The Brat and the Brainiac (13 page)

Finally, after, like, an hour, the doctor comes to do my stitches. Ignatius is with me now, and he holds my hand as the doctor shoots my head full of Novocain. It hurts so bad it curls my toes, but soon, it’s numb enough for her to sew me up. She’s a nice doctor, one who understands the importance of a woman’s hair, and she apologetically buzzes only a very small strip.

“It’ll grow back in before you know it,” she tells me, as she gets to work on my head. A male nurse comes and puts my x-rays on that light thing they have on the wall, and when the doctor’s finished stitching me up, she goes and studies them.

“No fractures, so you’re good there. I wouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t hurt for the next week or so, though.”

“She took a pretty good hit,” says Ignatius.

Just then, another doctor comes and tells the lady doctor that my cat scan is all clear, but by then, the police are there, asking me a bunch of questions about what happened. Once they finally leave, a nurse comes by and gives me verbal instructions to follow after they discharge me.

“How many stitches?” I ask.

“Eleven.”

“Uncle Tommy’s going to flip out,” I tell Ignatius.

“I know.”

“How are we getting back to the hotel?”

“They sent a car.”

By the time we get back to the hotel, it’s around two-thirty in the morning. I am completely wiped out, so we go up to our room so I can take a shower and wash all the blood out of my hair, and then lie down until it’s time to go. I guess Ignatius takes a catnap, too, because it’s already light out when he wakes me up to go.

“Will you drive?” I ask him. “I’m too tired.”

“Yeah. Come on.”

He walks me down to the car. Our bags are already loaded into it, and the valet hands him the keys.

“Did you check the safe?” I ask him.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. You did pretty well last night, except for getting your head bashed in. You came out with thirty-nine hundred dollars.”

“That’s cool.”

When I open my eyes again, we’re in the mountains.

“Where are we?”

“About three hours from home. Do you need to stop?”

“No. I’m okay.”

I close my eyes and the next thing I know, we’re driving through a town.

“Where are we now?”

“Grass Valley.”

“Okay.”

This time, I don’t wake up until we’re pulling into our driveway at home. Ignatius helps me from the car and walks me into the house. I’ve stiffened up quite a bit since this morning, and I just don’t feel like climbing the stairs to my room.

“Can I sleep on the couch in the media room?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

I sit there until he has the couch all made up and has turned on the TV. He gives me one of my pain pills and gets me all situated before turning the lights down low. Before I know it, I’m asleep again.

The next time I wake up, Ignatius is asleep in Uncle Tommy’s favorite chair, so I fall back asleep, too, for a long time. This time when I wake up, Jason’s sitting there watching TV.

“Did you get your keys?” I ask. “I left them with Ignatius.”

He grins.

“You ask me that every time you wake up.”

“I haven’t been awake.”

“Yes, you have. Three or four times since I got here. And yes, the new scar’s okay with me.”

“You saw it? How horrifying is it?”

“It’s not too bad, but I don’t think you’ll want to braid your hair any time soon.”

“Maybe you can help me take this other one out, so I at least match.”

“Sure. Let me help you sit up.”

Jason holds out a hand to help me and I take it. He pulls me up into a sitting position and then he sits down. We’re shoulder-to-shoulder, him on my right side. He takes the end of my braid in his hands and works the rubber band loose, and then he turns my left hand up and puts it in my palm for safekeeping.

“Hang onto that,” he says.

He sits there unraveling my braid, careful not to pull or hurt me in any way. Before long, my hair’s hanging long and loose and he smiles.

“Now you look like Morticia Addams.”

“Except she didn’t have a swollen head and this collar thing around he
r
neck.”

“No. She didn’t. Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Only if you’re really careful.”

Jason smiles and leans in to kiss me, but it’s not the kiss I expected. It’s just a simple peck on the lips.

“Why the lame kiss?” I ask him. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“You said be careful. Besides, I’ve been sitting here for fourteen hours waiting for you to wake up, so what do you think? Isn’t that proof enough?”

“What about Uncle Tommy? Where’s he?”

“He went to speak to a lawyer. He’s pretty pissed off about this whole thing.”

