Chapter 6 6

Your grandfather wants to talk to you," Xander's mom said later that week.

She'd shown her father the revised plans and room designs the AI created. When Xander asked what his grandpa thought, she gave him some cryptic message about how Grandpa Davidson had to think about it.

Honestly, he'd never expected his grandpa to go for it since Xander was only thirteen. Besides, anything with an AI was somewhat suspect in most people's minds; they had no idea how the world would soon change because of that technology.

The best comparison Xander came up with was life before smartphones. Now, people could hardly function without them. Xander had grown up with them, so he didn't know what it was like not to have a phone. AIs would have an even more profound effect on everyone's future lives.

In his opinion, people relied far too much on their phones. The best move they'd made at school was banning devices during class. Xander found it funny to watch everyone reach for their phone when the bell rang. Who knew what earth-shattering event might have happened in the hour they'd spent offline?

"When?"

"I'll pick you up after school today, and we'll go to his office."

"Anything I need to prepare for?" Xander asked.

"Nope. He just instructed me to have you there."

"That's not weird at all."

They heard a honk from the driveway.

"I have to go," Xander said, stuffing a corner of toast into his mouth and grabbing his coat and backpack.

He ran out and found Donnie's mom's van in the drive. It was her turn to take everyone to their morning lifting session before school. Donnie had wormed his way into the arrangement when Kevin accidentally mentioned their morning workouts. Xander decided not to make a fuss, so Donnie became part of the morning group.

On the other hand, it made Xander's mom happy to have one more mom in the carpool rotation.

Xander found it amusing that Donnie sat in the back row, leaving shotgun to Xander.

"Morning," Xander said as he got in.

As he put his seatbelt on, Kevin jumped on his ass.

"I hear you're not coming to Pam's on Saturday night."

Pam had sprung it on him the day before, but he'd made plans to play poker with his grandpa that night. She wanted to invite everyone over to watch something on streaming video. Her mom said Pam couldn't invite Xander alone; it had to be a group thing. He couldn't blame Pam's mom, but she didn't have anything to worry about.

Pam wasn't happy when Xander told her he already had plans, but he had visions of cleaning out his grandpa's friends again. Word had spread that Xander had promised to play with all his winnings from the previous month's game. His grandpa said the buy-in had been raised to a minimum of $500, an astronomical amount for a friendly home game. His grandpa's friends still thought Xander was a fish who'd just gotten lucky the previous time.

"I told her I could do it Friday night or Saturday afternoon," Xander said.

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Wilson asked.

"My girlfriend wants to watch Netflix and chill. Her mom said we had to do a group thing."

She missed the naughty reference, which made the guys chuckle.

"What are you doing Saturday night?" Mike asked.

"Playing poker."

"And you didn't invite us?" Donnie asked.

"The minimum buy-in is five hundred dollars," Xander said. "Please watch the road."

Mrs. Wilson had turned to stare at him. She jerked her head around before they drove off the side of the mountain.

"What do your parents think of you playing poker for that much money?" Mrs. Wilson asked.

He pulled his phone out and sent his mom a message to be ready for a call from Mrs. Wilson. And that she should ask his grandpa about the poker game he was going to on Saturday. He got one back with one word: Poker?

Xander chose to ignore it; he would let his grandpa explain. Grandpa Davidson insisted he sit at Xander's table this time, but the lady hosting the game had said they would draw cards for seats. That had gotten everyone off her back about wanting to play 'the kid.'

"I never asked them."

"You have $500 to blow?" Donnie asked.

"Of course not. I'm not going to blow it; I plan to win," Xander said.

"What can't you do?" KJ asked.

"I've yet to figure out women. What do you say, Mrs. Wilson, care to clue us in to the mysteries of the fairer sex?" Xander asked.

She just smirked and shook her head. Thankfully, they arrived at the gym.

"Thanks," Xander said as he bailed out of the van to go lift.

Xander's mom picked him up after school. She'd already collected Izzy, so he got into the back of the van.

The van conversion had turned out great. The back bench folded out into a bed based on the design he'd given his dad. It had a locking drawer underneath that could be used to transport guns for when they went hunting. His dad had installed a high-end cooler in the back that would hold ice for ten days. He'd also installed blinds for the windows so they'd have privacy while sleeping. They would retract when driving so as not to obstruct the view.

