I'm browsing YouTube on my phone, when I get thirsty. I go down to fill my water bottle. There is this weird looking older Guy, with spiky hair sipping from a flask, and just chilling the fuck out with his feet on the table. He has this white jacket thing that I conclude from that he's probably one of mums colleagues, and just waiting for her to come home. I get that mum needs some company almost daily since the divorce. And I really don't mind her friends. They don't patronise me like dad always did. And anyhow it's not like I have any of my own.
"Wazzup Morty?" he asks in a familiar voice. Mum must have said quite a bit about me for him to not even introduce himself first. I feel a bit awkward because she has never said a thing about this guy, and just go along with his familiarity: "Yeah umm...pretty good. Just getting some school essays done." He looks like he catches my lie, but doesn't thankfully comment. I fill my bottle, while he looks at me with this weird look on his face like something about me is a bit off. I nervously tell him: "Beth should be home in like an hour. She texted me earlier so… Yeah. Um. I'll just go back to my room." He just silently nods. I retreat my troops faster than Canada, and slide back on my bed ASAP.
An hour runs by without much thought. A shiver passees through me and I hear mum pull up onto the driveway. She's holding a bag of groceries. I wave at her through my window, signaling that I'd much rather stay up than go all formal and drag my ass down again. She smiles, and blows me a kiss, basically giving me the all green to stay cooped up. I return to my bed.
I know we don't really talk, unless she drunkenly comes to pour her heart on me. I secretly cherish those times. It sounds real fucked up to say, but it works for the two of us. Since Summer is off studying, mum fills the house with her friends. They stay often over for the night. Sometimes in her bed, sometimes not. The two of us even renovated that spare storage room into a guest bedroom. And I really don't mind her exploring her sexuality, after all that is what we got that soundproofing for. Best of all I don't now have to be all hush-hush while wanking to some scummy porn online.
My thoughts on family ethics get interrupted by a text from mum to "come dowstairs for a talk." There goes my being alone all evening.Oh jeesh, don't tell me that spiky hair dude is going to become something. I mean he's pretty nice looking for an older guy, but still. As I'm walking down the stairs I'm thinking it can't be a money thing since she just got that hefty promotion.
Things downstairs defy my expectations. Mum is all teary, but smiling and holding his hand. This man is looking at a weird gadget somewhere between a remote and a handgun, with a glowy green light on top, and frowning. Mum looks at me and with a reassuring smile now:" Sorry Morty but your grandpa from another dimension decided to stay for dinner. Thought this could be a family thing, If you catch my drift."
It takes me quite a bit to recover, and she looks worried. When I can't think of anything to say she asks me to help her with prep in the kitchen. I oblige. This 'grandpa' of mine is left with his gun/remote in the livingroom. I'm unpacking things into the fridge when she starts to speak: "So you remember that time when I told you all about your grandpa who invented all those cool things, and then wasted his brilliant mind to alcoholism. Yeah, so our Rick died when you were kneehigh. But there are endless Ricks running around alive and well in their own dimensions. We just had shit luck and our Rick… So they all invented those portalguns he was holding back there, and we aparently live in a really easily mistake inducing universe code. So over the years a few Ricks have come by with their Mortys by accident. This Rick explained that to me just a minute ago. Isn't it weird. Makes me feel all small.". She rambles on and pours some wine onto the ovenpan. "With their Mortys?" I pick up. She places the chicken into the wine with some ready chopped veggies from a clear bag with 'organic' written on the packaging way too many times.
I go to dry my hands, and notice this Rick leaning on the doorframe. It's stiff not casual. He's looking at us and our eyes meet as he answers:" Yeah most Ricks take their Mortys on dangerous adventures through space. I prefer to keep my Morty safe at home where he belongs." I feel a bit affronted by his belittling of my survival skills, but quickly agree with mum who quips back:" If your Morty is anything like mine he is probably happier that way. This one would live in his bed If he didn't have to do school on the computer at his desk." They laugh. It's a bit strained, but well meaning enough on both their part. Ricks eyes haven't left mine. He looks curious, 'till mum turns around having put the chicken in the oven. His eyes leave mine and smile at hers.
"So what do you do for fun back where you come from?" she asks clasping her hands together. Rick lights up and starts blabbing about interdimensional cable, and some show called 'ball fondlers'. Me and mum sit on the couch and laugh at the name. He is admant in defending it while he plugs something on our television. It's all dusty from not being used for months. Even then it was one of mums friends who drunkenly binged some Netflix show one night with a bottle of whiskey.
The small machine whirrs into action, and Rick kicks back on our new second sofa flipping through channels with the remote. For the next hour the room is filled with laughter and horrible( sometimes embarrassingly sexual) jokes, about the weird shit on screen. Mum basks in her fathers attention and Rick starts to really relax and get into the weird shit going on on screen. He talks a whole lot with his hands, obviously exited to explain what happens on every show. I even manage to make them laugh with a few jokes of my own. Mum looks surprised by my socialness, and gives me an encouraging squeeze on the forearm.
An alarm goes off on the kitchen counter, and I go to help mum set up the table. Rick again leans on the doorframe, this time he looks like he belongs there. I put the chicken on the table between our cutlery, and mum uncorks a red wine. She doesn't ask me anymore, just pours us all a glass. It makes me feel all grown up and shit.
Rick takes his place opposite to us, while mum rummages the fridge for some fig jam that she says she knows is there. Rick stares at me again, but this time smiles too. I smile back while mom shouts: "Heureka!"
I listen intently while they exchange information on their Jerrys, not really caring about the topic, but instead weighing this new character infront of me. He loves the food and: "Maybe freedom from that maggot of a man increases freedom and cookingskills." While Rick says this he gets this gleam in his eyes that wrinkles the corners. Mum has a load of friends that call themself "chill", but never reach his level of suave. Mom looks complete, but I can't push away the nagging feeling that this man is a stranger.
Too soon second helpings are finished, and the bottle is empty.
Rick leans back on his chair:" Beth, you have been an excellent host, but I really must get back to what I was supposed to do. Would have one angry gazorpazorp waiting If he doesn't get his delivery this moon." The alien name sounds weird rolling so casually of his tongue. Mum is almost in tears and says he's welcome. It sounds like an invitation to return, but I think she and I knows at the back on our minds that If this man is at all like that alcoholic we had, this would be the last we see of him. "Hey Morty," he says snapping me out of my musings :" You can keep that cable box, it won't take too long to whip up a new one, so it's yo-EURGH-urs kiddo. The porn is between 655 and 698, just so you know to avoid it." He winks at me making mum laugh. I'm too tipsy not to join in. "Yeah, um th-thanks. I'll write it down just in- just in case. Heh," I joke. Rick laughs, gets up, shoots a green whirl with the portalgun, says his goodbyes, waves, steps through, the portal closes, and he's gone.
Beside me mum sighs smiling. She puts a hand on my shoulder and says:" That was a nice surprise." I nod and help her clean up.
I shout "good night" from the staircase, and leave her with the TV and a new bottle.