THE TALL AND SHORT PROBLEMS OF A CUTE GAMER GIRL
[4]
Just as her eyelids were about to settle, her favorite They Might Be Giants ringtone piped through her cell phone. Shoot! Giselle checked the screen and saw it was one of their friends from down in Florida who used to live in the area. Usually, he texted rather than called. And she really didn’t want to leave him hanging on voicemail. He was an awesome pal who had helped them move several times from their very first tiny apartment as newlyweds, then back closer to home, their very first house rental, and now what they hoped was their permanent location.
It wasn’t worth finding somewhere to pull over so Rachel could answer it. She could try syncing it with the app on the dashboard and talk through car speakers, but they would still have to find a way to explain why some random girl was answering Jeremy‘s cell phone. Giselle felt like this was becoming a pyramid of omissions, half-truths, and oncoming outright lies. Rachel‘s whimsical approach of flippantly admitting what was happening and then playing it off wasn’t gonna work forever. The phone still needed answering though. She touched the button.
“Yellllowww. It’s ya boi. Guess what I got?” Giselle sucked in all the air around her and tried not to make a noise. She rocked her head towards Rachel, trying to convey nonverbally what she wanted her to do. Rachel kept her eyes on the road. Good but still. Giselle grimaced hard and made a nervous gesture that felt like it was out of Seinfeld (a classic which Jeremy HAD watched extensively).
Casually, Rachel commented, “Hey there, Ethan. What’s up?”
“Chel! What’s the good word? How y’all doing? Is Jere available? If not, can you pass along a message to him? Not that I’m not ecstatic to hear from you, girl.”
The car slowed to a stop at the light as Chel brushed her hair back. “It’s been an interesting time lately. We did some home redecorating. It helped with a few issues but introduced some new ones that we’re currently dealing with. Jeremy isn’t here right now… in the flesh but you know he’s always here in spirit. But I know he wanted me to answer your call for him.”
Somehow, Rachel resisted grinning while Giselle gave her a look. Out of all of that, Ethan fortunately picked up that they couldn’t talk long but he urged her to text or Twitter DM the details. His main message was that he managed to track down an original arcade DDR metal dance mat and handlebar attachment for half the regular asking price and added, “Y’all just come on down and I will literally hand it to you.”
The excitement in Giselle‘s blazing gamer heart overcame any reticence, as she replied eagerly, “That sounds amazing! Thank you!” The moment she processed her tiny, soft soprano voice bursting out excitedly though, she planted a hand against her forehead.
“Well, hello there. Is this Miss Giselle from earlier?” Oh, Ethan must’ve been in the chat. She hadn’t really paid attention. Well, that was a lot of stress for nothing.
She did her best to shape her voice into a sound closer to one of her goofy skit characters. It sounded more like the blond Powerpuff Girl. She stopped bothering. “Yeah. You should be able to shoot Jere a text but that sounds really cool and…will tell him.” Giselle hung on the ambiguity of “will” versus “we’ll”.
“Thank you very much. Keep cool out there. Byeeeee!”
Giselle barely noticed how badly she was sweating from nerves into the brand-new clothes until the call ended. They would have to be washed anyway, they were kinda itchy. Rachel tried to reassure her that it all worked out and they were going to get the dance pad Jeremy wanted so bad. Giselle just leaned over to catch more of the AC.
It batted at her hair and swung it over into her face. Giselle as Jeremy had a few hair ties from around 2020, when the barber shops were closed, but those were all at home and probably in some strange dusty corner. Rachel told her to look in her purse when she asked about something to keep her hair. Giselle squinted at a blue scrunchy and used it to wrestle back some of the massive hair she’d been trying to ignore all day. It helped.
Setting her phone down in the charging slot on the dash next to Rachel’s, Giselle sighed and rubbed her eyes. She still wanted to rest, but now her mind was a little too full. After some quiet reflection, she spoke.
“I wish this was somehow useful. I mean, I hope I’m learning stuff. I’m doing my best. I’m so sorry for every single time I made light of the toilet seat. It sucks falling in, each and every time. I love you and every way you might be hurt because of me breaks my heart.”
Rachel glanced over. “You already apologized last night and you already apologize every single time anyway. I’m not mad. I appreciate that you understand, but I’ll always forgive you. And I know you would do whatever can for me and I will always do whatever I can and whatever you need. Also, we can and should… get a normal toilet seat and I should return this weird one.”