“At me?”

“No. At the bastards who did this.”

“What about you? Are you mad at me?”

“For what? You didn’t do anything, did you? Ignatius said you were just sitting there playing quietly when this pair of crackheads came up and started brawling beside you.”

“I didn’t even have time to get out of the way,” I tell him. “And such a nice casino, too.”

“Ignatius said they were arrested and banned from the property for life.”

“Good. They deserve it. He punched one of them in the face, too. I hope he didn’t hurt his hand.”

“Nah. He’s all right. Did you have fun before you got hurt?”

“Yes! I won a bunch of money and Ignatius taught me to play Craps. Mostly. There are still a couple of things I don’t get.”

“That’s all right. Maybe when the season’s over, we’ll all go up together. Ignatius says the casino’s comping you a room and all your meals if you want to come back.”

“That’s awesome. Hey, Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“What day is this?”

“Monday.”

“Will you get real mad at me if I miss a couple more days of school? I don’t think I’ll be able to drive by tomorrow.”

“Take all the time you need, baby.”

“Okay. Hey, Jase?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Sure,” he says, getting up and helping me back down. “Come on. Lie down and get some rest.”

When I wake up again, Uncle Tommy’s just getting home from the game.

“My poor baby. I talked to you yesterday, but you didn’t seem to know who I was.”

“Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I hear you’re going to sue them.”

“I can’t,” he tells me. “Those two assholes don’t have any money. I can sue the casino, though.”

“What for? They didn’t do anything.”

“Negligence. I won’t, though. My lawyer’s working on a settlement with them.”

“You should’ve seen Ignatius give that one guy a beat-down, Uncle Tommy. Where is he, by the way?”

“Making up with Kevin.”

I can’t help smiling, even though it hurts.

“Kevin’s back?”

“Yeah. They decided to compromise. There’s a course coming up on Saturdays. He wants to become a paralegal.”

“Oh, my God. For real?”

“Yep. I was just as surprised as you are.”

“He’s nice. I hope he doesn’t move out.”

Uncle Tommy doesn’t say anything for a moment or two, and then he reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“What about you, Brat? What about your situation?”

“I guess Jason and I are back together, too, and...oh, no. I was supposed to work today.”

“Ignatius has you covered. He took your cell phone and called in for you.”

“I love him so much.”

“Who, Ignatius?”

“And Jason. It hurt me inside when we were apart.”

“We’re going on another road trip next Monday.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, I feel helpless and alone. My head is starting to pound again, and I ask my uncle for a pain pill. He gives it to me and asks me to lie down.

“Where’s Jason?”

“He’ll be here when you wake up.”

Struggling awake and opening my eyes, I glance over at the loveseat. Jason’s asleep on it, his legs dangling over the arm and his glasses lying on his chest. He doesn’t look very comfortable, but he does look adorable. I want to wake him up and talk to him, but I know he’s probably exhausted, coming off that long road trip and trying to help look after me. I hear little chopping noises coming from the kitchen and I can smell onions so, for the first time since Ignatius first laid me down to sleep, I get up on my own.

I feel a little woozy, but that’s just because I’ve been lying down for several days. I grab onto the walls and furniture and make my way into the kitchen.

“Good,” I tell him. “I was hoping that was you.”

Ignatius looks up when I say that and drops everything to hurry over and help me.

“What are you doing up?” he asks, ushering me to my regular bar stool.

“I’m hungry,” I say. “What are you making?”

“A little stew for the men, before they go to the ball field. Let me start you off with something soft.” He digs through the refrigerator to find what he’s after, and then he holds a yogurt container aloft. “How about a yogurt? I have lemon and strawberry.”

“Strawberry, please.”

He gets a spoon from the drawer and peels off the top for me.

“There. See how you do with that, and I’ll give you something more substantial later.”

“Thanks.”

I clutch it to my chest, since my left arm’s still pretty much out of commission, and eat it eagerly. Ignatius goes back to chopping, but this time mushrooms, fast and accurate.

“I could never be that fast with a knife,” I tell him, pointing with my spoon. “I’m always afraid I’ll cut myself.”

