Chapter 14: Eek, a Penis!

Monday February 27
I came downstairs to find my parents drinking coffee and talking to Rosy. She pushed a plate of huevos rancheros in front of me. If I lived in LA, I would steal her away from Rita because this woman could cook.

“Have you checked social media or any of the entertainment sites this morning?” Dad asked.

It had to be bad if Dad was the one asking.

“No. What’s going on?” I asked.

“There are ‘reports,’” Dad shared with air quotes, “of you going wild last night. Did you go skinny-dipping?”

“Not last night.”

I was proud of how I’d lawyered that response. My mom caught it, but Dad just kept on with the litany of transgressions that were reported I’d done. Most were made up. Some I wished I’d done, like riding a crotch rocket while being chased by police at three in the morning at speeds exceeding a hundred miles per hour.

“Here’s my favorite. It says that you got drunk with Grace Moreau and the two of you now are an item. The story goes on to say that you two were seen last night leaving a party together. You’re the new Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher,” Dad said with an amused expression.

That was probably a good comparison. I think the age difference between those two was about fifteen years. My guess was that Grace was in her early thirties.

“I only had one beer last night.”

“I, on the other hand, can’t remember what happened last night,” Grace Moreau said as she walked into the kitchen.

Rosy ran and grabbed Grace a cup of coffee as she joined us at the table.

I don’t know what was more entertaining for me. There was the look on my dad’s face when he assumed that I’d hooked up with her. Then there was my mom’s grin at having kept Grace’s presence a secret from him. And finally there was Grace herself, who looked like something Precious had dragged in. Thankfully, she’d at least had the chance to shower and borrow some clothes from Rita.

“David brought you home, and Rita and I helped you to bed,” Mom said.

Halle came down with Bandit. He jumped into my lap for his morning chest and ear rub.

“What was the big talk you gave everyone New Year’s Eve? Take a drunk girl home?” Halle asked.

“I’ll let Halle explain what happened last night. I need to go do my interviews, and then we have a flight to catch,” I shared.

We went to IDC – Public Relations’ in-house studio for my remote interviews. Frank and his team had managed to get a giant poster made showing me in The Royal Palm, with a tag that said I was an Academy Award-winning actor.

Before we got started, Frank took me aside.

“Grace Moreau’s publicist called, requesting that if anyone were to ask, we should say that she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her and that was why she had some tummy trouble outside of the party.”

“Like a bottle of vodka?” I asked.

“I think they are trying to avoid the discussion about her drinking,” Frank clarified.

“So, are we a couple now or what?” I asked.

Frank barked out a laugh.

“You’re getting better at keeping a straight face,” he said to praise my acting ability. “No. You were just her friend and helped her last night.”

I gave him a dramatic sigh, even though it was easier to keep close to the truth. The only flaw in his narrative was that Grace Moreau and I were not, nor would we probably ever be, friends.

“I haven’t had a fake girlfriend in like... forever!” I said, doing an overly dramatic valley girl impersonation.

“What’s up with him?” Scarlet asked.

“He gets goofy when he doesn’t get enough sleep,” Mom clarified for me.

Frank looked worried, but I ignored him. I paid him big money to worry. I had this.

During the endless interviews, the subject of Grace did come up a couple of times. I played it off that until last night, she and I had never met. I got the impression that the various reporters were surprised when I didn’t claim that we were now an item. In La La Land, celebrity couples seemed to form and break up the same day.

The good news was that no one asked about Amelia Coe and me hooking up in the bathroom. I guess morning shows didn’t delve into those particular topics.

On the flight back, Scarlet drew the short straw and got to sit by me. I assumed drawing the short straw was a good thing, and she really wanted to. Of course, she had to be pouting when she sat down so she could play hard to get. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Both Manaia and Fritz were flying back with us. Paul had called and said that people were showing up at the house again. Fritz wanted to install the drones, while Manaia would provide extra security until we figured out how crazy it would get with the announcement of my Oscar win.

Just before boarding the plane, Cindy had sent me a long email about Scarlet. Seems someone—Scarlet—had tattled on me.