Xander's dad, being who he was, wanted to make it something special. He'd also installed solar-powered lights so they wouldn't run down the van's battery. The wall panels had all been swapped out with wood paneling he'd coated in a clear-coat gloss, making it shine. He'd also replaced the carpet to match the bed pads Xander's mom had made.

Xander couldn't wait until he turned sixteen, and it would be his.

They dropped Izzy off at home and then drove to the job-site trailer where his grandpa kept his office. They walked in to see Grandpa Davidson looking at the plans Xander had given his mom. With him was Mr. Klien, the architect, a sharp-featured German man who slightly resembled a bulldog because of his jowls.

"This is my grandson, Xander, who messed with your perfection," Grandpa Davidson said.

Mr. Klien chuckled. "Max Klien. Please call me Max," he said as he reached out and shook Xander's hand.

"We've been going over your plans, and Max is eager to pick your brain before we build anything else," Grandpa Davidson said.

They waved Xander over. He glanced at the drawings they were reviewing and saw marks all over them indicating the differences.

"Janet told me you ran it through an AI architect," Max said.

"That's right. The company offers a free trial, which I took advantage of. The full-blown version is supposed to allow you to optimize for location. An example it gave was that if you lived on a coast, it would optimize the design to survive a hurricane.

"I asked it to optimize living space. That's why it eliminated many of the hallways," Xander said.

"My son has been pushing for us to look into using AI software to assist us," Max said. "But, like I told your grandfather, this is how we've done it for the last thirty years, and no one ever complained ... until now."

"Like I said, I only used the free version," Xander said. "The way I understand it is you can ask the customer what they want and what type of lifestyle they have. Based on that information, it can better design a house for them. For example, we have a giant dining room that we never use. Maybe the buyers are professionals and would prefer two in-home offices instead.

"Knowing that up front would make it easier to put in the proper wiring and office-related features. Better yet, it can redesign the layout to put the offices in spots that make sense instead of simply swapping out the dining room space."

Xander showed Max the website he'd used and pointed out several other AI software options that could assist or replace their current stuff.

Max, armed with the information, departed to face his son.

Once he left, Xander's mom and grandpa wanted to discuss the room colors. They'd met with the buyers of the two homes yet to be painted, and the people weren't thrilled with the choices offered.

"I just uploaded pictures of the rooms and selected options like historical colors," Xander explained. "For example, Dad wanted our home to have a Victorian feel. That period of architecture was between 1830 and 1920. So if you picked that, it would give you color combinations that matched the era.

"I picked Victorian and then chose a color palette they called 'Timeless,' which consisted of colors that could be expected to survive any temporary trend. They have a lot of designs to pick from," Xander said.

"I think I made a mistake in giving them options because we'll be ready to start painting those homes next week, and the customers are now excited about changing colors. Next time, I'll lock them in at the beginning," Grandpa Davidson said.

That made sense. Xander should've guessed it would open Pandora's box. Fortunately, it didn't sound like his customers wanted to change anything already in place, like countertops or tile.

"Sorry, I hadn't thought of that," Xander said.

"It's not your fault," his grandfather assured him.

Xander showed him what he'd done, and his mom watched intently. He had no doubt she'd be the one doing this sort of stuff in the future.

Once they finished, his mom turned to his grandfather.

"What's this I hear about you allowing your grandson to gamble five hundred dollars?"

His grandfather glanced over at Xander, who gave a micro-shrug to let him know Xander would let him handle this.

"Actually, a bit more than thirteen hundred. Xander promised to bring his winnings to this month's game," Grandpa Davidson said.

"You won thirteen hundred dollars?" his mom asked, aghast.

"Xander took them down, and now they all want a piece of him. My money's on him winning a lot of theirs."

Xander had played a lot of poker in his past life and knew that skill didn't always guarantee a win. It only took one unlucky break to lose it all. He'd made it his goal not to be put in that situation. He could always fold if he wasn't sure, though he'd lose a little.

But Xander had an evil plan brewing. He was counting his money before winning it-which meant the poker gods would punish him-but he'd played enough to know it would pay off.

"It's a lot of money, but I guess he needs to learn his lesson now," his mom said.

His grandfather chuckled.

"Xander's confident he's going to win, and after last month, that's understandable. If I remember correctly, he's still a thirteen-year-old, despite all of his supposed maturity. Thirteen-year-olds think they're always right. I'll do you a favor and teach him that lesson."

