”“Oh, gee! Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.” Dinner went surprisingly well. It was your typical dinner conversation about current events, Mr.D’s work, Dudley’s school, and a lot about Rock and Melissa. Melissa was an instant hit, and everyone liked her/me. The best part is that we were in the homestretch, and it was time for my sudden “headache”.“Oh, Melissa hun. Do you need anything? We have Motrin upstairs,” Mrs.D said with a sympathetic smile.“That’s okay, mom, I think we’re just gonna call it a night and I’ll bring Missy home.”“Nonsense, we didn’t have your mother's cake yet.” Mr. D’s military background rarely let him stray from a well-organized plan. “Besides, there’s something I want to talk to you about. Dudley will show Melissa to the upstairs bathroom where we have some medicine, mother will clear the table, and you and I can step outside." I grabbed Rocks leg under the table and squeezed.“Er… Uh… yes, sir.” Shit!I followed that little shit Dudley up to the. ‘Don’t go on a mad one.’ Daniel Christopher cast a disapproving look at his son. ‘I’ll do what I want in my own bloody home. And get your feet off the coffee table. What have I said about shoes in the flat?’ Craig bit off the retort, thinking it was hardly surprising his mother had found someone else while he lifted his boots from the glass table, unlacing and pulling them free. ‘Sorry,’ lied Craig, the footwear going down on the floor next to the sofa. ‘Okay, what’s on your mind?’ He settled back onto the couch and made a piss-take show of undivided attention, hands folded across his stomach, an ankle up on one knee as he gave his father the innocent look. Daniel sat down in the armchair across from the sofa. He looked at his son for a moment or two, nodding, a moue of contemplation pursing his lips as he, in typical style, carefully considered his words. ‘You staying here was meant to be a temporary arrangement,’ he finally said. ‘It’s only been three weeks, dad,’ Craig put in,.
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