Next Thursday, Lisa walked out of the doors at Detroit airport pulling her suitcase behind her and approached a waiting taxi; "hi," she said once she had walked up to it and opened the backseat door and got in, "could you take me here, please?" handing the driver a piece of paper with Greg and James' address on it.
"Sure," the driver answered, putting the address in his navigation unit and turning on the pay calculator before pulling out onto the road. Lisa looked out the window watching the passing neighbourhoods until about 45 minutes later; pulling up in front of a generic tiny box like double storey house in a fairly impoverished looking suburb, certainly not what she'd imagined, or seen when passing through other neighbourhoods on their trip; it wasn't quite like 8 Mile, but certainly nothing at all like where they'd been living in New Jersey. "That's 63.45, plus tax and tip," the driver muttered, Lisa sighed and took 75 dollars out of her wallet and passed it to him, "seriously? The going rate for a tip is 25%!" he shot back rudely.
"No, it's not. Not for a taxi driver it isn't. Take it and shut it, or I'll ask for my change," Lisa snapped back, and the driver muttered under his breath but didn't say anything more, as Lisa pulled her bag out of the backseat, and slammed the door, and the rude taxi driver peeled off.
James peered out the window, "Greg," he muttered, "why is Lisa here?"
"Yeah, right, because the last time Lisa was around, the crucifix in the lounge room turned upside down and the fridge magnets rearranged themselves into an inverted pentagram," Greg laughed, walking over to the window, "goddamn, that is Lisa. How did she get our address?"
"She must've got it when I gave it to her for my work reference," James mumbled, "why is she here? She's seriously not here thinking she can rock up uninvited and stay here for however long she's in Detroit, do you think?"
"I don't know," Greg whispered back, "but I've got an idea," he grinned at James, "Ty! Come here buddy!" and Tyson came bounding down the stairs wearing a Led Zepplin t-shirt, jeans, and Nike sneakers, his hair was unbrushed, and he had a mischievous grin on his face. Greg grinned seeing Tyson standing in front of him and how he looked, "Absolutely brilliant. Tyson, you wanna play a prank?"
"No," James laughed, "oh my God,"
"I know I tell you not to open the front door, but this one time you're allowed to; a lady is going to come to the front door and you're going to open it. You're going to pretend to be me, okay? Her name is Lisa, and what you're going to say is…" Greg tried to rush through the instructions while he still had the time to, and in between giggles, "we'll come out afterwards, okay?" Tyson nodded enthusiastically, giggling. Greg and James went and hid, "teach her to just invite herself to stay here and rock up without telling us," Greg whispered, his eyes shining with excitement as he closed the door he was hiding behind so it was barely ajar.
"You're evil," James grinned, hiding behind the couch.
Lisa hauled her heavy bag to the driveway and stared at all the vehicles crowding the house, there was a classic off-brown Challenger with the hood up and a big guy working underneath it, a blown up, rusting old white Taurus on the front lawn with several parts missing; and three late model cars crowding the driveway; a bright fire engine red, lifted Ford F-150 Raptor truck, a black Toyota Sequioa SUV, and a giant dark green Chevy Silverado 2500 which dwarfed even her truck at home. Redneck central. They could live in a much nicer neighbourhood if they sold all these expensive trucks, Lisa thought, shaking her head, as she rang the doorbell.
A young boy answered the front door; "damn Lisa! You are looking fine!" the boy whistled and winked. Lisa narrowed her eyes at the boy; he looked to be about six; but my God if he didn't look like Greg with his messy long brown curls, a tall, lanky body, long face, and those exact same piercing blue eyes staring back at her with an intensity and ferocity she'd only ever seen Greg come close to.
"Who are you?" Lisa questioned, narrowing her eyes further.
"I didn't think you'd forget me so fast, Cuddy, it hasn't even been a year yet. It's me; Greg, obviously. Yeah, I signed up for some drug trials and one was a military level anti-aging medication they were going to use at Area 51 to make sure the soldiers stayed young and fit forever. Turns out it works a bit too well, and my body reverted back to its six-year-old self, although I still remember everything I knew before if you know what I mean," the boy winked at her again, "but can't you tell it's still me?" the boy stood aside to invite Lisa inside, "come in, come in," and then Tyson decided to improvise; as he playfully smacked Lisa's backside, before he pulled his arm back and put his arms around behind his back. Lisa spun around incredulously with her eyes flashing, to stare down at the little boy who just stared blankly back, "what do you say?" he shrugged.