Xander didn't take the bait. He recognized his grandfather's attempt to get him riled up so he'd make mistakes. He hoped he got seated at his grandfather's table, though. It would be so sweet to take his grandpa down after that jab.

Xander played along, crossing his arms, but he wouldn't look at his laughing mom and grandfather. Let the old man believe he'd gotten under Xander's skin.

He and his mom left to change into their painting clothes so they could finish the house they were working on.

When they came in, his dad was there, and his eyes narrowed, which meant Xander needed to be careful. It usually wasn't an issue because his dad rarely came home until dinnertime. For some reason, he got home early that day.

Xander trudged up the stairs to shower and change out of his work clothes. When he came back downstairs, his parents were arguing. He noted Izzy was smart enough to have stayed upstairs.

"And you..." his father seethed as he turned to Xander. "I learned today that you have enough money to play poker at one of your grandfather's games."

'This is bad,' Xander thought.

He recalled the day they'd moved into their new house. The refrigerator was just inside the back door, waiting to be installed. Xander was carrying a box in when his father backhanded him hard enough that when his head bounced off it, it put a dent in the freezer door. His dad felt he wasn't moving fast enough, even though Xander had hauled in most of the boxes from the moving truck while his dad finished the electrical work.

Xander's older self deduced that the real reason behind his dad's anger was his mom's comment that she expected the house to be move-in ready. Somehow, his dad had gotten the building inspector to give him an occupancy permit.

His dad took any slight to heart and lashed out. Lucky Xander had been his target that day.

He'd not laid a hand on Xander since then. But this seemed like it might escalate quickly, so Xander was on guard.

"It's from the money I earned working for Grandpa Davidson," Xander said.

"Since I pay for everything around here, anything you earn will go to me in the future to pay for your room and board."

'That's not happening.'

"I guess I'll not work anymore," Xander said.

Even his mom flinched at that comment.

'Way to poke the angry bear,' Xander thought.

His dad stood up so quickly that the kitchen chair tipped over.

"What did you just say?"

He didn't give Xander a chance to dig a deeper hole.

"I understand your grandfather set you up with a savings account. We'll go down to the bank tomorrow morning and close the account. I'll use the money for your expenses," his dad said.

"Wayne, that's enough," his mom said.

His dad turned on her and drew back his fist. Xander jumped forward and got between them just in time for his dad to hit him in the eye. Fuck, that hurt. Xander fell against his mom, and they both crashed to the floor.

Izzy had snuck down when she heard their raised voices and witnessed the entire episode. She screamed.

That caused his dad to pause for a moment and consider how this looked. He would happily bully his family behind closed doors, but was conscious of how others outside the family perceived him.

His mom stood up and pointed to the back door.

"Out!"

His dad glared at her. "If anyone's leaving, it's you."

Xander stood and faced his dad.

"If you don't leave, I'll call the cops."

His dad slugged him again, this time in the mouth. Xander's head snapped back, and he again dropped to the floor, already out.

Xander came to just as the ambulance arrived. Police had his dad in handcuffs while his mom and sister sat at the kitchen table, crying. His grandfather came storming in.

"You son of a bitch," Grandpa Davidson growled. "I can't believe a grown man would take his hand to a thirteen-year-old boy. I ought to take you out back and horsewhip you."

"Easy, sir," one of the patrolmen said. "Let us handle this."

By this point, his dad was subdued; he realized he'd gone too far. Wayne mumbled an apology, something he'd never done in Xander's previous life.

Xander tried to refuse to go to the hospital, but the police officer said they needed his injuries documented. Besides, he'd been knocked out, so they wanted to check his head.

From there, it turned into a total clusterfuck. Xander didn't get home until nearly three in the morning, while his dad spent the night in jail. Xander's grandparents spent the night at the house.

When he rolled out of bed at ten, his mom and grandparents sat at the kitchen table.

" ... temporary restraining order. Oh, hey, Xander, how are you feeling?" Grandma Davidson asked.

"I have a headache, but I'm fine otherwise."

"Let me make you breakfast," his mom said.

"I can do it. I'll just grab a bowl of cereal and let you guys get back to whatever you were doing before I came downstairs."

"Before you do that, sit down. I need to talk to you," his mom said.

He took a seat as his mom built up her courage.

"I think I want to divorce your father. I just need time to determine whether I can afford to do so."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Dad doesn't have a loan on the house, and all the vehicles are in your name," Xander said.

