Twenty

Whose Jersey Is Bigger

 

 

The smell of popcorn and French fries filtered through the air of Petit Soho. Disco lights, a kaleidoscope of ruby reds and sapphire blues chased each other across the polished mahogany bar, bouncing off the vintage photos plastered on the walls. 

 

The bar, which was usually a haven for the neighborhood locals seeking a friendly drink and live music, had been transformed into a fortress of teenage revelry, sealing off the outside world for Jesse’s birthday.

 

Three massive flat-screen TVs, typically reserved for sports, now glowed with pixelated athletes from the latest version of Madden Football, and the dizzying loops of Mario Kart. A chorus of triumphant shouts and frustrated groans erupted from the cluster of kids huddled around them.

 

Further back, on the small stage, a karaoke machine pulsed with multicolored light. Its screen flashed the lyrics to an early 2000s pop anthem as Stephanine, Romeo, and Desiree belted the chorus to an audience of one — Lily, who was slowly navigating the dance floor in a kiddie car shaped walker, courtesy of Max.

 

Just off the dining room, tucked away in a dimly lit alcove, the serious business of poker was underway. A trio of players — Tico, Max and John Sr. — sat hunched over cards and chips, their expressions all focus and no nonsense. 

 

Jon stood near the entrance, leaning against the cool metal of the vintage KISS pinball machine, a half-empty glass of wine in his hand. From here, he had the perfect vantage point to watch her in her element.

 

Ari and Jesse were locked in a no-holds-barred game of football, and judging by his son’s groans, she was winning — again.

 

He watched them, a warm glow spreading in his chest. She was a force of nature. Everything–the décor, the energy, the sheer fun of it all–had her fingerprints all over it.  Seeing the joy, she brought to Jesse and his friends? That hit him right in the feels.

 

Just a year ago, none of this had seemed possible. And yet, here they were. A real family. Imperfect, loud, chaotic… and absolutely his.

 

Ari whooped as the screen flashed Victory.

 

“Not again!” Jesse groaned, dropping his head back dramatically against the chairs. 

 

She grinned, breathless from laughing, and handed him the controller. “There’s always next time.”

 

As she stood and turned, she caught sight of Jon watching her. His laughing smile and shake of his head made her shrug as she made her way over to him.

 

“What’s so funny?” she asked, crossing her arms.

 

“You ever gonna let him win?”

 

“Nope.” she shot back with a grin.

 

He chuckled, then tilted his head, eyes sweeping the room before settling back on her. “You pulled this off.”

 

“We both did.”

 

Jon reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers. “Yeah, but it only works ’cause of you.”

 

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How much wine have you had?”

 

“Enough to wanna sneak upstairs for a quickie.” 

 

“Down boy,” she patted his cheek. “Your mother’s heading this way.”

 

Jon recoiled, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

“Ari, sweetheart,” Carol said, ignoring her son entirely, “you’ve been running around for hours. Come sit, eat something.”

 

Ari smiled, her shoulders relaxing as she caught Carol’s gaze. She knew better than to argue with her mother-in-law. “Yes, Carol.”

 

Carol shot Jon a look as she turned to lead Ari away. “And you—stop loitering like a lovesick teenager.”

 

Jon raised his glass in mock salute. “Yes, Ma.”

 

Ari accepted her mother-in-law’s arm without protest, more out of affection than necessity. Carol had a habit of fussing, and resisting only made her double down. Jon walked a few steps behind, clearly amused but wise enough not to say a word. 

 

As they reached the table, Carol stopped. “Ari, sit. I’ll fix you a plate.”

 

“You really don’t have to—”

 

“Sit,” Carol cut her off, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Tell me what you want.”

 

“Just two sliders and some fries, please. And thank you.”

 

Jon gestured toward the long table where Matt, Lema, Nicole and Cliff were in the middle of some heated conversation, laughter filling the air. 

 

“Come on,” he said, gently guiding her by the elbow. “Let’s go soak up some adult company.”

 

“Well, well, look who finally decided to join the party.” Matt teased, grinning like a cat who’d gotten into the cream.

 

Jon ignored his brother as he pulled out a chair next to Nicole for his wife.  “Ari couldn’t resist a little football competition with the teenagers.”

 

Ari rolled her eyes playfully. “Someone has to show them how it’s done.”

 

Matt’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of that,” he leaned forward, looking between her and Nicole, “When are you two going to get up there and reenact your legendary London performance?”

 

Nicole nearly choked on her drink, her face instantly going red. “Count me out.”

 

“Oh, come on, Nic! That was an epic night.”

 

Nicole shook her head. “More like a one-time, alcohol-fueled bad judgment.”

 

Lema, who’d sipping his drink with quiet amusement, let out a snort.  “I heard that story. Really sorry I missed it.”

