I Love You Periodt

Chapter 1

Liam

“If it isn’t my dad, the chess fiend.” I come to a standstill next to the salt-and-pepper-haired sixty-year-old man seated at a concrete chess table at Sunset Park, set against a panoramic view of Las Vegas. Bright sunbeams from overhead stream through the palms overhead.

“And if it isn’t my preppy son.” He looks up and smiles only inasmuch as he can while still placing the pieces. White for him, black for me. That’s the tradition we’ve had since he first taught me at the ripe old age of seven years old. 

Once he’s done setting up, he looks at me fully. “Didn’t even have to see you to know that you’d be overdressed.”

On cue, I knot the loose sweater hung around my shoulders a bit tighter. 

“You have some nerve, old man, to say anything, when you’re over there in your loafers, khakis, and polo. Are you in Las Vegas or Connecticut?”

“At the Yale reunion, they all called me Vegas.” A mischievous smirk plays over his mouth. “So, apparently I’m fooling some of them.” 

“Well, not this guy.” Suddenly, I think to look down, realizing I haven’t seen Dad’s constant companion.

“Where’s Elvis?” 

Dad’s eyes soften at his beloved border collie’s name, and he points down under the table. “You think I’d go outside on a glorious day like this and not take him along?”

The dog is fast asleep by Dad's feet.

“You ready to get your ass beat?” I trash-talk with the best of them, taught by the man across me of course. He probably taught me that before he even taught me what the pieces were.

“We’ll see about that.” Dad makes the first move. King pawn, two spaces forward. Decent, but easy to counter. 

“So what’s going on? What’s new since I saw you last?” I ask as Dad eyes his pieces studiously.

He moves, then looks up. It’s the first thing to really take his focus off the game.

“I thought you might want to know of a little development that’s happening.” His green eyes flare mischievously.

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

“The usual suspects. Your sisters and my loving mother. Grandma Rose.” His chin leans against his fist as he studies the board waiting for me to play.

 I block one of his pawns with my bishop. “What now?”

I brace myself for the details of the new scheme. My twin baby sisters, Emma and Olivia, the gruesome twosome, will turn anything into a bet, and Grandma Rose is just as competitive. We all are, truthfully.

“Hmm.” He grunts at the board, engrossed, then looks up at me once he moves. “You’re gonna get a kick out of this. So, you know how Aunt Jo’s getting married in a few months to Beth?”

“Yeah, of course. Just got the save-the-date last week.”

“So, your sisters and Grandma Rose are taking bets on who you’ll take. They want to set you up. Whoever’s pick you go with wins the bet.” Dad is grinning, then breaks into a laugh.

“God, I can’t believe them. Can they get a life?” I shake my head. “What did you say to them?”

“I said I want in.” He laughs even louder.

“Dad, come on. Okay, so if you’re in on the action, why the hell are you telling me?”

“Because the pot’s getting big.” He looks at the board as I make a move. “And I think it’s about time we had a little fun with them.”

His hand crashes down, and he seizes the opportunity to take one of my knights.

“Way to kick a man when he’s down, Dad.”

“And show mercy? Never. Not with you, not with your sisters, not even my dear mother.”

“How about Mom?”

“She’s different.”

“And why’s that?” I ask, eyebrow cocked.

“Because I like my balls right where they are, thank you very much. Not between the blades of her sewing shears.”

“And I’d like my love life to stay behind closed doors where it belongs, not something for a bookie to take bets on.” My tone is rising, and I barely want to look at my dad.

“Aren’t you the consummate prankster? You’ve pulled so many tricks on your sisters over the year.”

“Yeah, but the whole point of a prank is to best someone else. Not to be bested. So, no, I don’t like it when the joke is on me. Especially not with my love life. And you’re cool with this?”

Our conversation wanes as our minds turn to the game before us. I’m certain I’ll win but the old man is a master at springing a last-minute game-winning move.

“And checkmate,” says my dad with a flourish. My king is down and it’s over for me.