Once we were in the air, and the flight had settled in, I read the email. It gave a lot of reasons why Cindy thought Scarlet craved role-playing. Bottom line, she desired someone to take charge and guide the experience. Cindy felt I was the logical choice. Cindy also believed I should have let Scarlet help relieve my tension before the TMZ interview. After reading it, I wanted to talk to Scarlet about what Cindy had shared with me.

“Cindy sent me an email that said I was wrong in how I handled the situation at TMZ.”

“You were wrong. You should have let me help you,” Scarlet said.

“Hang on, I was just looking out for you,” I said to defend myself.

“Right,” Scarlet said, drawing out the word in apparent disbelief.

“This relationship won’t work if you say ‘I told you so’ every time I admit I’m wrong.”

“Do you plan on being wrong often?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then let me have my moment,” she said, puffing up.

“Bite me, Princess.”

I smiled when Scarlet did something entirely un-Scarlet-like: she giggled.

“We okay?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a glint in her eyes.

Frick! She was going to be the death of me. Next time, I would let her help me out if I had a problem with swelling.

We chartered a plane from Chicago back home because our flight from LA arrived just in time for rush hour. Scarlet was my hero when she announced our mode of transportation. I certainly didn’t feel like sitting in traffic for hours just to get out of the city and then drive another hour and a half to get home.

At our local airfield, Roy Tyro flagged me down.

“Did you remember that you scheduled your check ride for your instrument rating today?”

I blushed. I’d set up the test thinking I would be back much earlier today. I hadn’t given any consideration to the possibility that I might win.

“Nope. Is the examiner still here?” I asked.

“She’s up with Cassidy. They should be done any time.”

Paul had brought the SUV, and I spotted my Dodge Demon in the parking lot. Cassidy must have driven that. I found my parents and informed them about what I planned to do. Cassidy could wait and give me a ride home when I was done.

An instrument rating would lift the limitations I had on flying in weather where visibility was bad to nonexistent, including flying at night.

When Cassidy landed and got out of the plane, I could tell by her swagger that she’d passed. As I walked out for my turn, I met her and gave her a high five.

“Anything I should worry about?” I asked her as the examiner exited the plane.

“No. Roy covered everything. You should be fine.”

“Mr. Dawson?” the examiner called.

I took a deep breath to calm my suddenly racing heart. I don’t know why I was nervous; after all, I was getting comfortable flying. When I got my IFR certification, I could pilot instead of charter shorter flights. Down the road, I could see getting my multi-engine certification and jet ratings for longer trips. Roy had shared with us that more jets were purchased by individual businessmen than commercial carriers.

If you traveled a lot, even with the security passes to get through TSA, you soon realized that flying private or charter was much less of a pain. When flying private, you generally were driven right to the plane, boarded, and were in the air within minutes. I think they recommended that you had to be at least an hour early if not more when you flew commercial.

The examiner was all business. I focused on her commands, answered her questions, and it was soon over, at least if you call a little over an hour ‘soon.’ After we came to a stop by the hangar, she finally smiled.

“Would it be okay to get a picture with you?” she asked. “My kids are both big fans, and they’ll be jealous when they see who I flew with today.”

“Did I pass?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then absolutely,” I said.

When we arrived at my house, we were met by a group of about fifty well-wishers waiting outside the gate, as well as the local affiliate with a TV truck. I recognized most of the people as neighbors, so I jumped out when Cassidy slowed down.

“David!” she snapped when I bailed.

I gave her a dismissive wave and waded into the crowd. They just wanted to get a chance to congratulate me and get their picture taken. I made the news crew wait while I quickly made my rounds, then gathered everyone behind me so they could all be in the shot for the nightly news. I suspected that some of them would DVR it so they could point and show that they’d gotten on TV.

When I came into the house, Cassidy was pointing at and telling on me to Fritz. He’d seen this before, so I was happy when he didn’t call me on the carpet in front of everyone. Fritz had tried that before, and I’d reacted badly. It was just the neighbors, for Pete’s sake.

