Jimbo

"Do you need any help with your bags?" Mr. Parsons offered. I can tell he was just trying to be friendly, but was hoping I'd decline.

"I should be okay," I quickly responded, "I think."

"I can help," Josh offered.

"Thanks," Mr. Parson said, as he offered Rachel his arm, "Then come with me, Rachel. The wife and I will show you to your room."

I watched as Rachel walked away with our host, and then as they were both greeted by the hostess and started gabbing at the front door.

"Hey there," Josh said, as he followed me to the back of the car, and offered a hand. "I'm Josh."

"I heard," I answered as I shook his hand, "You can call me Jimbo."

"Oh," Josh said, "It's not Jim?"

"My friends call me Jimbo," I informed him, "And I have a feeling you'll be one of the only friends I'll have up here this weekend."

"You mean the only one whose lips won't be attached to Mr. Parson's arse?" Josh added.

"Exactly," I said, as I grabbed one of the suitcases and tossed it softly to him. "Doesn't he get enough of that sucking up at the office? When does he get a break?"

"He will this weekend," Josh said, "I'm not kissing anyone's ass. If anyone asks me too, I'll kick theirs instead."

"You see," I said, as I closed the trunk after pulled out the last of the luggage. "Friends. I just had a feeling."

"I know what you mean," Josh agreed, "What do you do, Jimbo?"

"I work in private security," I answered, "Contractor work. What about you?"

"I'm a writer," Josh answered, "Novels, comic books."

"Wait," I said, interrupting him. "You write comic books?"

"Yeah," Josh confirmed.

"That is so cool." I said, feeling even better about my new friend.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Parsons said as he returned to the car. "Is everything alright?"

"We're okay," Josh said, "Just doing some early bonding."

"Oh," Mr. Parsons said, even cracking a grin. "That's great to hear. What the hell..."

"What," I said as I turned around and my mouth suddenly gaped open.

"Who the fuck is that?" Josh asked with a shocked look on his face as well.

We all watched as the bright red car came rolling up the driveway, and parked into the driveway. Standing before us was one of the most expensive cars in the world, which left everyone speechless. It was at this point when the driver stepped out of the car.

"What?" Nicholas called out, "You guys never see a Ferrari 488 GTB before?"

"I haven't," Josh honestly answered, "It's beautiful."

"Jimbo!" Nicholas said, as he was surprised to see me. "It's so good to see you!"

Nicholas walked up and took me into his arms with a hug so quickly that I accidentally dropped the suitcase I was carrying.

"Hang on here," Mr. Parsons started, "Why is he calling you Jimbo?"

"It's a nickname." I answered, "It was given to me while in the corps. It's kind of stuck with me since."

"You were in the marines?" Mr. Parsons said, genuinely surprised.

"I did a few tours in the second gulf war," I answered, "It was a lot time ago."

"You served as well, didn't you sir?" Nicholas asked his boss.

"I did." Mr. Persons confirmed, "Desert storm. Let me help you there, Jimbo."

Mr. Parsons grabbed one of the bags I had dropped and he turned to look back at Nicholas.

"Nicholas," he started, "How do you know Jimbo?"

"I'm married to his cousin," Nicholas replied.

"Speaking of that," Mr. Parsons said as he remembered, "Where is you wife?"

"She's got a terrible flu," I said, speaking up as I could tell Nicholas wasn't expecting that question at that particular moment. "Diane doesn't get sick that often, but when she does that woman does not half ass it. She's been bed ridden most of the week."

"Oh," Mr. Parsons said, "I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

"As am I," Nicholas added, going with my story. "She sends her regrets and her apologies."

"Shit happens," Mr. Parsons said, as he grabbed another of my bags. "Josh, help Nicholas out with his luggage. Let's get all this stuff into the cabin."

Josh and Nicholas collected just two bags from the Ferrari, while Mr. Parsons and I both carried mostly Rachel's stuff up the stairs. I only had one bag, and it was the only bag I used for travel for the last fifteen years; my military bag. The same dull green bag every grunt uses to pack and unpack their trunks. It took the men only a few minutes to lug the stuff up the stair and to our designated rooms. After Mr. Parsons dropped off the bags he had, I closed the door behind me and dropped my bags to the floor. Rachel looked back at me as I sighed.

"We just got here, Jim." she informed me, "How are you going to get through the weekend if you're already sighing?"

"I'll be fine," I insisted, "This is more of a I need a nap sigh than it is a want to punch someone sigh. There's a big difference."

"How does Mr. Parsons seem today?" Rachel asked.

"He looks chilled," I replied, "Did you know he served in Desert Storm?"

She looked back at me. "No, I didn't. How did that come up?"

"Nicholas is here," I added, "And he called me Jimbo, which required a brief explanation. I kept it short on detail."

"Nicholas and Diane are here?" Rachel asked.

"Just Nicholas," I corrected her, "Diane is M.I.A. Sick with the flu apparently."

"Are you buying that?" Rachel asked.

"No reason not to." I said, aware that it was a bald faced lie.

Rachel was so entrenched in her own work, she didn't pay attention to her own family, much less what happened in mine. My family didn't keep secrets, which meant I knew everything. I just didn't tell Rachel cause she doesn't give a shit about anything but herself and her career. Maybe me a little bit, but not as much as I would prefer.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, as she could sense the tension.

"No, it's all good." I answered, trying to ease her own nerves. "I'm just going to go back outside, get a little fresh air."