I’m so ticked off that I’ve lost focus on the game and let him win. My fist punches the hard stone tab, a few pieces tumble, and I hear Elvis whimper back to life from under the table.

“Oops. The sore loser has woken up little Elvis.” He bends down to pet the sleepy dog. Then he pulls out a leash from his pocket and straps it to the collar around Elvis’s neck.

“You know I'm not a sore loser. But what I do want to do is to turn the tables on them.”

“I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind? Let's walk and talk.”

We stroll through the park beneath the shade of the boughs. Elvis trots as fast as the leash will let him.

“Let’s beat them at their own game,” I say. “You’re going to join the bet on my behalf, and I’ll pick whichever girl you choose.”

Dad chuckles. “I love this idea. They won't know what hit them. But I should mention that your mom will hate it and will probably try to stop me.”

“How come?”

“Because of what the doctor told me after our last family bet. Said I need to stop participating in pranks for the sake of my health, and you know your mother’s a stickler for the rules. Too much excitement for an old man, apparently.”

“I mean, this one’s a bit different since you already know that you’ll win it. There’s absolutely no risk to your health. I’m sure you can be firm with Mom one last time, for old-time’s sake.”

“You’re right.” He tugs at the leash, and Elvis runs back to us and sniffs at my feet.

I bend down to scratch beneath one of his floppy ears. “Do you have my back with this bet?”

The dog looks up at his owner as if for approval then barks at me when Dad nods.

“Since we have an agreement, I say let’s get some lunch. I’m famished.” I stand upright again.

“Moonlight Bistro?” asks Dad, referring to the popular bistro nearby we frequent even when chess isn’t involved. “I’m in the mood for some wraps and dessert.”

“Always a great choice.”

“Did you drive? Should we walk?”

I jingle the keys in my pocket. “I drove but the distance is too short, not worth fighting with traffic. We can walk.”

We head out of the park with pasta and cheesecake on my mind.

Once we’re on the sidewalk, he picks up the conversation again. “Your sisters are crazy invested in this from the little I heard. They were tossing names around like we were off to the races. They’ll be more than mad at us when they find out.”

“That’s their problem for making me out to be a pawn. I don’t even care if they lose their money, I’m backing your choice no matter what she’s like.”

“Speaking of which, any particular requests for the date I should pick?” He elbows my sides and winks slyly.

“Come on, Dad.” I elbow him back. “This is a prank, remember. Strictly to get back at the girls and Grandma Rose for trying to set me up. I don't really care. Actually, you should find someone completely random and completely not my type. Someone who’ll make them think they’ve won. That will really make them upset.”

Dad guffaws. “Much as I’d love to see the self-satisfied looks wiped off their faces, I don’t want to make it too obvious that we’re in cahoots. So, I’ll be as competitive as them and really find the best of the best.” 

“Don’t worry too much about it, though, Dad. Seriously. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I don’t have anyone yet, but I can’t promise to not go overboard either. Did I mention the money is going to charity? It’s not winner takes all.”

“So they were going to bet on me and not even let the money go to a charity of my choice? I don’t think so. I’ll give it some thought and pick a great one.”

We come near the bistro, and the smell of food floats through the air. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering what my siblings are willing to do for me to choose their options.

“How far do you think they’ll go to throw these women at me?” I ask as we sit down at the table.

“Oh, you’re about to have a target on your back, my boy. Women flung at you from all angles. Get ready and get set.”

He makes a good point, but now I’m even more set to ignore the rest and concentrate solely on whichever date my dad finds for me.

Over dinner, my dad and I strategize about how to find this girl and different attributes we should and shouldn’t look for. And we howl at some of the past pranks we’ve played, like filling Olivia’s car with stuffed plushies after she called Elvis a walking throw rug.

“I’m ready. Let the games begin.” I grin as he drops me off, feeling more confident that we can pull it off now that there’s a plan. This will be fun.