 

Cliff, who usually stayed in the background, cracked a smile, clearly fighting back laugher.

 

Jon leaned back, a wicked grin on his face. “I was there and wouldn’t object to a repeat performance.”

 

Just then, Desiree and Stephanie, flushed with their karaoke triumph, approached the table. 

 

“What’s all this hushed giggling about?” Stephanine asked, looking between the group like she’d caught them gossiping.

 

“We’re discussing Ari and the Doc’s London karaoke debut.” Matt chimed in.

 

“Wait. Why haven’t I heard this story?” Desiree asked, pulling the empty chair next to her husband.

 

Nicole made a low moan that was barely audible above the buzz of the bar. “Not sure this is a story for polite company.”

 

“Oh, it’s a story for all company.” Lema countered.

 

Matt’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Gather ‘round folks. I’m about to tell you a tale,” he paused for dramatic effect. “It was last year, when we were in London for a month…”

 

Stephanie interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Hold up. I was in London too.” 

 

Jon patted Stephanie’s hand affectionately and continued. “This was before you kids got there. Your uncles and I were flying back after the show in Netherlands.” He grinned, glancing over at Cliff. “And he was in charge.”

 

Cliff, who had been quietly listening, held up his hands. “In my defense, it was only my third day.”

 

Matt laughed. “We warned you, didn’t we?”

 

“Alright, enough with the Cliff-bashing.” Ari cut in. “It was Nicole’s first time in London, and Cara and I wanted to show her the town.”

 

“Oh shit, I forgot about Cara.”  Matt said, throwing his head back for a hearty laugh at the all-new thread of unleashed memories.  

 

“Anyways,” Ari continued before her brother-in-law could go off on one of the embarrassing tangents that he enjoyed.  “We spent the day and evening hitting all the usual tourist spots.  Big Ben, the Eye, Tower Bridge, Abbey Road and that infamous roundabout from every movie ever made.”

 

“Ah, yes, Piccadilly Circus,” Nicole supplied with a crooked smirk. “Where the great cultural experience ended because someone couldn’t hold it anymore”.

 

“Hey,” Ari clapped back at her doctor-slash-friend in mock defensiveness. “I had to pee!  Can I help it if Waxy’s was the closest place open?  I don’t make the rules in that country.”

 

“And that,” Matt informed those who hadn’t been there on that memorable night, “is where the real fun began.”

 

He leaned forward to share the story with the dramatic eagerness of a gossiping teenage girl that had Jon’s eyes rolling. 

 

“We landed, and when I powered on my phone there was a text from Cliff saying, and I quote, ‘Your sister-in-law and her sidekicks are on stage at Waxy O’Connor’s singing like they own the place.’  Well, that was too good to pass up.  I had to see this shit in person, so we sent the band back to the hotel while I told this old man,” Matt’s thumb jerked in Jon’s direction with a grin that grew ever-wider.  “We’re making a detour.”   

 

“Don’t forget the hat,” Ari interjected, undoubtedly deciding if she was going to get roasted by little brother then Jon was going down with her.  

 

Matt laughed. “Oh right! Matt laughed.  “I made him wear his beat-up Elmer Fudd looking thing. Said we didn’t need to get mobbed by while crashing a bar at two a.m.”

 

 “Can you quit with the dramatics and just get to the point?” Jon groaned.

 

“Alright, alright,” Matt grinned. “By the time your father and I made it inside Lita Ford and The Runawayswannabees were up on stage, living out their rockstar fantasy.”

 

Nicole’s face flushed. “And, like I’ve said, LOTS of alcohol was involved.”

 

Ari waved her hand innocently. “Um. I was sober. Baby on board, remember?”

 

“What were you singing?” Stephanie asked, leaning forward.

 

Jon laughed. “Pat Benatar’s ‘Heartbreaker’. And I’m not talking a mellow karaoke moment–this was full-volume, a little off-key passion, complete with air guitar and dramatic finger pointing.”

 

Ari shot him a lover over her glass. “Mmm-hmm. And if my memory serves, you were drooling like a groupie.”

 

Desiree and Stephanie burst into peals of laughter, their faces red.

 

“Oh, my God! I wish I had been there!” Stephanie said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Although… watching Dad fangirl is already enough mental trauma for one lifetime.”

 

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Careful, kid. I still pay for your phone plan.”

 

Grinning, she shot back, “And I’ll use it to send that video to the entire family group chat–if I ever find it.”

 

Matt snorted. “Enough with the who’s Jersey is bigger contest.” He raised his glass. “To the London legends! May their voices grace the microphones again tonight.”

 

“Don’t count on it.” Nicole said firmly.

 

“Aw, c’mon Nic. Admit it, it was a fun night.”

 

Nicole took a dramatic sip of her drink before leaning back with a smirk. “I plead the fifth!”