"What, no lecture about using alcohol to fill our empty, inner waste land? Or how I should keep Charlie's spare kidney in good working order," I asked suspiciously when my father remained silent after my tinsel remark.
No way would Alan Eppes ever take Pimp Master Frosty lying down.
"You know, Don," My father ground out between clenched teeth. "It is stupid remarks like that second one that really make me want to smack you hard upside the head."
A more naive person may think my father might let this topic drop gracefully. I knew better. Not my father. My Dad is a fierce defender of free will, free press, and uncensored creative expression, without a doubt. Just not for his sons. He was switching tactics. Angling to get me on the ropes, and I could tell he was settling for nothing short of a knock-out this morning.
"You have the moral high ground on the subject of withholding information from family members, for once. I wouldn't want to take that moment from you. It comes so rarely. Enjoy it," My father stated in tone I'd come to dread. Experience had taught me when he used that particular tone I had already lost the argument, I just didn't know it yet. It was just the matter of to what degree he had decided he was going to make me suffer first. "You and Charlie are both over twenty-one."
That was WAY too easy.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at my father and demanded, "What are you plotting?"
"Plotting?" My father asked pleasantly, "I don't know what you mean?"
Oh, whatever he was scheming was going to bad. I knew it. This was going to be bringing my Batman lunch box from elementary school, holding it up high in the middle of the bullpen for all my co-workers to see and announcing at the top of his lungs, "Donnie, I packed your lunch" type of painful.
"Besides," My Dad was suddenly looking me over like he was a predator and me the cute, hapless, furry mammal on his la cart menu for the morning meal, "I'm in a very forgiving mood this morning since Charlie agreed to Millie's idea of all of us sharing our New Year's resolutions as a means to get to know each other better."
"Charlie still doesn't understand the concept of 'anything you say can and will be used against you' rule for the police state we live in," I declared, all the while images of Charlie, jagged rocks, and the fatal falling height of sixty-one feet dancing through my head. Eagles have it SO easy. "He was being sarcastic. And you know it."
"Your brother said and I quote, "Oh yes, that's a brilliant idea". As a parent I chose to ignore the sarcasm," My father stated happily. He had me on the ropes and he knew it, too. "I also invoke the parent's right of what one sibling must do, so must the other. Wouldn't want you to feel left out of the family festivities or think I was playing favorites."
It is reasons like this why, in their fantasies, serial killers murder their families over and over again.
"This is sinking to a new low even for you."
"Low?" My father asked trying his best innocent look, "I have no idea what you mean."
"You are ruthlessly using your girlfriend, and the fact she's Charlie's boss, to shamelessly fish for more insights in to our psyches. That way you can use them to enhance your ability to screw with our heads and better target your relentless campaign for grandchildren."
"A better parent would try to deny it." My father suddenly got an expression on his face and the only way to describe it was the expression the Grinch wore the very moment when he decided Who-ville was going down. "Besides my on-line support group for families of law enforcement,"
On-line support group?
"Who has given me some wonderful insights, insists..."
Insights?
"I should keep trying to involve you in family activities. Mary especially, her daughter Beth is FBI by the way, tells me it's very important."
Oh, dear God, no.
Please, tell me, he didn't.
"Mary has been so wonderful with her advice. I invited both her and Beth to dinner next time they're in town."
There was the knock-out.
I was on the mat, drooling. I knew it, too. Payback was truly an art form, and my father a genius way ahead of his time. Intellectually speaking, around this household, I had always been a pit-bull trapped in a toy poodle body. One day I was going to learn to roll over and present my belly to the Alpha like the unfortunate critter at the bottom of the food chain that I was.
Not today.
But some day.
"You know, Dad? That offer for the retirement community in Florida is still on the table. If you leap on it now, before this upcoming New Year's massacre, I still might even be able to strong arm Charlie in to pitching in to help pay for a place that will actually unchain you from the bed."
"Just for the record, Stan inherits everything," My father stated happily as he headed in to the kitchen. "So you can just get the idea of big insurance payouts out of your head."
"Who said anything about money? I plan not to set the hand brake when I park you at the top of the stairs, just for the fun of it."
Suddenly my father was handing me a hot cup of coffee. "So while you were 'bonding' with your brother last night. Did he give you any helpful insights in to what's been bothering him?"
"He's mom's son." And that was all I was going to say on the matter. Charlie's secrets were just that; Charlie's secrets. Besides I knew what it was like to be forced to choose between your family and a woman you cared for. It was an awful spot to be in. I was not putting my father there.
"Why do I think that vague statement is one of your packed-with-meaning ones that drives me crazy?" My father grumbled. "Kind of like the time I called you and asked you how your life was, and your reply was, 'Pins and Needles'. Only for me to later find out a suspect had tackled you off a roof and you needed two pins put in your shoulder, and when I called the needles were still connecting various tubes."
My only comment was a grunt as I took a sip of my coffee.
My father sighed, "All Charlie and I seem to do anymore is argue over every little thing. Add in since Charlie is tucked snuggly away in bed, and you're way too coherent to be hung over. I have a pretty good idea I know who's responsible for the monstrosity on the front lawn, too."
I studied the black depths of my coffee for a few moments before replying, "What's bothering Charlie isn't about you, Dad. Okay? It's something he's got to work through. And please don't give Charlie too hard time about last night. I needed it more than he did."
"Yeah about that," My father took a sip of his coffee and continued, "I noticed you didn't eat last night when I cleared the table."
"I wasn't hungry. I had a rough day at the office."
"You've been having a lot of 'rough days' recently." Dad was eyeing me up and down with a concerned look on his face, "I couldn't help but notice the sweats you keep over here to sleep in are starting to hang on you in spots."
"I'm fine"
"Would you tell me if you weren't?"
"I am fine, Dad." I stated matter of fact. "I had few of my migraines recently."
"Please define the Don Eppes' parameters of a 'few'."
"A couple." I announced, suddenly very annoyed. What was it with parents that despite how old you were they could suddenly make you feel six years old again? "Blurry vision. Some Aura. Nausea. Light sensitivity. No emergency room visits. Happy?"
"Don, there have been huge advancements..."
"Don't start," I snapped. I had heard it all before, numerous times, in fact. "I've lived with these since I was six. Besides these migraines aren't nearly as bad or as frequent as the ones I had when I first moved home."
"More reason to be proactive now and..."
"Dad."
"Your brother could do a little research..."
"Drop it."
"Maybe get a referral..."
"No."
My father and I just glared at each other across the table when this clichéd, cheesy western-like stand-off was broken up by my pager suddenly going off and my cell phone ringing.
"This discussion is not over."
"Yes. It is." I replied back. Reaching for my cell phone I flipped it open and snarled, "This had better be good. I'm not on until midnight."
"Sorry to bother you, Don." It was Megan's voice on the other end of the line.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone screwed up on the warrant we moved on yesterday. Everything we got is inadmissible."
Crap.
"I'll be right in."