I came in the back door and crouched down as I prepared for my hound, Duke, who by now was barreling at me. He was overly excited, with his tongue hanging out to slobber all over me.

“Hey, buddy. You miss me?” I asked as I wrapped my hands around his broad neck and rested my head on top of his.

Duke needed a bath. He smelled musty, like he’d been digging in the back yard again.

“Unca David!” Mac, Kyle, and Nate yelled all at once.

Duke knocked Mac down. I swear that Labs have no feeling in their tails. That thing was a weapon.

“Bad doggie,” Mac said, sitting on her butt with her hands on her hips.

I scooped her up and gave her a hug.

If people didn’t know I was home before, they did now. My house was full of family and friends. It looked like they’d gotten into my swag bag.

“You should have your portrait done with all the kids,” Grandma Dawson said, holding up the card for the artist to do my portrait.

Sitting in the middle of the table was my Oscar.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

“Lexi dropped it off while you were doing interviews,” Dad said.

“Enough grabbing stuff!” Mom announced. “Sort it all out. The small stuff like jewelry, perfume, skin care, crayons, and such can be divided. If I hear any fighting, I get it. The big-ticket items you have to ask David about.”

What the heck? This felt like Halloween when the adults sorted through the candy after the little ones had gone to bed. I glanced through the stack and grabbed the car rental card and handed it to Pam.

“Use this to get your car for school,” I told her.

That earned me a sweet kiss. Pam scampered off to give Tracy the good news.

While everyone gathered in the kitchen, I found my kids in the living room. The advantage to their being mobile was that all I had to do was sit on the floor, and they all came to me. Dawson needed some one-on-one daddy time, so I was holding him, talking softly, when Pam came to me with a sheepish expression.

“Did you even look at this?” she asked.

“It said you could rent a car for a year.”

“It’s for platinum-level rentals. The website’s list of cars at that level included Bentley, Mercedes, and Bugatti. You could lease a Mustang for multiple years for what this is worth.”

That, in a nutshell, told me everything I ever needed to know about Pam. Instead of taking the windfall, she was looking out for me. I knew that if it had been Greg’s wife, Angie, I would never have been the wiser until she showed up in a quarter-million-dollar car.

“Thanks, go pick something else out,” I said, taking the card.

“There’s nothing left.”

“You poor thing. I’ll just have to buy you a gift,” I said, playing along.

“Coby said he liked an outfit I saw at the mall, but my mom said it was too expensive.”

It sounded like she didn’t see anything in the swag bag she wanted, so she was trying a different tack.

“Our son does have good taste. If he liked it, then I say you go back and get it,” I suggested.

“You sure?”

She had a debit card that I’d given her. Its primary purpose was for anything the kids might need, but I made it clear that she could use it for personal items too. Megan kept me up to date on what Pam used her debit card for. She also kept me up to date on the ones I’d given my mom and dad, Peggy, Scarlet, Ashley, and Cindy. My dad never used his. Pam was a close second, so I didn’t begrudge her buying something for herself.

“Since you’re my favorite,” I assured her.

Pam would be sure to let the others know who the ‘favorite’ was.

Tuesday February 28
The alarm went off and sounded like a truck was backing up over my head. Going back and forth from LA in such a short period of time seemed to mess up my internal clock. I was stretched out, face down as I let out a moan of frustration. It felt frickin’ early.

I rubbed my eyes and then blinked them open. It was too bright, which meant I’d seriously overslept. That might explain why my alarm had to wake me up. I attempted to roll over so I could get out of bed, but couldn’t move. My legs were pinned to the bed as if someone had dumped a bag of concrete mix on them. I looked over my shoulder and spotted my hound, Duke, sound asleep, having a puppy dream. It must have been the one where he chased a squirrel because he was making soft growling noises, his front paw twitching as he ran in the dream.

“Duke, get off me.”

