Page 34 of Tuesday

Pops stands with a huge grin on his face. He hasn’t had to put up with any remarks, so he’ll be loving that Mad Dog is in the hot seat.

“Oookay, well enough about that. Let’s get started shall we?” The kids all nod and Pops and Mad Dog start swinging their arms around, as if limbering up a little. Jazz shakes a coffee cup and then pulls a piece of paper from it, unfurling it and reading aloud “Two men rock climbing. Oh, that’s easy enough.”

Pops and Mad Dog arrange themselves, arms up, fingers curled as if on a rockface.

The cute little blonde girl raises her hand and asks if Pops could put his foot up on a chair, so he looks like he’s really climbing. The scrape of wooden chair legs breaks through the chatter and Pops hoists his chino’s a little higher, then stomps his foot onto the seat of the chair.

“Oohhh, that’s good! Maybe get that other Dog guy to stand behind him!” A little boy with the name tag “Buddy” says.

Mad Dog does as requested, standing behind Pops, then raising his arms.

“Ew! He’s got wet patches under his arms!” yet another little boy calls out.

“No no no!” The blonde wonky pigtailed girl starts chanting, “I don’t want to grow up and have crying armpits like them!”

“Now, Sophie, we’ve been over this,” Jazz soothes and I’m mesmerized by her skills. “Remember, that some people sweat more than others, and you can avoid wet patches like that by wearing antiperspirant,” she smiles, looking at all the kids.

“I swear Mad Dog is blushing,” Ana snorts under her breath.

“OK, kids, let’s turn our concentration brains back on. Thank you Pops and Mad Dog for posing for us,” Jazz says, getting this car crash back on track.

“Miss Jasmine, maybe the sweaty dog man can hold on to the back of the old man, like he’s holding onto him so he doesn’t fall!” Buddy says, the other kids “oohing” over his suggestion.

Pops scowls at Mad Dog as he gently grips him, hands on either side of his waist.

Snapping my gaze back to the kids I notice Elio frowning at the scene in front of him, his pencil poised above his paper. His gaze meets mine and my newfound positive mom vibes make me smile and give him a thumbs up. He frowns even deeper before turning back to the front of the common room.

The little blonde girl with wonky pigtails tugs on Jazz’s sweater. “Could the dog man maybe put his foot on the chair too and lean back a little? It’ll look really actiony and scary,” she says in a whisper, and then grins at the “scary” part. Clearly over her little meltdown about growing up to be sweaty.

Tittering sounds out around me and the Ol Ladies try hard not to laugh at what’s happening. The brothers aren’t as discreet, all of them have their phones out, recording.

“Gentlemen? Did you hear Sophie’s request?”

“Just fucking do it,” Pops hisses under his breath, quietly, but not quietly enough so as not to be heard.

“Miss Jasmine! He said a swear!” the wheel chair boy calls out, looking scandalized.

“Sorry I upset you, kid,” Pops mumbles at him.

“I’m not upset, just disappointed.”

Pops stares at him then glares over his right shoulder at Mad Dog, “Just get this over with. It’s for the kids.”

Mad Dog shoves him a little, kicking Pops’ Skechers loafer with his big black boot, his and Pops feet both up on the chair.

“That’s it!” One of the kids calls out excitedly, “Now lean back just a little!”

Mad Dog leans back a little, hands on Pops waist to keep himself steady.

“Oh. Oh no.”

Rhodie

We all see it at the same time. There, in front of a dozen special needs kids, the MC brothers and all the Ol Ladies; my father and my grandfather-in law are posed as lovers. By “lovers” I mean that it looks like Mad Dog is fucking Pops.

“We are all seeing this, right?” Rider asks. He’s my oldest friend. I know all his moods and voices and I know for a fucking fact this is the sound of him repressing his laughter.

One look at him and I know the both of us will burst into giggles and we’ll get our asses whooped. Well, Mad Dog will whip our asses. Pops will flash freeze us and throw our giggly asses in the chipper.

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