“After that hit you took off that chair? You can take anything. A little cut will be nothing.”

“You’ll have to show me when I get better.”

I get to the bottom of the yogurt container pretty fast, because once I start eating, I realize how hungry I am.

“Can I have another?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“What did Uncle Tommy say about everything?”

“He said, ‘Nice job. I should change your title to bodyguard.’”

“No, don’t do that. I need your cooking more than I need a bodyguard.”

“Not that night.”

“No. That night you were magnificent.”

He lays his knife down, his chest puffed up with pride.

“No one’s going to get away with hurting you. Not on my watch.”

“You don’t mind if I eat wood once in a while.”

“They don’t really hurt you, that’s why. Besides, you could use a good beating now and then.”

“Jeez, Ignatius. I said nice things about you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Unfortunately, I do, and it’s crazy how he figured it out, but I’m not exactly the toughest nut to crack. When it comes to discipline, it’s a lot like sex; I just have to have it from time to time.

“I hear Kevin’s back,” I say, to change the subject.

“Yes. We had a very long talk, and I think we understand each other now. Are you and Jason back together?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but we still have some things to hash out.”

“Are you going back to work?”

“Yes, and I’ve got to get busy studying for finals.”

“With your head like it is?”

“No choice.”

“Jason’s forgotten that you cursed him out before they left on their road trip?” he asks.

“I don’t know. We still need to talk about it. Where’s my other yogurt?”

He hands it to me and I eat it there, afraid to try to walk with it in my hands.

“When can I eat something real?”

“I’ll make you some waffles in a little bit. I think the stew may be a bit much for you.”

“’Kay.”

I wake up on the loveseat, an uncomfortable crick in my neck. Miranda’s not on her couch and I hear the low murmur of voices, so I follow them into the kitchen.

She’s up eating yogurt, but she still looks awful, pale, with her neck still wrapped in that cervical collar. They’re laughing about something and she says, “You know how I love your waffles.”

I don’t begrudge them their intimacy, but I wish she’d get that close to me. We get there once in a while, but nothing like they do.

Ignatius looks up when he notices me standing there.

“Come in, Jason. Sit down.”

I come and take the stool beside Miranda, and she starts licking the spoon.

“They didn’t teach you that in charm school,” Ignatius tells her. Their glances meet and she hands the spoon and the empty container to him.

“Sorry.”

“Your uncle paid a lot of money for you to go there.”

“I know.”

“Speaking of which,” I interrupt, “once you’re up and around, you’d better go get your assignments from school.”

“How am I supposed to get there?” she asks.

“Can’t I take you?” asks Ignatius.

“But I don’t want everybody to see me like this.”

I turn to her, hoping my expression matches my voice. “So you’re going to fail because you’re vain?”

She gives me an appealing glance and shakes her pretty head, as much as she can with the neck brace on.

“No. It’s not that. I just...part of my hair’s missing, and I have this thing around my neck. Not even make-up will help that.”

“You look fine,” says Ignatius. “I mean, what do you expect? You’ve been out since Saturday night.”

“Miranda, listen to me,” I tell her. “I want you to go to school tomorrow and talk to your professors about making up your assignments. I’m not expecting A’s and B’s anymore, but I do expect C’s. Otherwise, you fail. Do you understand me?”

“I guess. Anyway, I’ll just drive myself. I’ll probably do better without Ignatius there anyway.”

“Nanda, no,” Ignatius chides.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask quickly.

“I’ll use my charm and be charming, just like they taught me at charm school.”

I feel a familiar tight knot in my chest, and I picture her flirting with her middle-aged professors to get what she wants.

“Whatever,” I tell her. “Just make sure you get over there and get your assignments.”

“Um, okay, Dad.”

“I guess you’re feeling better,” says Ignatius, “since you’re talking in that smart alecky way.”

“Thank you,” I tell him.

She looks at me and apologizes. “Sorry.”

“We have an early game tomorrow, so I should be back by five to check on you.”

