“Forreal though,” Grey chimed in. “Where'd you go?”
Iled the way into the living room and dropped down into my recliner. “I gotlocked out of the place.”
Greysonsat down on the couch and pulled his sneakers off, before propping his feet uponto the coffee table. “You could've called,” he pointed out, grabbing a pillowand tucking it behind his head.
“Shit,”I slapped my forehead, “why the hell didn't I think of that?”
Zachsnorted as he emerged from the kitchen, with a glass of soda in hand. “Oh, isthat why I had a friendly voicemail from you?”
“Uh-huh.”I eyed him as he sat down beside Greyson.
“Mybad, man. And I'm sorry you missed the rest of the show. It was pretty fuckin'crazy.”
Greynodded. “Seriously. You should've seen this one—”
“Junior!You out there?”
“Yeah,Pops!” I called before muttering, “He knows I'm here. He was sitting rightthere when I came in.”
“Youwanna come in here a second? The clicker's not workin'!”
Layinga hand over my eyes, I shouted, “Are you using the Fire remote for the cablebox again?”
“What?!”
Ipulled in an agitated, deep breath and raised my voice. “Are you use—”
“Forthe love of God, Vincent! Can you just get your ass in here?!”
Witha groan, I stood up from my chair and hurried down the hall to Pops's room,finding him in front of his TV and cable box. In his hands, he held everyremote he owned, and his fingers continuously jabbed at random buttons whilecursing under his breath.
“Thisfuckin' thing ...”
“Pops,”I sighed, entering the room, “give 'em to me.”
“Ifyou'll just show me—”
“Ihave,” I interrupted, shooting him a knowing glare as I took the remotes fromhis wrinkled hands. “That old noggin of yours just can't retain the info.”
“Ah,”he spat, slashing a hand through the air. “Just put on my show, will ya?”
“Yougot it, old man.” I smiled, pressing buttons and passing through menus until Igot to the Netflix listing forBreaking Bad. “Damn, Pops. You're alreadyon the third season?”
“Whatcan I tell ya? It's a damn good show,” he said with a chuckle, climbing intobed. “Maybe I shoulda gotten into makin' meth instead of pizza. We woulda beena lot better off.”
“Yeah,”I snorted. “And you woulda been in prison.”
“Youdon't know that.”
Headingover to the bed and handing him the correct remote, I said, “Nah, I guess not.Here, pressthisbutton to play,thisone to stop, and whenyou're done, just leave it and I'll turn it off before I go to bed. Okay?”
Popstook the remote and laid it on the bed. Then, before I could leave, he took myhand in his and said, “You're a good boy, Vinnie. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,Pops. Sure.”
Hesqueezed my hand and released it, before taking the remote and pressing Play,and I took that as my cue to leave. But before I could close the door, hecaught my attention with an, “Oh, Junior! Wait a sec.”
Glancingtoward the bed, I asked, “What's up?”
