Saturday, November 25
(Scout)
I return from my morning run to find Gustov and Paxton sitting on the sofa in front of a blaring TV in the living room. They're watching a soccer game. The commentators have heavy British accents. The whole scene is odd given the volume of the TV and the fact that I don't think either Paxton or Gustov are soccer fans. But the strangest thing is that there's an elderly woman sitting in an armchair that's been moved to a few feet in front of the TV. Her hair is an unnatural shade of pale lavender that shines in the sunlight coming through the window, making it look like it's slightly metallic. She's as absorbed in the game as I've ever seen anyone watching a sporting event. She alternates between a play-by-play of the action in a voice that mimics the British accent on TV, to cursing the players loudly in a gritty southern drawl, to whooping and cheering when something's apparently gone the way she wants it to. I know I'm tired after my run, but this woman is wearing me out just watching her. Still, even though I really need a shower, I walk up to the back of the sofa to get a better look. Paxton catches me out of the corner of his eye. "Morning, Scout," he says as if this is all perfectly normal.
"Morning."
Gustov turns around. Spare Ribs is curled up in his lap sleeping, although I don't know how, considering all the noise.
I nod my head toward the old woman, wordlessly asking what's up. Not that it's any of my business, I suppose, but I'm curious.
He smiles. "That's Mrs. Randolph. She's Francine's mom, from next door. She wanted to watch soccer, I mean 'football'," he says quietly, wrapping the word in air quotes when he says it. "Francine doesn't have cable. She's been jonesing for it. I guess Arsenal's her team. She loves some dude named Olivier. He scored a goal earlier and she went apeshit. She's fucking mint."
Paxton is nodding in agreement with a huge smile on his face. He's enamored with this woman.
When I look back in her direction she's still living in the game like she's in the stadium. She's wearing a Giroud jersey with the number twelve on the back, and she's leaned forward in her seat slightly.
"Sit down, Scout. You've gotta watch this with us. It only started fifteen minutes ago." Paxton is patting the sofa cushion next to him.
I don't normally watch sports, but this is about more than the game. This is a spectacle that I feel like I can't turn down. "I'm going to shower; I'll be back in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later I'm sitting in clean clothes, with wet hair, on the sofa next to Paxton. Spare Ribs woke as I walked in the room and stretched in Gustov's lap before walking over and curling up in mine.
Gustov shakes his head when the cat is comfortable. "I should've named her Benedict Arnold."
At halftime, Mrs. Randolph mutes the volume. "I can't listen to their nonsense. My boys are playin' good. They'll just say they're gonna blow it in the second half." She's talking to herself until she turns around. When her eyes meet mine, she squints. And then she stands and holds onto the back of her chair. Gustov immediately stands and offers his hand. She takes it and walks over until she's standing directly in front of me. She looks sharply at Gustov. "Where's your manners, boy? You gonna introduce me to this lovely young lady?"
My cheeks blush.
Gustov grins. "Mrs. Randolph, this is Scout MacKenzie. She's Paxton's cousin. She lives here with us." He's never said my name before. I love the way he says my name.
I offer my hand. "Hi, Mrs. Randolph. It's nice to meet you." Her hand is cool, but her grip is firm.
"I see you out runnin' every mornin'."
I nod. "I try."
"And I see you leave with Audrey every mornin'."
I nod again. "I work for Audrey. I'm her assistant. We carpool."
"Do you like it? Workin' for her." She's relentless with the questions.
Again I'm nodding. She's grilling me, but she's not overbearing and I find myself oddly wanting her approval. "I do. I love it. I just got my degree this spring; this is my first real job. I'm learning a lot."
She finally stops the questioning when she looks satisfied somehow with my answers. "That's the secret. You find what you love and you go for it. Life ain't about coasting. It's about pushin' the damn gas pedal all the way to the floor. Same goes for fun and love, no coasting. Pedal to the floor." She looks up at Gustov, still holding her left hand to steady her. "I'm ready to sit back down." He walks her back to her chair and helps her get seated. She looks up at him when she's comfortable and smiles. "You're a good boy."
He grins. "Thanks Mrs. R."
"And she's a good girl," she adds with a wink before unmuting the TV and giving her full attention to the booming game in front of her.