jennifer went over and asked him to come inside the Chateau. Before they went more than a step inside, Jennifer said something to Amy which caused Amy to go looking for someone.

Jennifer took Michael by the hand and pulled him through the large number of co-eds to get him to the dining room table where I was sitting. When she got him there, she pointed at a chair for him to join me at the table. He sat without saying anything.

As I sat there with Michael, neither one of us said anything. Quite frankly, I didn’t really know what to say to him since it had been such a long time.

Finally, I commented, “Well, you certainly picked an interesting night to show up. Are you hungry because we have lots of food,” I tell my son.

He just smiles and says, “Yeah, sure. I’ll have some food. What’s on the menu, college females?” I just stare at him. At this point, I have had enough alcohol that I’m not going to be insulted in my own home.

“No smart-ass, we have BBQ ribs, Cole slaw, potato salad, macaroni salad, and beans. If you would like a beer or soda, we have that as well,” I poke back.

“Well, ribs sound good. Will someone bring it to me, or do I have to go hunt it down?” he says very sarcastically.

I summon Jennifer over to me and ask her to fix a plate of food for Michael. She bounces into the kitchen and puts several ribs on a plate with a scoop of potato salad and a big spoon of beans. She also grabbed a Bud Light and a Coke for him to choose from. She carefully carried it over to him and set it down in front of him.

Michael handed the Coke back to her. He used his forearm to open the Bud Light, something that I taught him a few years back.

“So, Dad, who are all these people?”

“Some are friends, some are friends of friends, and most I have no idea who they are they just came for the free food, free booze, and a party,” I tell him.

Michael leans in and takes a bite of one of the ribs that Jennifer put on his plate. Just as he was swallowing his first bite, Jill and Dakota came to the table and sat on my left. They took the two seats where Jill usually sits. However, since Michael was sitting where Dakota usually sat, she chose to sit next to Jill.

“Dad, who are these two? A couple of your whores?” he says as he takes another bite of ribs.

His words really angered me. I was not going to be talked to like that in my own home.

“I’ll only ask you once to not talk like that in my home to me or my family,” I say to him. I’m now really pissed off. Here he hasn’t had time to see me or talk to me in quite a long time, but now he comes into my home and acts as if he can just do or say whatever he wants.

“Your family? I’m your family. Mom is your family,” he says in an angry tone.

“No, you’re completely wrong Michael. You are my family, but your Mother chose to divorce me, yet she didn’t mind living off the child support that I paid her or the alimony. The private school that you went to. The nice house you lived in. The new car I bought for you that your Mother drove around. I’m not sure you want to go down that road of her bullshit, at least not in my house,” I said to him.

“Yeah, well Mom’s dead,” he says to me.

“When did that happen?” I say to him not really caring that his Mother has died.

“A few days ago. She died on Christmas morning. Not that you would care about that,” Michael says clearly with a tone of sarcasm towards me.

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss, but we were divorced, and she was not my problem nor my concern or don’t you understand that?” I say to him in just as sarcastic manner.

“Are you really sorry Dad? You two were married for 16 years and then you were gone. It’s like you decided to just leave my life,” Michael says to me.

“I didn’t decide to just leave your life. Your Mother took me to court, made false accusations about me and convinced the judge she needed more money. She always kept begging the court for more and more money. First, it was that the amount of child support wasn’t enough. Then it was she needed more alimony. You’re Mother only cared about how much money she could get from me,” I said to him not feeling very remorseful regarding her passing.

“And yet, you could never find the time to come see me,” Michael says to me.

“Kind of tough to come to see you when she slapped a restraining order on me. She was all about wanting my money but letting me see you she tried her damnest to stop me. If you don’t believe me, I have lots of court paperwork that I can show you. But you probably don’t want to see the truth, you only want to live in your fantasy world regarding your Mother,” I say to him now really getting pissed off.

Michael keeps eating. “My compliments to the chef. This is really good,” he says to me.

“Well, if you can manage to turn around and see the two guys in the white chef’s attire, those are the guys who made all the food,” I say to him.

“Huh, well tell them that the food is good,” he says to me.

“No. How about you use the manner that you were taught and get your ass out of that chair and go tell them yourself that you enjoyed the food that they spent hours cooking. Or is that too much for you to do?” I say to him, getting more and more agitated by his lack of manners.

“Eh, I’ll tell them later. Right now, I’m hungry,” he says with a sarcastic smile on his face.

I reach over and take his plate and toss it into a trash receptacle.

“Hey, what the hell did you do that for?” he says.

“Because apparently, you forgot how to conduct yourself in someone’s home. I ask you to go thank the chefs and you act as if that is beneath you to do. Well, guess what smartass, your done eating, and drinking. You are welcome in my home, but you will follow my rules, or you can just get the fuck out,” I say to him really pissed off now.

We both look at each other with a steely-eyed glare. Several things are going through my mind right now. First, he is acting like a self-righteous ass. Second, he is acting as if he can do or say whatever he wants. Well, that is not going to happen in my own home. I love my son, but he isn’t going to say whatever he wants, not in my house not now not ever.

“Michael, I think it is time for you to leave. I’ve extended your courtesy that I don’t normally extend. You’ve acted like an ass, clearly, you learned that move well from your Mother And, you have yet to say why you have even shown up here. When you’re ready to talk feel free to contact me and we can arrange a time for you to return,” I say to Michael. I am about as mad at him as I can be without resorting to violence.

“Out of curiosity, did you ever graduate from college. The college that I paid for?” I ask.

“Naw, I couldn’t find a program that would make me a high-ranking manager once I graduated. Maybe I’ll find something this New Year,” he says with a stupid smile on his face.

“Well, I hope you have success in that,” I tell him.

“What? You’re not going to help your only son?” He says to me.

“Nope. Those days are over. You want to go to college, you should probably look at community college and start applying for tuition subsidies,” I say to him smiling.

“What? You expect me to go to community college?” he says to me.

“Since you pissed away the college tuition that I paid for you, I really don’t care where you go because you are on your own at this point. You’re 26 years old and my legal obligation to pay your tuition ended 2 years ago,” I tell him. Still, he seems that I’m going to be paying for his laziness. John went to community college and now he has graduated with a degree in management.

“It was nice to see you on TV with that whore that was hanging on your arm. How many more of them do you have in your life,” he says to me.

“As many as I fucking want. I don’t answer to you and I’m certainly not going to listen to your smartass mouth. I’m suggesting to you right now that you get your ass out of that chair and head towards the front door,” I suggest to Michael.

“And if I don’t. There really isn’t anything that you can do about it,” Michael says to me in a smart-mouth manner.

“How much do you want to bet that I can have you on the floor tied up, so you look like a calf at the rodeo. Care to challenge me?” I say to him, now really pissed off.

“Go ahead, old man. You got nothing,” he says.

Just to make it a bit more dramatic. I snap my fingers and two of the Secret Service guys yank him out of the dining table chair and use zip ties to cuff his wrists first then his ankles.

I lean into him as he is laying on the floor, “The next time you decide to be a smartass in someone’s house, you might want to make sure they don’t have their own Secret Service protection team working for them.