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Chapter 44: Return to Malibu
🕑 Added 2025-04-16 02:05:18 +0000 UTCThe familiar scent of salt and sun hit me the second we stepped off the plane and into the Malibu air. It wasn’t just the location—it was the feeling. That mix of ease and indulgence that only this place seemed to offer.
Charlie slid his sunglasses on and stretched like he had just returned from a spa, not a chaotic vacation filled with beach drama and unexpected hookups.
Instead of his usual convertible, a black SUV was parked by the curb. Alan stood next to it, arms crossed, looking mildly irritated.
“I rented something roomy,” Alan said as we approached. “Figured it’d be more comfortable for everyone.”
we come back with way more baggage, after all
Then he sighed and looked at the SUV with mild disappointment. “It was supposed to be a luxury van, but they gave me this instead. Said it was ‘an upgrade.’”
Charlie snorted. “Yeah, nothing says luxury like ‘last-minute substitute.’”
We all piled into the SUV (smaller than the one that we started the trip)—Alan was driving, Charlie riding shotgun, and the rest of us squeezed in the back. Mom claimed the window seat with a calm grace, while Gramma made a point of loudly adjusting the air conditioning and critiquing the car's interior.
I sat between them, trying not to laugh at Evelyn muttering, "This is what they call an upgrade? In my day, upgrades came with leather and legroom."
A few minutes into the drive, I looked up at the two of them and said, “I need to say, the vacation went unexpectedly well… besides the rain.”
Charlie turned halfway in his seat and gave me a look. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
———
A few days later, life had settled into a relaxed rhythm again. I spent the mornings reading, afternoons by the beach, and nights flipping through good movies.
Alan, surprisingly, was doing the same—relaxing. For once, he seemed less stressed, actually enjoying the time off. No patient calls, no lectures about responsibility. Just silence, books, and iced tea.
Until the house phone rang.
He was on the deck, reclined under a striped umbrella with a thick paperback in hand when the ringtone broke the peace. He sighed, got up to answer it, and instantly sat up a little straighter as he recognized the voice on the other end.
“Hi, Mom,” he answered, voice tight.
From across the room, Charlie and I exchanged a look.
Gramma Evelyn was calling. And that never meant anything quiet or boring was about to happen.
Alan covered the receiver with his hand and looked at us with wide eyes. “Mom said she’s been seeing a man… and she thinks he might be ‘the one.’”
Charlie, already holding a beer, raised it in mock celebration. “Fifth time’s the charm.”
"Four," came a voice from the phone.
I leaned toward Uncle Charlie and whispered, "How the hell does she hear that?" while watching my dad still covering the receiver.
Alan, flustered, tried to shift the conversation. “But… what about the guy…”
Before he could finish, Evelyn spoke again.
Alan sighed, covered the receiver tighter, and turned to us. “One was annulled.”
Charlie grinned and leaned in with a smirk. “Ask her if we’re getting a new daddy.”
Alan gave him a dry look, then relayed the message with reluctant sarcasm. “Mom… Charlie wants to know if we’re getting a new dad.”
There was a beat of silence, and then—loud and clear—came Evelyn’s voice through the phone:
“Bite me, Charlie.”
Alan cleared his throat and brought the receiver back to his ear. After a few seconds, he turned to us again with that same tight expression.
“She wants us to have dinner at her place,” he said flatly. “To meet him.”
He paused, then added with a touch of resignation, “Tomorrow night. 7 p.m.”
Then he lowered his voice slightly and quoted her with a dramatic flair, “'But I will certainly understand if you are too busy for your mother.'”
I scoffed. "Well, glad she understands." Then I raised an eyebrow, looking at both Alan and Charlie. "But she said for your mother."
Alan shot me an unamused glance. "You're coming too, Jake."
He returned to the paperback, read for a moment, then stopped and said, “Maybe that’s why Mom was always on the phone during the trip.”
I blinked. “Gramma was always on the phone?” I looked over at Charlie, who looked just as confused.
“I don’t know either,” Charlie muttered, taking a sip of his beer.
Alan gave the two of us a long, incredulous stare—his expression slowly shifting into something between disbelief and mild indignation. You could practically hear the internal sigh building up.
“Seriously?” his face said, even if his mouth didn’t.
———
The following night arrived faster than any of us were ready for. By six-thirty, we were already packed into the convertible, dressed in our 'try not to scare the new guy' outfits.
Charlie wore a collared shirt—unbuttoned just enough to remind everyone he was still Charlie. Alan looked like he was heading to a medical conference, stiff and over-ironed. I kept it simple: dark jeans, clean sneakers, and a button-up shirt Rachel had once complimented.
“Everyone try to behave,” Alan muttered as we pulled up to Gramma Evelyn’s house.
Charlie leaned toward me with a smirk. “Ten bucks says the guy’s got a ponytail.”
I laughed. “Twenty if he does yoga.”
Dad rolled his eyes from the front seat. “Can we at least get through the appetizer before you two start placing bets?”
Alan pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. We all sat there for a second, staring at the familiar house that suddenly felt like unfamiliar territory.
“Alright,” Alan said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”
Charlie opened the door and stepped out, straightening his shirt. “Operation: Charm the Stepfather begins now.”
I followed behind them, trying not to laugh as we walked up to the door.