Having all that company last night must have worn the poor boy out because he didn’t stir. I lifted my legs up, which caused Duke to slide off of them. He slipped off the end of the bed bonelessly and then made an ‘oof’ sound as he landed on the floor, making me cringe. I put my feet on the floor and looked at my hound. Duke’s head came up, and he gave me the ‘what were you thinking?’ look.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said, as I hoisted myself up and smothered my face in my hands, trying to clear out the morning cobwebs.

I shuffled into the bathroom, and five minutes later came out with a towel wrapped around my waist. I took a moment to check myself out in the full-length mirror. Ever since the summer before high school when my uncle had used me as free child labor and my growth spurt hit, I’d been pleased with my appearance. Using a posthole digger had filled out my upper body and thighs. Over the last few years, I’d put on muscle and become more defined. The school’s trainer, Joey, had taken my development to a whole new level.

What I saw looking back at me showed that I’d matured. I had almost no body fat, and the muscles under my skin looked like corded steel. Joey’s efforts had caused me to lose weight, which would explain why my pants were getting loose in the waist. Despite being lighter, I hadn’t given up any of my strength. As a matter of fact, I was much stronger than I had been this time last year. Joey was helping me continue to improve, rather than level off in my development as we’d worried I might. All my measurables showed progress.

There wasn’t time to run today, so I wandered downstairs to get something to eat. Precious had waited for Duke. I let the two of them explore the backyard as I strolled into the house to the kitchen. Someone had made coffee, so I poured myself a cup. I inhaled the aroma, and it smelled like vanilla. That meant my mom had made the pot. I gulped a mouthful of steaming hot coffee, thinking about how it was exactly what I needed this morning. It was like liquid heaven and helped wake me up.

I was looking through the kitchen window at Precious stalking my hound when I heard someone come downstairs. I turned to find Peggy putting the boys into high chairs.

“You ready to face your first day back?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I imagine it’ll be nuts now that you won your award. All my friends have been after me to introduce you to them. I expect it will be the same at school,” Peggy said.

She knew how much I hated that kind of attention, but I was somewhat inured to it by now. I wasn’t worried about my friends or classmates so much as I was about what the crowds would be like for our first game tonight. We always started off the year playing Lang Academy.

I was looking forward to seeing Ray, Harper’s best friend, who went there and played on their team. It would be good to catch up.

The troubling part was that Lang Academy was where you got sent when your parents threatened you with military school. I was worried because the last couple of years during the Lang Academy games, there had been behavioral problems with both sexual harassment and fights. With a large crowd, the odds of a repeat performance on their part was high.

“It should be fine,” I said dismissively.

Peggy gave me a look that said I was a ‘stupid boy.’ I just hoped those weren’t my famous last words on the matter.

Manaia was quicker on the uptake than my previous security guys. Then again, he’d basically lived with me while I was in LA over Christmas break. He showed up at the house and ate breakfast. He even survived Cassidy cooking it.

As we got close to the school, it became clear we might have a problem. Out front, our local police force had set up barricades to keep the people and reporters back. Every car that entered the lot had to be stopped so the officers could verify they were supposed to be on school grounds. It was a frickin’ zoo.

“The safest way would be to drive around back. I’ll go in the front and open the door for him,” Cassidy suggested.

After we dropped Cassidy off, I directed him to where he could pull up, and I could get inside quickly. After we received a text that all was clear, Manaia walked me to the door and Cassidy let us in. Waiting inside was Vice Principal Palm.

“Are you part of David’s security team?” he asked Manaia.

“Yes.”

“Go park your car and then come to the office, please. I’d like to talk to you.”

“You might want to invite Fritz, too,” Cassidy suggested.

That was probably the right call. Vice Principal Palm told me that as soon as everyone was in the school, no one was allowed to leave. That was especially true for me. Not that I ever really left, but telling a teenager they couldn’t leave wasn’t the best way to get them to go along with your plans.

As I headed to my locker, I was stopped several times to receive congratulations and shit in equal proportions. It seemed my yelling, “Go Bulldogs!” was a big hit. After the initial flurry of attention, everything seemed to settle down.