Lisa heard a crash and a muted gasp coming from behind the couch, she put her bag down on the floor and marched over to the couch, where she saw James lying on his back with his hair splayed out all around him, his brown eyes staring back at her, his hands wrapped over his mouth, his cheeks going red and his chest quivering from holding in hysterical laughter. "Alright, you got a practical joke on me, it's not that funny. Where's Greg?"
James swallowed his laughter still lying on the floor, "he just answered the door, you were just talking to him,"
Rob came in the front door; "Tyson! Who were you talking to? We've told you a million times to not let strangers in the house just because they knock! I'm sick to death of you letting cold callers inside!" Rob pointed at Lisa, "you, whoever you are, put back whatever you've taken, and get out," Lisa didn't move, Rob disappeared up the stairs and came back down, pulling a glock, "get the fuck out of my house, lady!"
Lisa stood, paralysed in fear, as this man waved a gun in her face, "get the fuck out before I blow your fucking brains out! What the fuck do you want?" as he stuck a gun in her face, Lisa put her hands up and started to tear up.
"Rob, Rob," Greg rushed out from behind the door, "this is Lisa, she's come to visit… without asking, James and I spotted her through the window and decided to prank her by pretending that Ty was me, I told him to let her in. We know her,"
James crawled out from behind the couch, and Lisa watched as Rob clicked the safety back on the gun and stuck it in his waistband, oh my God, he'd taken the safety off, he was really about to kill me. Lisa thought in horror. "So, you're Lisa?" Rob approached her, holding out his hand which Lisa took in her trembling hand, "sorry to have scared you… we weren't expecting anyone,"
You weren't expecting me, but Greg and James still pulled a practical joke on me that escalated so fast and far that I very nearly got my brains blown out! "it's fine," Lisa said in a shaky voice, "I should've called ahead. I wanted to surprise the guys, but no, it's all fine, you're just protecting your home,"
"Yeah, we have had a couple of break ins, including one where Tyson let the thief into the house!" Rob turned and glared coldly at the boy who looked like Greg, who cowered ever so slightly and crept behind Greg's legs, "you can stay down in the basement. The boys can stay in the spare room upstairs. How long are you in Detroit for?" Rob started walking further into the house, and Lisa followed him, answering that it was nearly a week; Greg, James and Tyson also led her outside. James bent down and with a huff picked up a little girl as they walked from the lounge room to the kitchen and out the back. The backyard was small, with an old table covered in junk, a small barbeque, and a tiny patch of grass with a swing set down the bottom.
James put the little girl down, "that's Charlie," he introduced, "she's very shy, very quiet. Basically, the opposite of Tyson; who's very outgoing and bubbly,"
"Oh, so Tyson looks like Greg, but is outgoing and bubbly; not sullen and withdrawn," Lisa joked, which Greg then rolled his eyes.
"Very similar to Greg at that age, actually. Tyson's life is a lot better than Greg's was as a child," Rob muttered.
"Oh right, I'm really sorry, but who are you?" Lisa asked, and Rob's eyes, the same piercing blue, shot up and stared at her coldly.
"I'm Rob," he muttered under his breath, "and you're Lisa," when Lisa looked at him to give more information, he sighed, "I'm the kids' granddad, and Greg's uncle- his mother's brother. And Greg and James have completely taken over the parenting roles as fathers. Don't mind me, I'll just have a bit to cool down- I'm still a bit riled up about that prank. Don't worry, I'm not actually scary," Rob explained, as he opened an old jelly jar and pulled out a Ziploc bag, "pass me the scissors and bowl, Greg," as he pulled out several buds of marijuana and began cutting it in tiny pieces into the bowl, "that should do for now," he grumbled to himself, pulling a bong out from underneath the table, packing and lighting it up as he inhaled, held in and then coughed and spluttered slightly. Greg got up when the kids called him over and went to push them on the swings, "he's a natural dad," Rob smiled, "he just lights up when he is doing anything with the kids. He'd rather be with them most of the time, than being with us,"
James reached over to grab a different bowl and Rob passed him the scissors, as James opened a different old jelly jar and pulled out another bag of marijuana, started cutting it up and packing it into the cone as Rob passed him the lighter, and he took a deep inhale. "James!" Lisa gasped, "what the hell do you think that you're doing? You're a parent now! God, you're over here acting like you're in high school smoking weed in front of your kids! And what about what it's doing to your body? God, I never thought I'd say this but take a piece of advice out of Greg's books on drugs and don't do it around the kids!"