Giselle made a thoughtful sound. “Well, we don’t necessarily have to do that. You told me it was 70% off MSRP. I’m willing to put up with some quirks for that. And, despite being cursed, it’s pretty dang good. But maybe it would be a good idea to switch the seat with the one on the far end of the house, as a temporary thing. Just so I don’t get quadruple whammied.” They both eagerly agreed to that.
A stretch of quiet passed until Giselle took a deep breath and remarked, “If me being like this helped you with everything you’ve been through, even if I had to feel everything you felt, then you could gladly dunk me however many times you need. Happily. So long as your pain stopped.”
Rachel felt her eyes tear up, but she quickly wiped them away so it didn’t impair her driving, even though lane assist would’ve told her if something was wrong. She felt like a…rear end. Jeremy was amazing. And all she’d done was fixate on this and treat him so poorly. Now she was probably being too rough on herself, but hearing him say he would take on her endo agony made her heart flutter with awe.
Twelve years of wondering what was wrong with her when her regular doctor said she was fine. Too many long nights screaming against the wall. Endless moments where if she wanted to be playful and silly, she just couldn’t bring herself above a hollow state of gray charged with suffering. She finally pushed through the bullshit with Jeremy as her advocate and an actually decent doctor, whose entire bill they were responsible for on their own. Jeremy worked so hard, he pushed himself with every partnership and every stream doing his best to make sure that they had the money for that and for so many other things.
When they stopped at the next flight, Rachel resolved, “No. Less pain for everyone is better. No one should have to feel that or do penitence or any kind of bullshit for it. I hope the rest of this week is something we can share pleasantly and you look back on with a smile. But I would never wish suffering on you. I’m so sorry. I love you…”
It was awkward being belted in and with their always contrasting heights, but they managed to share a quick kiss before the light turned green again.
With that resolution, Giselle finally felt at ease enough to lay back and rest her eyes and her thoughts. Dreaming came quickly, like the one time she was asleep for a second and found herself on a toboggan barreling out of control down a snowy cliff until the landing jolted her awake immediately. But this one wasn’t a jolt, it was a dip.
She was by the pool on the far end with her mother floating and gesturing for her to get into the water. “You can float, sweetie. You’re a big girl. Just kick your feet when you get in.” Looking down at the water despite the buffeting ripples, the sun brightly showed her standing on the lip. It wasn’t the little boy she should’ve been. It was a little girl with fair, bright curls tied into matching pigtails. She had on a lime-green, one-piece swimsuit and her chubby legs wiggled in place as her little toes gripped the edge. When she hesitantly hopped into the water with a squeal, Giselle found herself waking up in confusion.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
She ran back through the scene. That early life encounter with a pool did have a place in some of her oldest memories. But she didn’t appreciate her unconscious editing them like that. Rachel noticed the way Giselle jerked up and inquired, “You okay?”
Clearing her throat, she answered, “Just my brain not giving me a break from this thing either. Silly dreams.” Rachel leaned with curiosity, but Giselle swiftly explained it was just a dream about swimming practice where she was a little girl. Rachel thought that sounded cute, but she didn’t press the issue.
Even though Giselle tried to sneak in another little nap, it wasn’t too long before they arrived back home. At this time in the day, fortunately, they couldn’t see any lookie-loo neighbors. They still went through the way to the laundry room. Rachel dropped off the new clothes to be washed with the tags removed while Giselle brought in the UPS supplies. They were slightly too heavy for her, but she didn’t complain.
Once all the immediate chores were squared away, Giselle leaned back towards the master bedroom and considered what tools she might need to swap the seats. However, their kitty, Herschel, jumped up in her lap and made himself comfortable. Therefore, by all the rules of cat owners, it was resolved that she wouldn’t be moving for a while or until Herschel was satiated.
The kitty moved about curiously, sniffing and probing. Earlier, he didn’t really react to the change in events, focusing mostly on food and his spot near the window. Now, it seemed he was assessing lap status. This lap had once included a man’s immense legs. But it was a smaller model now.
However, they were very full and soft and kind of squishy. His kitty brain was doing all the advanced calculations required to determine if this was worthy of meowing complaints or tolerable. He didn’t really seem to come to a decision but he curled up and slept anyway and Giselle obediently pet him and stroked his back.
For a modest snack before they started their next work session, Rachel pulled some popsicles out of the freezer. Giselle accepted the plain red one and methodically sucked on it. Rachel nibbled a blue one slowly. She knew that her husband was often voracious with his food, but if the loaded salad earlier was him being reserved in public, then this was his usual nature but translated entirely differently.
