Page 7 of Blue Umbrella Sky
It was true that Billy had always been very intuitive and maybe even a bit of an empath. But he wasn’t as sure about Ruby as he let on. He didn’t want Milt to worry too much, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if his reassurance was a cruel thing. He hoped fate would help him out on this prediction.
He barely felt Milt come up behind him.
“I should go back.”
Billy turned.
“In case she comes home,” Milt added.
“You don’t have to be alone. Let me clear the table and we can go out and beat the bushes for her. Okay?” Billy had to resist the urge to reach over and touch Milt’s grizzled face. He still didn’t know but dared to hope, anyway, what team the guy played for. Selfishly, and for only a moment, he allowed himself to regard Milt’s lips, which were full, almost bow-shaped, and, Billy was certain, delectable when kissed.
“Ruby,” Milt urged.
“Sure.” Billy glanced back at their half-eaten meal on the table. “I’ll clean this shit up later.” He crossed to the fridge and grabbed a couple bottles of water. He lobbed one to Milt. “Never go out without hydration.”
They started out, stepping down the rickety little steps that led down from the Airstream. Milt said, “The meal you made? That was delicious. I wish we could have finished, but all I could think about was Ruby—out there in this heat. She may be a pit bull, but she’s far from tough. She’s the sweetest thing.” He looked away, and Billy picked up on the extra brightness in Milt’s gray eyes. “I just couldn’t eat, not with thinking about her out there.” Milt’s gaze went to the scrubland at the mountain’s base.
“Let’s go round her up, okay?” Billy headed out to the muddy street.
“I hope your optimism isn’t unfounded.”
And Billy, for the second time, felt a little shiver of doubt, even with the heat, but refused to let Milt see it. “It’s not.”
They searched for two hours, until the sun finally set behind the mountains. They went up and down the grid-like streets of the trailer park, asking anyone out if they’d seen her. Because of the heat, there was hardly anyone to ask. The few thatwereoutside were busy trying to salvage their homes from flood damage and, understandably, weren’t all that invested in Milt’s canine crisis.
At least, Billy thought, it gave him a chance to introduce Milt to some of the neighbors, like the Maggios, a pair of Sicilian sisters from Milwaukee who’d never married and never lived apart. Theresa, whom everyone called Tootsie, was seventy-six, and her younger sister, Ethel, was seventy-four. They looked like twins and loved nothing more than each other and bingo. Tootsie promised to keep an eye out for the dog. “I see you walking her and can tell you already know about keeping her safe from the heat.” She’d held a hand up to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun—even though it had already gone down—and scanned the horizon. “Poor puppy.” She turned back to them, and her wizened face was full of sadness and concern. Billy wanted to erase her expression for fear of scaring Milt even more. She seemed to realize the hopelessness she was displaying because she caught Milt’s eyes and with a big smile said, “She’s a good girl. She’s gonna be okay. In fact, I bet you dollars to doughnuts, when you get back to your place, she’ll be waiting for you, wondering where her supper is.”
Milt thanked her and said it was nice to meet her and her sister.
“You come over sometime for a little nip of something. Maybe we could play a game of cards. You play poker?”
Milt laughed. “Badly. I’ll keep that in mind.”
They’d also met the young couple living next to Billy, two gay boys (almost literally—they were barely into their twenties) who’d escaped Vegas to clean up from a bad meth addiction. After they’d inquired in vain after Ruby, Billy told Milt, “I call them the sweet-and-sour twins. Cole is like some cuddly stuffed animal, wouldn’t say a bad word about anyone or anything, always with a smile on his face. But Carlos is just the opposite—always grumpy, practically snarling. I worry. But somehow they seem to be happy.”
“We never know what goes on in a relationship, do we?” Milt asked. They were now heading back to his trailer. “I was with my Corky for a long, long time. And some of those years, a person could look at us and think we were the happiest lovebirds alive. And then that same someone could get a gander when we were going through a rough patch—and the last several yearswerea rough patch, believe me—and feel nothing but sorrow. Still, I wouldn’t trade my time with him for anything.” He slowed as they approached his gate.
“Him? You said him?” Billy asked hopefully, maybe too hopefully, because it made Milt laugh.
“Yes, Billy, I’m a proud card-carrying member of the Friends of Dorothy organization.”
“Me too,” Billy said.
“Oh really? The rainbow flag outside and the Herb Ritts poster inside didn’t give me a clue.”
Billy snorted. “So, you do have a sense of humor?”
But Milt didn’t join him in chuckling. After a moment he said, “Yeah, but it’s been on hiatus for a while.” He sighed. “And, I don’t know, the gay card might be on hiatus too. Permanently.”
Billy chose to pretend he didn’t hear that last part.
They stopped in front of the gate to Milt’s patio. The night, all around them, was still. The heat, almost suffocating, threatened to steal Billy’s breath away. That’s the way summer nights were in the desert—little to no relief. It was silent. Even Palm Canyon Drive, a couple of blocks over, seemed quiet for once. Billy, who never wore a watch, wondered how late it had gotten. As if the answer might be written there, he looked up at the sky, black and crowded with stars.
He was about to tell Milt that they could go to the animal shelter tomorrow. Surely someone had found Ruby and had taken her there. That’s why they couldn’t find her. And maybe she hadn’t been microchipped, which would explain why Milt’s phone hadn’t rung.
The words were on Billy’s lips when they heard a whimper. Billy took a step back when Milt turned to look toward the patio. There she was! Ruby emerged from underneath one of those retro metal rocking chairs. She simply sat next to the chair, tail thumping wearily against the concrete, too tired, Billy guessed, to drag herself over to her master. She whimpered again.
Or maybe it was Milt.
