An hour and a half later, Jodie pulled up to the house, and she practically tore the car door off of its hinges to get to Mitch and drag him into a hug. Their reunion was far more emotional than anticipated, and Mitch swore up and down that she wasn’t the cause of why he needed to escape. Regardless, she continued to blame herself; in an appeasement bid, she promised to figure out how he could have his own room at the house.
“Maybe we could convert the dining room? I barely even use it,” she offered. “The attic’s still gotta get finished, I’m gonna get to it this year. You could have that once it’s done.”
“Jodie, I don’t need any of that,” he tried to assure her, although having his own place to sleep would be nice. But they could sort that out later.
Roland made his presence known once the blubbering died down, and he embraced Jodie. After the two of them caught up, she addressed the elephant in the room.
“So your car’s fucked, huh?” Jodie stated.
“Unfortunately,” Mitch grimaced. A lot of hemming and hawing later, they settled on Mitch leaving it there. Being under the carport would keep it safe from the elements, provided there wasn’t a tornado or hurricane. He could either deal with it when he had the time or money, or Roland and Marie would get it to a garage at a later date. Until then, Jodie said Mitch could use her car whenever he needed it, since she was pretty much chained to being in Monument on account of having two businesses.
“If all else fails, I can always borrow Dad’s car,” she added, and Mitch had no other choice but to accept these favorable terms and conditions. Then they exchanged farewells with Roland and Juno, and Mitch emphasized that he’d be in touch soon.
“Did you know that after Abuela died, Roland and Marie sent me flowers?” Jodie mentioned once they were on the road. “Like, a dickton of them.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“I believe that,” Mitch stifled a yawn.
“You’re lucky to have them.”
“I know.” The response seemed to satisfy her, so she hummed contentedly. Of course, the peace didn’t last, not with Jodie’s restlessness. She allowed the remainder of a song on the radio to pass before speaking up once more. “So if I didn’t cause this, what did?”
Mitch stared out the window, at the passing streetlights and moon that hung above. “Nate,” he sighed.
“You fucked Nate?” Jodie wheezed a little.
“I didn’t know he was leaving because he got signed. He neglected to mention that part.”
“Oh, so you were fucking him for a while.” She gave a low whistle.
“A few weeks. Right after Krampusacht.” Hugging his midsection, he couldn’t hide his sorrow. “I thought we had something. I thought things were finally going to be good for once.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Jodie put a hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry, that’s an awful…wait, how did you find out?”
“The card in your drawer.”
“Oh, goddammit,” she spat. “That’s shitty, he didn’t even tell you?”
“No,” Mitch huffed out a bit of air.
“He’s so fired. What the fuck! I mean, he’ll be gone after Lupercalia anyway, but-“
“You can’t fire him for a consenting adult…whatever it was between us. A fling, I guess?”
“I can fire him for fraternizing. He’s at will, I don’t need a reason.”
“No,” Mitch held firm, despite Jodie’s whining. Half of the roster fooled around with the other half anyway, but he didn’t point that out. “He’ll be gone in less than two months, I won’t wrestle until then. It’s fine.”
“How is that fair? You just got back from an injury, and started a storyline with Avi. Fuck Nate, he sucks. Lemme fire him.”
“I don’t want him fired,” Mitch reiterated.
“So what do you want then?”
“A no DQ match. Something violent.” He hadn’t given it any thought whatsoever, just threw out the very first thing that came to mind.
“We can do that,” Jodie responded without hesitancy.
“Wait, I was mostly joking.”
“We gotta write him off anyway.” She pointed out. “He’s gonna get tossed from Coven, which was gonna be the final angle, but a no DQ with Zevon kinda makes more sense. You both have way more history. It could even tie in with the Hunter’s MO, y’know?” She glanced over at him. “It’d be quite poetic, at the very least.”
Mitch bit the inside of his cheek as he dwelled. She was absolutely correct. “Sure,” he conceded. “How about a dog collar match? That’d be fitting.”
“I’ll talk to him later. If he doesn’t agree to it, I’m just gonna have him killed off in a really stupid way.”