Chapter 8
I just love my warm morning shower. Don't you? More so when
it is actually warm!
"Heather! Did you pay the damn gas bill?!?" I yelled from the bathroom of which I was taking a freezing cold shower.
"Uhhhhhh," I heard her say.
"I'm going to kill you when I get out of
here!"
"No you won't, 'cause I won't be here. Bye, love you!" After this was said I heard the door slam shut.
Good grief! Do I have to do everything?!?! I put the towel around myself and went into the kitchen where Howie was making a gourmet breakfast.
Ha! Not really. Gourmet for Howie was two things....milk....and cereal.
"Morning," I said, kissing him on the cheek.
"Morning, beautiful," he replied putting two bowls on the table.
"So, isn't your momma going to be worried about you? As you know, you didn't come home last night," I joked, knowing fully well she wouldn't. Howie's mom is a drug addict and quite the partier. She probably didn't come home last night either. I don't blame her for the way she is, if you met who she's married to, neither would you. That woman's a saint!
"I'm a twenty year old man, Katarina. My mamma doesn't care what I do."
"Well that makes one of us," I said with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, well, that's the way some parents are."
"Yup," I agreed plopping myself on a chair.
"So, going into work today?" he asked, in a bored tone taking a seat across from me.
"Reluctantly, yes."
"Did you like working for him?"
"Yes and no. I like the money he pays me," I answered with a shrug. "I just don't particularly like him."
"Why?"
"He's an ass," I explained, take a huge bite of my cereal. Howie did the same.
"Oh. Yeah, well, you could always come and work for me and my dad."
"I don't like your dad either. He's a nasty, perverted, old fart, who would like nothing more than to get into my pants." I shivered with disgust with that thought.
"Valentine is a pervert too," Howie pointed out.
"Yes, but at least Val is a young good looking one."
"And that makes it okay?"
"No, just a little more bearable. Plus, Val hasn't tried anything, yet. As opposed to your father."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I hate my father, he is such a creep," he said looking down at his cereal that was getting soggy from him not eating it fast enough, with an angry expression. "You know, all my past breakups, with the exception of Heather, were because of him."
I looked up from my cereal I was pigging out on and looked at him with confusion. "Why?" I asked.
He shrugged. "He would make them bogus promises. Like,' I'll leave my wife for you,' 'you need to go out with a real man, with money. My son is a prick, he doesn't deserve you. He won't be able to treat you like I will. I'll buy you anything, anything, you desire.' The creep has a PHD in seducing women. Always knows what to say. The bitches fall for it every time."