She nods, but she doesn’t say anything else. I figure she takes the hint, but when I get back to her place the next day, she’s in the kitchen with Ignatius again, this time having a glass of wine. She hasn’t gone to school and gotten her assignments or any notes on wha
t
she’s missed.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t feel like it today. Want a glass of wine?”

“No, and I don’t want you to have another one, either.”

”Why not?”

“Because wine is for people who get their stuff done.”

“Look,” she tells me, “I didn’t feel like going, so get off my case.”

Ignatius is busy making dinner. His head is down and he’s trying to pretend he’s not listening. I take the glass out of her hand and set it down, and then I grab her by the upper arm and lead her from the kitchen.

“What?” she asks, balking. “And don’t start pushing me around.”

“I’m not. Can we just speak privately for a moment?”

“Can you quit being so stuffy for a moment?”

I let go of her and take off my glasses so I can rub the bridge of my nose. She’s getting on my nerves now, but I don’t want to show it, so I just say, “I’m going home now.”

I start back into the kitchen, and she follows.

“Wait. What?”

“Nothing, Miranda. Never mind. You just do whatever the hell you want, okay? If you want to waste your uncle’s tuition money like that, go ahead. It’s no skin off my ass.”

“Jason, would you please stop a minute and listen to me?”

“Why should I?” I ask, whirling around to face her. “You don’t listen to me.”

“Hey,” says Tommy, coming in the back door. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing. Just trying to convince your niece that it might be in her best interest to follow up with her schoolwork, that’s all. But apparently, I’m just talking out my ass. She probably won’t even study for her fucking finals.”

“I will, too.”

“When are they?” asks Tommy.

“The week after next.”

“Great,” I tell her. “We won’t even be here to nag you into studying next week.”

“Another road trip?”

“I told you that,” said Tommy. “You act like this is something new, Miranda. It happens every season. Every season, what do we do? We go on a million road trips.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Nobody likes it,” I tell her. “It’s just part of the job.”

“Can’t you get a new job?” she asks me.

“I don’t want a new job. I like what I do.”

“You like being away from me?”

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“Miranda, wait,” says Tommy. “What does this have to do with you getting caught up on your schoolwork?”

“Nothing,” I tell him. “She’s just stalling.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jason.”

I grab her by the upper arm again and drag her towards her uncle’s study.

“This is something I’m going to break you of once and for all,” I tell her. “Now get in that study.”

“For what?”

“Guess.”

She pulls away, like she’s going to run back to her uncle for protection, but he puts up a hand and stops her.

“Would you rather I do it?” he asks her. “Because I’ll be honest, I’m not going to be any kinder about it than he is.”

“God, you guys.”

He gives her a little shove back in my direction.

“Get going. And you behave yourself.”

I take her by the hand and we walk back to Tommy’s study together. I open the door and let her go in first and then I close it behind myself and lock it.

“What does he spank you with?” I ask her. She points toward the desk.

“The paddle.”

“Which drawer?”

“Third on the left.”

I go sit down in Tommy’s chair and open the drawer. It’s sitting on top of a ream of blank paper, a solid, thick oval of wood. I remove it and lay it on the desk while I try to determine if she should go over my lap or be bent over the desk. Maybe I’ll spank her over my lap for a little while to warm her up, and then wear her out over the desktop. I get up and start moving things around to clear a space. She’s watching with fear and anticipation in her eyes.

“Come on,” I tell her, crossing the room with the paddle in my hand to go sit on the couch. “Take your pants down and get over my lap.

“Panties too?”

“Yes. We’re starting on the bare.”

“What about my neck?” she asks.

“Just keep your head down and you’ll be all right. Now come on.”

She swallows hard, but she obeys me. I let her get settled in comfortably, her left arm tucked under her body because her shoulder’s still sore, and then I start smacking her bare bottom. Her ass is nice and springy—no harm done there. I feel bad spanking her so soon after she was injured, but she needs the motivation, so I show her no leniency. I spank on and on until her butt’s all nice and pink and covered with handprints.

Finally, I speak.

“Did we agree yesterday that you’d go talk to your teachers about what happened and see if they’d give you a chance to make up your work?”

“Yes.”

