Page 16 of Head Over Feels
“Um, maybe?Shedoesn’t run around as much as she used to.Andshe is a little stiff in the mornings.”
“Huh.”Thenlike an asshole he took his foot off the brake and started to talk about his day at work.Thanksso much for dumping some guilt and moving on there, buddy.
Abouteight minutes later we arrived atFosterandCraig’splace.Thedriveway was already filled with cars, so we parked down the street.Iliked howGregnever asked me ifIwanted to be dropped off in front of the house as ifIwas an invalid.Imight have a cane, butIcould still walk for fuck’s sake.People—yes,I’mtalking about you,Craig—needed to chill out and worry about their own problems.
Fosteropened the front door and dragged me into a huge hug. “Mal, it seems like ages sinceI’veseen you.”HeclappedGregon the shoulder and led us into the living room.Thedining table was covered in snacks and game boxes like a more edible version ofCraig’soffice desk.
Lookingaround,Iasked, “Where’sthe pooch?”FosterandCraighad adopted a dog fromColeWashburn’srescue ranch a couple of months ago.Shewas nervous around people in general, but she was absolutelyterrifiedof my cane.Ifelt like a monster every timeIcame over, which usually morphed into rage at people who abused animals.
“She’sin the bedroom,”Craigresponded. “Wegave her a knuckle, so she’s happy.”
Ihesitated, curiosity warring with caution.Craigsmirked and waited.HeknewI’dwant to know what the hell a knuckle was.Butafter learning where so-called “bully sticks” came from,Iwasn’t interested in another unpleasant mental image.Craigdid this sort of shit on purpose.Asshole.Ishook my head and continued toward the kitchen.
Almosteveryone in the usual crew had shown up.FosterandCraigwere there of course, as well asArtieCallahanandCarlosOchoa,Foster’scolleagues in theBentOakPD.Iwas especially stoked to seeSilviaCortez,FosterandCraig’sneighbor from across the street.Therest of us always brought beer and snacks, but whenSilviaattended, she could be counted on to bring a meal.
Sometimesshe made dishes from her nativeMexicoand sometimes she experimented withAmericanor other cuisines.Butwhatever she brought, it was always the best thingIput in my mouth until the next game night rolled around.Goahead, insert joke here about my lack of sex life.Whatever.
Afterputting the beer in the fridge and greeting everyone, including a kiss on the cheek forSilvia,Ichecked out what she’d gifted us with. “Damn,Silvia,”Igushed. “Thislooks great!”She’doutdone herself with pozole soup and homemade cornbread on the side.CarlosandArtiewere already chowing down at the table.
Gregsniffed appreciatively over the soup. “Silvia, this smells fantastic.DoIdetect a hint of pork along with the beef tonight?”Greghad a nose to rival a bloodhound’s.
Silviaput her arm around him as they both admired her creation. “That’sright,mijo,” she told him. “Letme get some for you.”Sheserved him herself, then merely patted my fucking cheek as she passed me on the way to the table.
Gregflashed me a triumphant grin, andImouthedass kisserat him.
Lookingaround asIsat down,Iasked, “WhereareAmyandMike?”AmywasFoster’spartner in theBentOakPD.
“Theyhad to go to dinner atMike’sparents’ house tonight,”Fostertold us.Iwas disappointed not to see them, butMikewon our games with alarming regularity.Theman was a board game shark.Hisparents were welcome to him tonight.
AsalwaysIsquashed down any vague longingImight have had for some family obligations of my own.
Ihad none.Family, that is.Notto make you feel sorry for me or anything; sometimes that’s the way things work out.Sure,Iwas bitter about being thrown out of the house as soon asIgraduated high school for having dared to come out as bisexual.Ididn’t have the words for it back then, but these daysIconsidered myself pansexual.Ialways chuckled picturing how my parents would’ve reacted tothatnews.
I’dworked my way through college—undergraduateandgrad school, fuck you very much,MomandDad.Imissed my little sister and brother, but my parents had controlled all communications and my siblings had never tried to contact me even after they left home themselves.
SoIwas a lone wolf, butIhad my friends.Okay, so my friends from my old job inSanAntoniohad turned out to be work friends only and had dropped out of my life afterI’dmoved toBentOak.ButFosterhad stuck by me.We’dmet through a case whenIwas with theFBIand he was a traffic cop inAustin, but we’d connected almost instantly.Noteven living in different cities had dampened our friendship.
Foster’dbeen the one to introduce me to the people at this table, and they were quickly becoming my new family.EvenifCraigwas like the cousin who annoys the shit out of you but you have to be nice to them for the sake of the aunt or uncle you really like.
We’djust finished a round ofCraniumDark.Iwas particularly bad at drawing, so everyone always got a good laugh at my expense whenIpulled that action card.
Wewere taking a break to refill on drinks and snacks whenGregstarted the conversation that would end up changing my life.
“So, something happened at the pet resort today, andIfeel pretty bad about it.”
Weall stared at him in concern, butCraigpointed a finger. “Itwasn’t your fault.Youknow that.”
Gregpressed his lips together but nodded. “Iknow, butIstill feel awful.”Andthen he stopped talking.
“Shit, man, don’t leave us hanging.Arethe pets okay?”Carlosspoke for all of us.Silvia, who sat onGreg’sright, put her hand on his arm.
Greggave her a small smile. “Yes, the pets are fine.It’sa human issue.Thismorning a guy came into the lobby.Hewas wearing scrubs and carrying some brochures.Nobiggie, sometimes vet clinics offer coupons or whatever to our clients.”
Craigadded, “Ithought he looked familiar, butIdidn’t know from where.”
Gregmade a wry face. “Ididn’t recognize him at all.ButwhenIwalked into the lobby, he panicked.Hesaid something about this being a mistake.Andthen he dropped his brochures on the floor and ran out the door before we could ask any questions.”Hepaused to take a sip of his drink.Nodoubt to heighten the tension for his story, the fucker.
“Well?Whowas he?”Igrowled.