As I dropped off my books at my locker, I could overhear the rehashing of the previous weekend’s conquests. My classmates swapped stories as if comparing video game scores, each seemingly trying to one-up the other with adventures of college parties, hooking up, and the usual adolescent boasts. It made me happy that everyone just accepted me and went back to their same old routines.

Joey let me know that I wasn’t anything special in her eyes, if the workout she put me through was any indication. Immediately after that, I was called to one of the team meeting rooms. There I met Vice Principal Palm, some suits from the district office, Fritz, and Manaia. Plus, there were people from every police force around: our local force, the county sheriff, and the state troopers. I guessed that they were all there for security reasons, but was surprised to see my grandmother also attending the meeting. She must be there to represent the city.

“Everybody take a seat. I’m Detective Christopher Kitchens.”

Detective Kitchens had been lead investigator when Pam’s dad and Thomas Fox had made up the rape charges. I owed him a debt of gratitude for not falling for their ploy. He had also gotten the goods on Brandon Rigby by collecting Brandon’s DNA from his trash.

“With David A. Dawson winning an Academy Award, we are expecting larger than normal crowds for tonight’s game. Last year, we had to move the games to State to accommodate the crowds. We’ve brought in more bleachers with the hope we can handle it. The reason you’re all here is so we can plan security and crowd control,” Detective Kitchens said.

“Why am I here?” I asked.

“Good question,” the detective acknowledged. “We wanted to make sure you didn’t put anything out on social media or other means that might compound our problem.”

“So, no Star Wars videos,” I said solemnly.

“David,” Grandma Dawson said.

Damn! Her ‘mom’ voice was every bit as scary as my own mother’s.

“The other reason you’re here is that Manaia is going to be with you all day,” Fritz said.

That put a smile on my face.

“You are so going to love going back to high school,” I predicted.

Manaia didn’t seem nearly as excited for the opportunity as he should be. Wasn’t going back to high school every adult’s secret dream?

Ah, well. Now that I’d been told to be good and been given a babysitter, I had to get to Calculus.

By lunchtime, people had taken notice that I had a big Samoan man following me around. His scowl at having to attend classes with me made him stand out even more. I was impressed that even Dare hadn’t bothered me all morning. Every time he seemed to want to say something to me, he would glance over at Manaia and think better of it.

So, when Lisa Felton came strolling up in that sexy way that she’d mastered, I was a little shocked.

“I have something very serious to ask you,” she said, then stared at me with wide eyes.

I stopped walking, and Manaia almost ran me over.

“Okay?”

She continued to stare at me, her eyes locked on mine.

“Do you think I should get bangs?”

My mind blanked out for a moment. I’m sure every guy has been faced with something like this. The classic was ‘does this dress make my butt look big?’ Laughter was probably not what she wanted to hear.

“I’m serious! It’s a big decision!”

“Picking what college to go to is a big decision. Deciding what you will major in is a big decision. Cutting your hair is not a big decision.”

“If anyone would understand, I would expect it to be you, Model Boy. It’s going to affect the whole framing of my face and, therefore, how people see me.”

That got a snort of amusement out of Manaia, which captured Lisa’s attention.

“Hi, I’m Lisa.”

“Manaia.”

“What do you think?”

“I hate to say this, but that kind of answer is above my pay grade,” Manaia, the wimp, said.

I was definitely stealing that line the next time I was asked something like this. Lisa turned back to me and gave me a look that said I was supposed to solve all her problems.

“Let’s get something to eat and give me a chance to think on it,” I reasonably suggested.

That earned me an eye roll, but she went along with it. If in doubt, either shut the hell up or delay.

All the guys were giving me dirty looks because all the girls wanted to talk about was whether or not they should get bangs done. Somehow, that was my fault. Lisa went from public enemy number one to the best girlfriend ever when she saw I’d had enough with hair talk. She reached down and squeezed my hand. That was when I realized that she’d set this up so I wouldn’t have to rehash the weekend’s events. I really didn’t blame her because I was sure the women from the weekend would come up and I didn’t want to shove that into her face.