Celia

7 Jealous?

Gio

I spend the majority of the day in the garage, installing a pod-like material on the ground, which according to Chase is supposed to prevent humidity damage.

Sometime in the afternoon, I hear my truck, but don't come out. Celia is here until 5, which gives me enough time to fix the minor plumbing and lighting issues inside.

By the time I'm done, I'm covered in grease and dirt, smelling like an old pig's ass. My stomach is empty and my skull is cracking in half.

I mosey into the house to shower when I stumble upon a spa session in the living room.

The jerks have face masks on, their feet on the table with freshly pink pedicures. There are all kinds of snacks— grapes, brownies, pretzels, popcorn— with Vampire Diaries on.

"Oh, hey dad." Ari lifts her cat-eye glasses, hair in pigtail buns. "We are so exhausted after shopping, we need a break."

I scowl at Celia who's in la-la land with her eyes somewhere around my arms. I have to wave in front of her face to snap her out of it.

"Do I pay you to take a vacation?" I slowly ask.

"Part of a healthy childhood includes chilling with each... other." She trails off while I lift the bottom of my shirt and wipe my sweaty face.

"Whatever." I grumble and head for the shower, using Ari's shampoo and body wash as a passive aggressive revenge.

When I change into gray sweats and a white shirt, I swagger back and plop on the couch between Ari and Celia, squeezing them out of my way.

I grab the remote — ignoring the complaints about their crashed bones — and put on Ari's least favorite show in the world— The Office.

"No! Why! Why would you do that?" She stomps in front of the TV, clenching her tiny hands at Michael Scott. "He's so weird! He creeps me out!"

"Sorry, honey." I shrug, eating popcorn. "I am so exhausted after working, I need a break."

"It's okay, Ari. We'll make yummy pasta and not share." Celia smirks and Ari cackles, rubbing her hands like an evil chipmunk.

"It's okay, Ari. We'll make yummy pasta and not share," I mimic as the two leave me alone by myself. "Then I'll eat all your snacks!"

"Then enjoy my boogers in them!" Ari shouts, snickering and wrinkling her nose when I glare.

Caramelized garlic and onions shortly waft the air, watering my mouth. I lose ten pounds right there and then just from the smell.

I stretch my neck to find them engrossed in a dumb conversation which seems to change every two seconds.

"Why do you roll the basil like that before cutting?" Ari asks.

"So it doesn't smush, it's very delicate."

"Why do you have so many moles?"

"I was a tortilla in my past life, why do you have such curly hair?"

"Because I'm smart."

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"No, you're curly inside. You have a curly heart."

Grunting to myself, I get up to go to Ari's room, hoping to find a loose furniture to fix or a hole in the wall to patch, but find none. I spend the rest of the time, trying to understand their foreign language as they bond.

The next morning, I wake up with a green eyeshadow on, with matching toenails. Apparently Ari felt bad that I got jealous. The big mole on my cheek was Celia's genius idea.