Page 64 of Heart Me Up
Craig: Ha ha. That’s taken care of, actually. For this project she needs to use a non-standard medium. I was thinking she could use your cast. She just needs to draw on it and then photograph it for the professor
Malcolm: And what exactly is she going to draw?
Craig: When I floated the idea she mentioned something about a fantasy theme
Malcolm: Like elves? On my leg for weeks?
Craig: Remember that time when I saved your life?
Malcolm: I don’t remember it being quite so one-sided, leash-boy
Malcolm: Fine.
Malcolm: But if there are going to be elves, make sure I’m getting Lord of the Rings and not Keebler
Craig: LOL I’ll tell her. Thanks for letting her do this. I’ll invite Callie and Greg over Friday night and she can do the drawing after dinner
Malcolm: FML
Chapter29
Foster
Craig had madefriends with Malcolm.
Which shouldn’t surprise me, because the Malcolm I’d known for years was outgoing, engaging and cared about people. Okay, he could be an ass, but it wasn’t that often.
But the Malcolm who’d come back from his undercover op was almost constantly grumpy, prickly, and definitely worse for wear. And that was the Malcolm Craig had made friends with.
They’d barely met before the hostage situation with Randolph Mancuso. Only a week later they’d started picking on each other like siblings, but they were friends too.
When I went over for dinner Friday night, the verbal sparring didn’t let up, but Craig was thoughtful and considerate of Mal’s energy and pain levels. He made sure Mal was able to put his leg up on a chair comfortably as we sat at the table, and he got Mal a second helping so Mal wouldn’t have to stand up.
And the new kitchen table. Who buys an entirely new set of table and chairs because your temporary houseguest has PTSD-like symptoms triggered by your old set? Most people would hide the old set away, or cover the pieces with fabric or something. But without hesitation Craig put his old kitchen table and chairs on the curb, telling me proudly how they’d been gone in less than twenty-four hours. Then he’d dragged Mal to a furniture store and together they’d picked out a new set. If I wasn’t already falling for Craig, that would’ve done it.
And Mal was doing his best to be a conscientious houseguest. He was pleasant to Greg and Callie at dinner, even though Greg seemed to be testing out his dick persona on Mal like he’d done with me at first. But Mal chatted with everyone, and eventually Greg thawed and chatted back. After dinner Mal cleared his plate and offered to do the dishes, which Craig instantly turned down, telling Mal to go sit down in the living room since he’d had physical therapy earlier in the day.
So, they were friends. And I was glad, but maybe a little tiny bit jealous? Like this was middle school and I didn’t want my boyfriend and my best friend to have a relationship outside of the ones they each already had with me.
But then Craig kissed me when he passed me in the kitchen, and Mal asked me to help him get set up for Callie’s art project. And I understood I hadn’t been replaced. They both still lo—liked me, and there was nothing to be jealous of. So I kissed Craig back, and I joked with Mal while I got him arranged in an armchair with another chair under his foot to elevate his cast for Callie.
It wasn’t every guy who was lucky enough to have his boyfriend and his best friend get along so well.
Craig startled me out of my meditations on our intertwining relationships. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been quiet tonight.”
I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Sorry. It’s been a long week. I wanted to thank you, though, for everything you’ve done for Malcolm.”
“Fuck off, Foster! What are you, my mom or something?” Malcolm groused from the other side of the room. “I can thank Craig for my own self.”
I raised my hands in apology. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
Mal snorted. “Right.”
Craig snickered and said, “Hey, Malcolm, do you want your pain pill now? I know you usually take it a little later, but if your leg is going to be propped up like that it might start to ache.”
Malcolm frowned, considering.
Callie said, “It’ll take me about thirty minutes to finish, if that helps you decide.”
