Chris knocked on Gordie's bedroom door briefly before he went in regardless of the lack of reply. "Gordie? You alive? Something smells like burning."

"I'm under my bed," Gordie's familiarly soft voice called out.

"Oh yeah?" Chris acknowledged. "Smoking out the boogey man?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Then I will ask. What are you doing under there?"

"I'm organizing my scrap paper. Earlier however, I was roasting marshmallows with matches, which should explain the burning smell."

Shrugging, Chris decided that he should not question his eccentric friend. He opted to jump on the bed instead.

"CHRIS! FRAAARG!!! What are you DOING?!?!"

"Jumping! Wee!"

"WHY?!"

"Because you're under the object I'm jumping on!"

"Stop it you asshole!"

"No! Come join me if you want to live!"

Muttering curses, Gordie resentfully scurried out from under his perfectly made bed. "I'm gonna flatten you and stuff you in a blender. Then I'm gonna laugh really loud as I watch your body parts spin around at top notch but I'll be pissed if you blow the lid off and spray your guts all over my kitchen. But then I will sue you. So it's a win-win situation for me."

"My, my. What angst," Chris observed, still bouncing. "Are you gonna jump with me or are you just gonna stand there looking like a dork who looks stupid?"

Gordie considered his options. Finally, he climbed up on the bed, even though he was sure Chris' weight advantage would send Gordie careening to his death. He hopped around anyway. Thank God his dad wasn't home, in case they bounced too hard and the bed fell through the floor into the living room below.

"So Christopher," Gordie yelled above the creaking of the springs. "What brings your obnoxious self over here?"

They both giggled as Chris hit his head on the roof. Once he recovered, he yelled back, "I need to invite you to something."

"I refuse to be your prom date," Gordie told him adamantly. "But kudos to you for planning ahead."

"Thank you," Chris laughed. "Actually, I need you to grace us with your appearance at the wedding."

"A wedding? SICK! Even more no!"

"My mom's wedding, dick licker."

"Okay, you're just getting weirder and weirder," Gordie said. "I'm sorry Chris, but I am not marrying your mother. I will not be your new daddy."

Chris whaled a pillow against Gordie's head, causing him to flop backwards. Gordie decided to play it safe from now on and just stay seated on the bed. "Okay, since you're retarded, I'm going to talk real slow."

Gordie nodded in understanding.

"My mother, is getting, married. To some guy. His name. Is Liam, and he is, marrying my mom. My mom, said, I could, invite you, but I don't know why she would want a talking shit for brains moron to share in on her special day. Clear?"

Gordie's eyes were wide with surprised interest. "Jeez, Chris, she's getting married already? Didn't...didn't your dad...wasn't it just...?"

"Eight months ago last week," Chris confirmed, as distanced from emotion as if he were talking about a bank loan instead of his dead father. "Yeah, it's pretty soon. I'm not exactly jumping for joy--"

"You're jumping on my bed..."

"Not for joy," Chris said. "Anyway, she explained that we're just short on money--moreso than usual, which is hard to believe, but it's true. And this Liam character seems to be okay, I guess."

"But you don't like him," Gordie said, raising an eyebrow as he studied his best friend's face.

"Man," Chris laughed after his shock subsided. "I don't know how you just know everything that goes on in my head. It's a very complex region, my mind is. I don't understand how you read it with such ease."

"I'm a freaky deaky alien in disguise. You seemed like a good experimental brain candidate when I met you. It's the only reason why we're still friends."

"You've been an alien since kindergarten?"

"Yes, does this come as a surprise?"

"No, it's actually quite reassuring, as it explains a lot." He smirked at Gordie, with closely guarded affection for his friend glittering in his eyes. "I don't really know him, you know?"

"And so you don't know how he'll treat your mom," Gordie summed up.

"You're doing it again, Gordie," Chris growled. "Stop picking apart my innermost thoughts."

"That thought occurred to me too, actually," Gordie said indifferently. "I'm sure he's fine, Chris. Your mom won't make the same mistake twice for you guys. She's a smart woman."

"She's also a desperate woman," Chris muttered.

"She's not going to watch it happen again, Chris," Gordie told him quietly. "I know it must have felt like hell knowing he was hurting her and there wasn't a damn thing you could do to help. But think of how she must have felt to see her little boy broken because of a stranger she used to know that lived in her home."

There was a long silence. Gordie watched Chris as he slowly sat beside him, keeping his eyes on a random place on the wall. Finally, Chris looked up at him with a distracted but genuine smile. "Please don't refer to be as a 'little boy.' You sound like a pedophile."

"I'll take that suggestion and file it," Gordie said solemnly. "Anyway, what do you know about this guy?"

"Uh, that he owns that diner downtown so he's loaded. It's how he met my mom." He looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "She...she really smiles now."

"Because of him?"

"I think so," he replied.

"Well, that's good, then," Gordie said, but getting a strange, panicky feeling in his stomach as Chris' silent reflection filled the room uncomfortably. "Uh, does he have kids?"

"Two kids and a dog," he said with an ironic grin.

"Oh God, it's the Brady Bunch," Gordie exclaimed, aghast.

"Tell me about it," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Maybe they'll have an Alice."

"What are you trying to say?" he demanded. "Are you suggesting that I have a torrid love affair with their middle-aged housekeeper?"

"No."

"Then why are you leering?"

"Well...it would make it exciting."

"Oh, yeah, real exciting, Gordie," he said in disgust. "I'd have to recharge her batteries every ten minutes."

"Every TEN minutes?" Gordie shrilled. "You couldn't last ten minutes if your life DEPENDED on it! She'd be like 'Here, Chris, let me unbutton your pants' and you'd be like 'Go for it baby--oops sorry Alice! All over your checkered apron, too!' And she'd be like 'It's okay, just let me go get my mop.'"

Chris scowl dissolved into laughter as he shoved Gordie off the bed. He felt better. No matter what his family turned into, at leas he'd always have a friend.