James rolled his eyes, turned his head towards Lisa and blew the smoke straight into her face, before pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, moving his bong over to the side, and lighting up the cigarette, taking a drag. "Okay, so something I've learnt over my time living here and becoming a dad and everything is that I don't mince and sugar coat my words anymore, so here it goes. First of all, Lisa, you have no damn idea what you're talking about, about anything. You haven't experienced what we have as a family, even since living here, you have no idea. Secondly, its only pot, we're not shooting up heroin or meth in front of the kids. Thirdly, Greg can hit a bong like Snoop Dogg, so don't put him up on a pedestal or act like he's a damn DARE mascot; not that it matters, because weed is totally legal in Michigan! You wouldn't be judging us if we were sitting around having a beer, would you? Fourthly, you rock up to our home and expect us to house you for a week with no notice when we all have other things going on, and Greg and I now have to sleep in what is essentially a wardrobe of a tiny room because you've taken over the basement where we sleep, because we're good hosts. You even asked Greg and I multiple times if you could stay here and we both said no, neither of us particularly wanted you here, because while the hatchet is buried, the scars remain. Lastly, this is medicinal marijuana, so shut up,"
"You never explicitly told me no…" Lisa started, they certainly never said 'yes' or even 'okay', however… "I don't know what you've been through as a family, but James, this doesn't seem to be the right way to go about it, when I called a few weeks ago, you were both talking up this amazing life you've now got in Detroit, and I get here, to see a rickety old house in a bad neighbourhood, and after you and Greg pull a childish prank on me, your partner's uncle pulls a glock out on me and waves it in my face threatening to kill me! I offer you and Greg the ability to move back to Jersey and you don't take it because you're 'happy' here; when all I see is someone whose just regressed from who he was to now… this. Not to mention that's hardly medicinal, is it? Look at your hair, if you were sick with cancer, you wouldn't have a mane like that!" Lisa could tell from the expressions of Rob and James, or that Greg was now striding up the back yard towards them, that she was walking the line between having taken this too far.
"Look Lisa, it doesn't damn well matter what you think okay? We don't want to leave Michigan, and we're not going to. That's all that should matter in that conversation. The fact that you 'wish there was a way to know you are in the good old days before you've actually left them' or whatever you said is irrelevant, those days are gone Lisa, they're never coming back. You might not think we live up to your life standards, but I frankly don't care. Greg and I have a wonderful life here, we have two beautiful children, yeah, we don't have a big house, but we don't need one, and it is clean, and it is safe, and our children eat three meals a day. Also, no, I don't have cancer, thanks for your clear concern there; but cancer isn't the only medical condition they prescribe for- and I do have anorexia and bulimia that you caused to relapse! Wanna make fun of that again, Lisa? So, when I smoke my medicinal pot, I actually get an appetite and can stomach eating! To be totally honest with you, Lisa, I don't like you- at all, not after I saw your real side and continue to do so with how judgmental and awful you are! Greg might not see it fully, but I do. The fact that Greg wants you as an acquaintance is the only reason I'm tolerating you right now; but I have to warn you, my tolerance is dropping!" James snapped, "why are you even here, Lisa? You arrive here uninvited with the expectation that we'll house and feed you for a week, so you don't have to pay for a hotel; even after we said no. But we still offered you into our home with open arms, and all you've done since then is speak awfully to us!" James snarled, so angry his teeth were borne into a venomous snarl as he spoke.
"Wait, you're the Lisa that caused James' eating to relapse?" Rob barked, "far out," as he got up and walked inside, thinking of all the stress in the home that this woman had caused, and how hard James, Greg, himself, and Josie had worked to get James back on track, and how much stress it had put on all of them.
"Lisa," Greg said as he sat down and started packing a new cone in Rob's bong, "James is right, you weren't invited to come here. It's not a good look to arrive unannounced at someone's home expecting to stay a week when you've been told not to come, more than once, and proceed to insult everything when you don't understand the back stories as to why it is what it is; like why Rob pulled a glock on you when he thought you were an intruder. We also don't want to go back to Jersey, ever. We live a very happy life here and want to keep it that way, we're not going to ask you to leave yet, Lisa, but you're walking on thin ice. If you don't calm down and keep your thoughts to yourself, you have to go. We're doing our best here with what we all have. Things haven't been easy for any of us who live here; so you need to keep in mind that we're doing all we can, and we're the only people any of us have; and you need to keep your opinion about the pot to yourself. No one is addicted or dependent on it- and it doesn't affect the kids any more than it would if we were to have a couple of drinks. You're not the boss here, Lisa. This is Rob's house, and he is very much the patriarch of the family. If you're going to stay here you need to hold your keep and be respectful, Rob has done a hell of a lot for James and I, Lisa and you have to respect him and his home," to which Lisa nodded back with tears filling her eyes. Greg nodded back with that smile that Lisa missed and thought about so much, "okay, good,"