Giselle put the popsicle in deep and twisted it around before giving herself a break and going back at it. Rachel focused on her own popsicle as she considered the fact that context changed everything. Sure, Jeremy‘s deft tongue was something she deeply appreciated, as well as his energy. But it was beguiling that such a change altered so many perceptions. Maybe she had a few dirty thoughts coloring things, but nowhere near as many as her college roommates did.
After she was done, Giselle was still trapped underneath kitty. Herschel had moved up with his head against her chest. He discovered that his altered owner had some new soft pots he could rest his head against. Rachel didn’t say anything, but she smirked as she got up and got to work looking over the instructions and included installation materials for the seat.
It wasn’t terribly complex. Unscrew the thing, clean the area. Included putty for cleaning the kind of opening depending on dirt, deterioration, and broken pieces. Her dad taught her and her siblings everything about plumbing before she went to high school. It saved a lot of trouble in college when things started to break.
The position was painfully awkward when she installed it though and her legs were not happy about a second session of this. They throbbed.
Reaching back to unscrew the nut and washer should have been easy and then plastic covers would just come loose and she could put the other one on. But it was like those parts were situated on a specially-threaded screw that just looped back up. That was impossible.
Getting a close look with her phone light, Rachel squinted and tried to see what was catching. Nothing seemed to be wrong. The screw and the whole assembly should’ve come loose with enough turns, but it just wasn’t gaining any traction. Wiping some sweat out of her hair, she experimented with the other one and found the same result.
Puzzling quietly, she leafed through the instructions and checked all the things she read before. Installation instructions. Equipment and tools required. Initial operation. Removal…oh? She hadn’t really looked through that initially because it didn’t seem like this would be something that needed to be removed so soon. Reading through, she scrunched up her eyes and grimaced.
The seat had a pairing module for authentication. When deactivated for removal, that shut down everything and the grip and stability and extra features stopped. So, where was it? She poked around all the boxes that arrived. The module was small but apparently needed to be combined with the display which earlier showed Giselle how many infractions she had.
How that part worked, since she hadn’t put in any batteries, was not something she really thought about. They basically figured there was some kind of magic going on for what it did. Apparently, it also had a bunch of technical components. Fervent searching didn’t turn up any new parts. According to the instructions, this meant the seat was actually stuck in its current mode. No removal. No nothing. Apparently, this is some kind of safety measure, according to what she was reading, related to vandalism and other angry assaults.
It was a pain, but the only thing she could think to do was send an email of concern to the website saying that she didn’t receive one of the parts and needed it. Meanwhile, that seemed to suggest they would just have to deal with the seat as it was. She could tell Giselle wouldn’t be happy.
But she didn’t have to tell her, not yet. Looking into the living room, she saw that her petite husband/wife had snuggled up with Herschel and the little dickens accepted the embrace as he snoozed too. Grabbing another popsicle and just biting hard, almost ferociously, into it, Rachel stood by the counter and resisted an ice cream headache.
Popping over to her studio for a while, she set her current plush aside and did a little editing on the creation video. Giselle would be annoyed that she let her sleep, but Rachel could tell she absolutely needed it. She just hoped against all hopes that the dreams she received this time were just the kind she wanted. She checked Instagram on her phone and considered setting up some sort of teaser but no inspiration struck.
Instead, she received some text message dings. They were from Giselle‘s… well, Jeremy’s mom. It read, “on way back frm work. You girls want cheesecake? Making minestrone tonite. Stp by if you can.”
You girls? She must’ve missed Giselle… Jeremy‘s parents in the audience at the earlier stream. And they probably wanted to meet this strange girl. That might be kind of trippy. Although Rachel suspected that no way was Jeremy having it. She tapped her nails on her work desk a few times before figuring out a reply.
“Should Giselle and Jeremy both come?”
She had a nervous suspicion, but she didn’t even want to let it have a single thought, lest her anxiety wrap its tendrils around it. The answer didn’t take long.
“Hun, you bring any folk you want. No worries. Id love to meet Jeremy. Where do I know him frm?”
Rachel almost dropped her phone like a hot potato, but it was too expensive for that. She tented her hands in front of her nose. In her head, she screamed to herself, “HE’S YOUR SON! YOUR ONLY CHILD!”
She wrote back, “You can blame autocorrect. Meant dale. Weird mistake. It’ll just be us. Chel and Giselle (oh God… She just realized they rhymed).”
Her mother-in-law wrote back kisses and hearts with party streamers along with a few superfluous emojis. Rachel leaned back in her chair. Like her husband/wife, she rarely cursed. The other night got her dang close.
But, rubbing a sore spot on her temple, ever so faintly, she muttered, “What. The. FFUU…”