“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” He grinned. “Go on out. I’ll meet you at the car. Just need to hide— um, do a few things.”
Hide what?I didn’t ask until he’d come out whistling with Mimsy at his heels and was sitting beside me with the cat on his lap. Once we’d turned into the upscale streets of Marina Park, I said casually, “Hide what?”
“Oh. Well.” He bent to stroke Mimsy, his hair falling over his eyes. “I hide my stuff when I leave, as best I can. Have to leave the door unlocked unless I want to climb on the roof again, which I’m not sure I’d manage twice. That means any bozo could just walk in.” He elbowed me with false humor. “One already did. And I can’t afford to lose my shit.”
Of course.I’d never slept rough a night in my life, but I’d hidden a few precious belongings from my grandparents when I was a kid— a plush toy given to me by one of the pickers’ children, a photo of my mother. I could remember the fear of losing something irreplaceable. I wondered how often Shane had been robbed.
“Makes sense.” An idea came to me. “I wonder if there might be a key around. You know, a spare, like, hanging on a hook or in a drawer. People overlook stuff like that.” I had two keys to each door. I could pretend to find one and he’d never know.
Shane brushed his hair aside. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“Oh, wow, thank you.”
He laughed. “I didn’t mean you don’t look smart.”
“Like a brainless twink,” I said, playing it up, putting on a California surfer voice. “Hey, dude, gnarly place you got there. All empty, and, like, shit.”
“Brainless twink that drives a Tesla.”
“Might be my sugar daddy’s.” I did the voice again. “Ooh, I love this car, it’s sooo zoomy, but Daddy will get sooo mad if I, like, dent it.”
“Quit that. I like the smart guy who can talk about pressure and momentum issues in space travel.”
I lowered my voice. “That’s a relief. Surfer dude strains my vocal cords.”
At the stoplight, we grinned at each other. I wondered how long it’d been since I’d been silly with someone. Maybe not since my friend Jamie moved to Chicago with his boyfriend. I had the sudden urge to call Jamie. He’d probably like Shane, and maybe he could help me get my head on straight.Tonight. It’s been too long.
Shane directed me across town to Arthur’s house in Willis Heights. The neighborhood ran to compact houses on larger lots. Arthur’s was a single-story bungalow in need of a good coat of paint. Chain-link fence enclosed what looked like a decent back yard. I pulled into the wide driveway and parked. A variety of barks from deep to shrill greeted us from the house.
“You’re sure he’s okay with us just turning up?” I asked Shane.
He frowned at me and shoved his hair roughly off his face. “Well, till I get that phone, it’s just turn up or never turn up, right? I’m here to clean out dog shit for him. I can’t imagine he’ll be too picky.” He shoved his door open.
“Sure. Of course.” I got out, tugging my jacket straight.
Shane bounded up the steps with long-legged grace, a hand balancing Mimsy on his shoulders, and I followed more slowly. When he pushed the doorbell, the chorus of barking intensified inside. A moment later, the door opened.
Arthur wasn’t at all what I’d been picturing. Somehow, my irrational inner self had made him into this Chris-Hemsworth-Thor with movie star features and a lumberjack body. Instead, he had a wild red beard and curling mustache, soft features, and a comfortable big frame. His voice was gentle as he said, “Hey, Shane. Back to work some more?”
“Yeah,” Shane said. “And I brought a volunteer. You don’t have to pay him. He has lots of money.”
Arthur looked uncomfortable. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“Life ain’t fair,” Shane quipped.
I intervened, holding out my hand. “Theo L—” I cut off my last name abruptly. The Lafontaine sign still stood outside the venue, and Shane wasn’t stupid or unobservant. “And Shane’s right. I have all the cash I need. What I don’t have is puppy and kitten time. Zero furry critters in my life so far, and I don’t like that.”
“You can adopt. You don’t need to do work.” Arthur’s grip was firmer than I expected.
“I want to help.”
Arthur smiled, and suddenly the guy I’d started discounting became someone attractive— warm and sweet and who-cares-about-abs? I leaned closer to Shane without meaning to.
“I never turn down help,” Arthur said. “Come on in.” He had us crowd past him in the small vestibule and shut the front door before opening the inner one. The reason why was evident in a tide of wagging tails and panting tongues.
Mimsy hissed a warning from Shane’s shoulders, but I went to one knee. A big black dog almost knocked me over with its happy licking, a smaller brown one bounced against my hip, and a fuzzy white cat with a darker face wound between the dogs without a care to run its cheek along my thigh. “Oh.” I’d meant to say something witty about the furry herd, but longing rose up inside me and strangled my voice. I bent to hide my face, petting and rubbing and murmuring nonsense to the animals as they danced around me.
“I’m going to go grab a shovel and get started,” Shane said. When I looked up, he was eyeing me, his head tilted. “You can stay here and get some fur love if you like.”
