I get up and walk inside to get the food prepared for the barbecue. Daniel helps as does Logan, and we cook up a storm.
After dinner and a general chit-chat around the table, the girls head inside with the kids, putting the younger ones to bed and us men head to the man cave to really get this party started.
“Have a good time,” Callie calls out as we all head off down the hall.
Aiden has the area set up with posters of half-naked women, cars, and football teams. “Wow, does Jeni know about all these naked women?” Mike asks as he looks at a poster and laughs.
“Are you kidding me? She’s the one who picked them out. She said if you’re not having strippers, then you need something to get your heart racing…” Aiden shakes his head with a chuckle. “Her words, not mine,”
“Well, thank… you… Jeni,” I boast as I ogle at some brunette in black lace on a Harley. H.O.T!
Logan pours a round of beer from the keg. “Here’s to Mike,” Logan cheers, raising his glass.
“Here, here,” I say, and we all clink our pint glasses together and beer spills everywhere. Then we all down our beer in one go, including Mike.
“Right, poker or pool?” Aiden asks, and we all look to Mike.
It’s his night, so we do what he wants. “Um… pool, poker’s more fun when we’re wasted,” Mike declares.
The night flows with plenty of male bonding and a shitload of beer. We’ve finished the keg I had delivered, and now we’ve hit Aiden’s whisky collection. He’s brought out the old Macallan, and we’re all sipping it around the poker table. Honestly, I can hardly keep my eyes focused. I’m beyond plastered, and I know I am going to pay for it in the morning when Ella cries or Ethan jumps on the bed. Either way, I’m going to be in a world of hurt.
“Cheek,” Logan slurs as it comes to his turn.
“Don’t you mean check?” Aiden corrects.
“Cheek, check, same difference… either way, I fold, my hand’s shit,” he grumbles and turns his cards up showing three sevens.
“Dude, you had three sevens. That’s a good hand,” Killian chuckles.
Logan looks at his cards again. “Oh fuck, I thought I was seeing triple,” he rubs his face. “I’m so drunk. Dammit! I unfold,” he declares and picks his cards back up, and he stares at them with his eyes wide like he’s trying to focus on them but can’t.
It makes me laugh. Mike’s having a blast. I’ve never seen Mike drunk—he’s actually pretty funny.
“Hey, Chris… did you know my friend, Billy, is a poker player, and he lost his arm in a nasty accident. He’s now got a prosthetic replacement, and he just can’t deal with it,” Mike jokes.
For some reason, we all laugh like it’s the funniest thing we’ve ever heard. Of course, it is so lame and more like a dad joke.
“Oh, you like that one? What about this one…” He smiles. “A boy comes home from school and walks into his parents’ room where he sees his mom and dad are in bed making love. The boy asks, ‘What are you doing?’ His dad replies, ‘Playing poker. Now get out.’” Logan snickers, and it’s not even the butt
of the joke yet. “He goes to his older sister’s room to find his sister and her boyfriend in bed making love. The boy asks, ‘What are you doing?’ His sister replies, ‘Playing poker. Now get out.’ He goes to his older brother’s room and finds his brother masturbating. He asks his brother, ‘What are you doing?’ His brother replies, ‘Playing poker.’ The boy asks, ‘I thought that it takes two to play poker.’ His brother replies, ‘Not if you have a good hand.’”
Man, Mike’s jokes are killing us. We laugh and continue to play poker into the stupid hours of the morning. All the other guys have decided they’re hungry, so they’ve gone to the kitchen to eat some leftover barbecue food while Mike and I sit in the man cave smoking cigars.
“So, you having a good night?” I slur, trying to keep my eyes focused on Mike.
“Yeah, I’m having the best guys’ night out I’ve had in… well… ever! I am so glad my son has taken me in the way he has. Aiden means everything to me, so to have his approval is the best thing a father could ask for,” Mike slurs, then takes another guzzle of his whisky.
Instantly, I sober up. “You mean best thing a stepfather could ask for, right?”
“Yeah…” Mike pauses sitting taller. “Why? What did I say?” Mike asks.
“You said the best thing a father could ask for, you also called Aiden your son.”
Mike averts his eyes from me, nis nostrils flaring. “I’m drunk, I just think of him like a son, slip of the tongue… that’s all.”
“Mike, what aren’t you telling me?” I ask, and he exhales and runs his hand through his hair. He’s suddenly very pale, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple.
“Chris, don’t push this.”