I pick up the paddle and whack her with it hard. She squeals.

“Well?” I ask her. “Then why didn’t you? Do you have a good reason?”

“No. Not one you’ll accept.”

I give her another hard whack.

“The next time you agree to something, do you think you can be an adult and honor your word?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I like doing this even less than you like having it done, but I’ll be damned if I marry a lying idiot.”

“I won’t be an idiot. I’ll just be a drop-out.”

“The hell, you will.”

I start spanking her with good, firm swats. She’s kicking around, but at least she keeps her hands in front of her where they belong, her right arm wrapped around my thigh and her left one still under her body. I spank her until she turns a dark, dusky red, and then I stop.

“Go get over the desk.”

“Can’t I just stay here?”

“No. I’m going to bruise that peachy little ass of yours, and if I have to do it every day to stop you from cussing me out, I will. And when you go off to school tomorrow—and you will—it’ll give you something else to think about besides sitting around drinking wine. Now go bend over the desk.”

This rough way of speaking to her makes her start crying, but she goes and lays her upper body over the desktop, her bottom presented at the perfect level for another good paddling. I feel mean, being so stern with her, but I know it’s what she needs, so I go to her and yank her pants down further, all the way down to her knees.

“Stop crying,” I tell her, and she sniffles and tries to hold it in, at least enough so she can hear me. “Now, we’re going to do ten more and you’re going to count them off. If you lose track, we start over.”

“Yes, sir.”

I rear back and smack her ass with the paddle, and I hear a strangled reply, so I take another swipe. She keeps count, all the way up to the ninth one, and by then I see a slight bruising. I want to stop then, but there’s only one more to go, so I make it a nice, hard one to remember it by.

“Ten!” she yelps, and then she wilts over top of the desk and cries for a while. I go sit back down on the couch, feeling pissed off that she even made me spank her this hard.

“Miranda, you can get up and pull up your pants,” I tell her. She does, smoothing the denim over her sore, tender bottom. “Come here,” I say, holding out my arms.

She comes and sits beside me and I pull her into my arms until she’s calm. I’ve taken to carrying a handkerchief just for her, and I pull it out of my pocket and hand it to her. She dries her eyes and blows her nose on it, and then all that’s left is that look of betrayal she has in her eyes.

“Do you hate me?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“No. I’m just sorry I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down, you let yourself down, and you know it. And your uncle. He pays a lot of money to get you through school, and you guys had an agreement, too, didn’t you? That you’d finish this semester?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think you owe him an apology, then.”

“Okay.”

She draws away from me and stands up, taking the handkerchief with her.

“I’ll have this washed,” she tells me, leaving the room. When she’s gone, I go put the paddle back in the drawer and follow her out.

The next day, she returns to school (and work) so I don’t get a chance to see her for a couple of days, until Saturday evening. I go pick her up, thinking I’ll take her to the movies, but she asks me to take her to my condo instead. By then, she’s taken off the collar, and she says she feels better, although her shoulder’s still a little bruised.

When we get to my place, we sit down together on the couch and she makes violent love to me, first by unbuckling my belt and shoving my pants down. My cock springs free and she straddles me, shoving her panties aside and guiding me into her. I drop my head down onto her good shoulder as she fucks me. It feels so good after so long, and I hunch down a little more so I can penetrate her more fully, thrusting upwards each time her pussy swallows me to the hilt, driven by relentless need. She sounds like I’m knocking the wind out of her every time I do it. Her eyes are shut and her face is strained, like she’s hunting for something in the dark.

Suddenly, she starts to moan, and apparently, she’s found what she was looking for. She speeds up, bucking frantically, her arms around my neck. I feel her tighten and release, and then she comes to a shuddering stop.

“Oh, Jason, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, baby.”

I kiss her hard, because I haven’t come yet and I’m still hungry for her. She gets up off me and I almost want to cry, but then she slides to the floor and takes my shoes off so she can get my pants off, too. She spreads my legs apart and then she does what I’m hoping she’ll do and starts giving me a blowjob. She bends down and teases me with her tongue, licking my cock very daintily, like a little girl licking an ice cream.