The Life Of Gamemaker Z

March 12th age 10

Zoey looks at me sideways, then smiles. Dad's home. He's very busy, but he's always there when we need him. Part of why I love our father Max. It's the shared birthday of our sister and I, March 12th. And he is home. 

He walks up to our door and opens it. We're already there waiting for him, and we wrap our arms around his big fat body and he kneels down to be at our height and says, with a twinkle in his eyes, "I assume this means you miss me." 

"Of course!" Zoey says. 

"Absolutely!" I say. 

"Oh," Max stands up, releases from our grasp, and walks into the kitchen, "I thought you were trying to strangle me."

"No," Zoey says, "If we were trying to strangle you...push on your throat with your fist."

"Why?" My dad seems concerned. 

"Just do it." Zoey says this lightly, so this convinces him there's nothing wrong.

He does so. 

"And tell me which part hurts." Zoey smiles.

Max looks at her, but slowly says, "The very front part."

"If I wanted to strangle you, I would've just put pressure on that part that way it would require less work to kill you." Zoey smiles even wider, a grin, then goes to join our mother Daria in the kitchen. She's preparing the cake. She's a graphic designer, so it has to look interesting. 

Max looks at me once she leaves the room. "Have you and mommy been taking her to therapy?"

"Zoey said she's fine, and I'm not one to judge, or investigate. It's her private life."

"Did you not just hear that?" Max scratches his head. He looks baffled. And worried. 

"I get it. She's just strange like that." I say. She seems fine. 

"I've seen strange, darling...I'm scared for her."

"Well I'm not." Max sees my adamance as a cue for a subject.

"Guess what my boss said," Max smiles at me, "I get to stay for a few days this time."

I hug him, tightly, and we go into the kitchen to look at the cake.

The President changes month to month now, the tension is still high, it's very hectic, but we're all okay.        

At least, I think so.