"Say what?" his mom asked.

"How do you know?" Grandpa Davidson asked.

"I might've run across some stuff in Dad's office," Xander improvised.

In reality, he remembered all this from his parents' divorce the previous time around. Then, his mom was pissed because she'd waited until Izzy moved out of the house to take action. If she followed through on this now, she would avoid years of abuse.

That was another matter. Years later, Xander's mom admitted that his dad used to hit her as well. Xander never suspected.

"If we can keep the house and just pay utilities, I can get a part-time job so we can get by," his mom said.

"Nope. I don't want that son of-that man to have anything over you," Grandma Davidson said. "We'll buy him out, and you can work for the company."

His mom looked at his grandfather.

"I planned to talk to you about working for me full-time anyway," Grandpa Davidson said. "You'll be fine. We have plenty of money, so consider this part of your inheritance."

Mom took a deep breath and let it out slowly. A slight grin touched her lips.

"Finally," she whispered.

His dad wasn't going to go easily, but when Xander called and told him he'd drop the charges if his dad agreed to the divorce, reality set in. Wayne's lawyer must have explained that he would face jail time if he lost. Plus, his dad didn't need the negative press.

So, by New Year's, his parents were divorced, done in record time because his grandfather had better connections than Xander ever realized. It turned out the judge was the woman he'd met at poker, Kathy Grimes-Barb's mom.

On New Year's Eve, Xander reflected on how everything had gone. Pam broke up with him when he hadn't chosen her over poker. The sad part was that he hadn't even gotten to play poker. Consequently, his title as Rizzmaster rolled over to Steve, who dated Stacy. Actually, they were the only couple still dating after the dance.

Xander's grades had improved to an A/B average instead of all B's, mostly due to his new study habits. They had nothing to do with his having already taken all these classes since the old man in him had forgotten all that stuff.

Besides, who needed to know the square root of some random number when you could just ask your device for the answer? Better yet, why would you need to know the square root of anything in your daily life? Of course, it was that attitude that caused Xander to get a B in math.

The other big event was that his grandfather sold the three houses to families with kids.

The house closest to them had the Turner sisters: Connie, Julie, and Pippa. Connie, three years older than Xander, dated the high school quarterback. Two years younger than Connie was Julie, who Xander had dated and lost his virginity to in his junior year in his previous life. The youngest sister, Pippa, was his age. She never dated anyone until she met a guy a few towns over during her senior year. Not that guys weren't interested because Pippa was an early developer with big, round breasts that every girl would've killed for.

Next to them lived the Millers, who had two sons: Tim, Xander's age, and Brian, three years older and Xander's nemesis.

Finally, the Thomas family had a daughter, Lisa, who was Izzy's age, and a son, Cliff, who was a few years younger than his sister. Cliff was adopted, and Xander remembered he'd eventually ended up in jail for stealing cars.

Xander, Izzy, and his mom were sitting in front of the TV, waiting for the ball to drop.

"Your dad is pushing for visitations," his mom announced.

"That's fine," Xander said.

Izzy and his mom both looked at him in disbelief.

"You know as well as I do he'll be too busy to have us over more than a couple of times a year. It's not worth fighting about," Xander explained.

"I don't want to see him after what he did to Xander," Izzy said.

"I'll look out for you," Xander promised.

Izzy remained unconvinced, but his mom reached over and squeezed Xander's knee to say thanks. She would work on Izzy and persuade her later.

It was finally time for the countdown. Of course, they broadcast this from New York, so it was an hour early, but they always acted like it was midnight.

"Five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... happy birthday, Xander!"

Yep, he was a January-first baby. The family tradition was to have cake and presents after the ball dropped. Izzy rushed to the kitchen to get the cake while his mom stepped over to the closet where she'd hidden his presents.

German chocolate was his favorite cake, and he wasn't disappointed. He chuckled when all his presents were clothes a size too big for him. It was understandable because he'd grown to be five-nine and 128 pounds. He was glad to see new size eleven tennis shoes because he could barely force his feet into his current ones.

Xander's workouts had started to show results: he was beginning to have some muscle definition. He wasn't ripped by any means, but Xander was no longer embarrassed to take his shirt off-the thought of that reminded him of his concern his first time around.

The only part that sucked was that his coordination was shit. His grandfather assured him it would get better with time.