Cheating Gods of Death (Sequel to L: Find A GirLfriend)

Last Christmas

And soon it was the holiday break.

After two weeks of Virginian slush stuck at home with Dad, the house had been decorated and decked. Mom had resumed a blissful pattern of baking cookies, wrapping gifts, and staring at the tree. She was as happy as she could be. Father followed her around like a ghost, but an overall satisfied ghost. He became strong enough to take care of himself and push himself all around the halls, as well as dent the hoard of cases that had collected at his desk, which had gathered a thick layer of dust. Erica skipped around like a fairy, re-doing her lists and wrapping the presents she had bought.

I was the only one who lacked this mutual joy.

I went out in the evenings and bought presents, had them wrapped. It was easy. Erica was the easiest; Mom and I split her Christmas list, and I got her slippers, slipper socks, and crazy nail polish. Mom had mentioned her nostalgia for "Beavis and Butthead" and "Daria", so she has boxed sets (however, she does not have a netflix). Now, Father was hard. I settled on fancy-shmancy coffee. It was that or MORE sweets, which wouldn't have settled with me. I didn't want him to fall into a diabetic coma.

In all honesty, it felt horrible to be so bitter. I wanted to enjoy Mom swishing around in her hostess apron belting "Last Christmas" by Wham!, and I wanted to lay on the lawn with Erica and look at the Christmas lights Mom and I had put up. But all I could think of was... not my dad, I can tell you that now, but it was Audrey. She was dating some guy from the nearby city, Lynchburg, who was a college freshman at Liberty University. He played hockey and took her out skating... Even in jeggings and her ugliest sweater, she was all I wanted. Or someone. I wanted SOMEONE.

One the twenty first, a man with the lightest platinum blonde hair you've seen came over for dinner. He wore white chinos and a dress shirt, untucked. He was shorter and stockier than Father and I, but his eyes still held that omnipotent look my father's did. And he sat on the floor or in a dining char and spoke to Father until it was late, and even then he stayed the night. The weatherman was calling for black ice, and it was the wee hours of the morning, Mom wouldn't let him leave.

While he was there, he did speak to me.

"So... You're their son?"

It was after dinner, in front of that glorious fir tree.

"Yes."

"... Are you sure?"

"... Yes..."

"Hm, may as well, you do carry resemblance for the both of them..."

"Thank you?"

He was awkward. More awkward than Dad, but chattier.

"No, it's not a good thing... It's quite disturbing..."

"How so?"

Damn, was I brave that day.

"It's very odd, you see, your father had not possessed much interest in women until your mother came around, and I had started to suspect foul play, but it appears I may have been wrong."

"..."

"You see, the activities required to produce offspring are very specific and deliberate, and I do not believe L would be one to drink and then attain a desire for the pleasures of the flesh."

"Good?"

"It all depends on how you see it. It WOULD be good for you, you exist. But, for his line of work, it may have a negative effect. That is my only concern."

And he took a sip of his glass of milk, adding the signature to his letter. However bitter, he did have a point. Maybe it was distracting. As it would turn out, that was a man who referred to himself as Near, and was the one to finish that case that my father had "died" in the midst of. He was a successor to him.