Page 71 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“You got me a goat?” Artie's voice cracked. “You actually got me a goat?”
“I know how much you wanted one. And when I found out about Vincent, the rescue mentioned he had a bonded friend, so...” I picked up Holly, who immediately started investigating my collar. “Happy just-because-I-wanted-to day.”
“We both got each other goats,” Artie said, starting to laugh through her tears. “We're those people who get each other goats.”
“Technically, I got you a goat because I knew you wanted one. You got me a goat for my birthday. Totally different.”
“Shut up.” She was holding Vincent and crying and laughing at the same time. “This is the best gift anyone's ever given me.”
“A goat?”
“Someone knowing me well enough to know I needed a goat.” She looked at the pen, where I'd hung a hand-painted sign that read “Vincent & Holly's House” with little hearts around it. “You even made them a house.”
“They're our goats. We're co-parenting.” I set Holly down, and she immediately ran to inspect Vincent, who was still in Artie's arms.
She launched herself at me, careful not to squish Vincent between us, wrapping her free arm around my neck. “This is the best gift anyone's ever given me,” she whispered against my neck. “You're the best friend anyone could ever have.”
Friend. Right. That's what I was.
“Dios Mio,” AbuelaNovela's voice carried across the yard. “El amor! The yearning! Someone kiss someone already!”
We jumped apart to find half the party had migrated to the back door to watch us.
“We were just—“ Artie started.
“Hugging,” I finished. “Platonically. About goats.”
“Right,” Sean said, not even trying to hide his smirk. “Platonic goat hugs.”
Vincent chose that moment to walk over to where Tyson was standing and headbutt him directly in the shin.
“Yowch.” Tyson stepped back, but Vincent followed, bleating aggressively.
Holly joined in, grabbing Tyson's shoelace in her teeth and pulling.
“I don't think they like you,” Jules observed with obvious delight.
“Animals usually love me,” Tyson said, trying to gently shake Holly off his shoe while Vincent continued his shin assault.
Flynn was definitely laughing now, not even trying to hide it. He caught Tyson's eye and they shared some kind of look that I couldn't interpret.
“Maybe they're just excited,” Artie said, trying to call Holly back. But Holly had successfully untied Tyson's shoe and was now trying to steal it entirely.
“Or maybe they're excellent judges of character,” Nana suggested innocently.
“Vincent, no,” I said, scooping up my new son before he could do actual damage to Tyson's shins. Vincent immediately settled in my arms, looking angelic.
The party moved back inside, but the goats had to stay in their pen after they kept forming a protective barrier between Artie and Tyson every time he got close to her. It would have been funny if it wasn't so clearly what I wanted to be doing myself.
As the night went on, Tyson turned his charm up to eleven. He told stories about building schools in Guatemala, mentioned his volunteer work teaching kids to read, and casually dropped that he'd been accepted to Harvard but turned it down to play football.
“Of course he did,” I muttered to Flynn. “He probably also saves puppies on weekends.”
“Actually, kittens,” Flynn said with a completely straight face. “He fosters orphaned kittens.”
“I'm going to throw myself into the ocean.”
“The ocean's, like, an hour away with traffic.”
