I stopped and eyed him. Yeah, okay, maybe my MO had been to walk away when stuff got tough. But Theo was different. I trusted him. Maybe I could trust myself around him. “We have six puppies to raise,” I said.
His smile dawned bright, warming his eyes. “Sure do. And two of them to name.” When we turned back toward the clinic, he held out his hand at his side, a brush of his pinky along mine. We were in public in an unfamiliar town, and while this was California, I’d always been cautious, but I wove our fingers together and he squeezed gently.
I let go before we went back inside, and we sat side by side in the uncomfortable plastic chairs some bastard seemed to sell to every low-cost health clinic. A few minutes later, the receptionist called my name. My heart rose at not seeing a nurse standing by. No counseling meant good things. She handed me my form with a smile. “You can find the other results on our patient portal in seven to ten days. We only mail out positive notifications.”
Theo rose and came my way. I took three steps away from the desk and looked down. Yep.Rapid HIV test – negative.Theo caught my hand to read the words, then nodded and blew out a slow breath. “Ready to get out of here?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
I looked down and blinked as we left the clinic. Theo bumped my shoulder. “Progress, right?”
There was still Hep C and all the rest, but in that moment, my heart was doing a seagull thing, rising and probably squawking with joy. It was a wonder strangers couldn’t hear it. I grabbed Theo’s hand again and grinned. “Yep. Progress.”
CHAPTER22
THEO
Gaynor Beach Town Hall’sdécor hit a midpoint between basic and luxury. The commercial-grade epoxy floors had custom color flakes mixed in to match the town flag, and the painted walls looked freshly done in dilute versions of those same colors. The ceiling fixtures were two steps up from boring, and the chairs we were sitting in had fabric upholstery, not just vinyl.
And maybe I was fixating on the décor so I wouldn’t stare at the city councilors taking their seats up behind the table on the dais.
I knew which one was Van Doren from photos online. His pale skin and sunken face wearing a permanent scowl were unmistakable, even when he put on a smile for his fellow members in greeting. He came in carrying a silver-handled cane he didn’t really use. When he sat, he folded his hands on the top of the handle and peered around the room with an air of surprise. From his deepening frown, displeased surprise.
I’d seen a few videos of previous meetings. Shane told me I should know my enemy. The audience was usually sparse, filling at best a third of the chairs. Today, there were few empty seats. I hoped that was Arthur’s networking, and not a delegation of Marina Park NIMBYs aiming to keep strays out of their backyards. I didn’t recognize most of the faces, but I did see Dr. Louisa and the tech Oscar from the clinic, and Arthur with a handsome, bearded Black man in the seat beside him. Nash from the bookstore was there too. He’d seemed like he was on our side.
On my left, Shane nudged my knee with his. “Quit fidgeting,” he murmured. “We have friends here.”
“Right.” I tugged at my cuffs. I’d worn a suit, which, looking at the rest of the audience, turned out to be overkill, but I wanted to look as financially trustworthy as possible.
“And leave your shirt alone,” Shane added. “Maybe I should’ve brought Mimsy to distract you.”
“Maybe not.” Although perhaps a cute cat would help our cause. Who knew?
“Maybe I should’ve fucked you harder.” His voice was barely a breath beside my ear.
I had to laugh. We’d spent the afternoon in bed at the venue, with Shane trying to fuck the nerves out of me, and only left at the last minute to go back to my place for the suit and dog walking. Mimsy had meowed to come with us, but Shane distracted her with a toy full of dried shrimps. A satisfying ache in my ass reminded me of our efforts quite thoroughly. “I’m good.”
“Yeah, you are.”
At the front table, the video guy conferred with the council members, checked mics, and then went to his place at the camera. The mayor leaned forward, nodding as she surveyed the room. “Nice to see so many of you here tonight. I’m Mayor Leigh Jacks, and we’ll get started in just a moment. Those who don’t have a copy of the agenda can find it on the city website under today’s date. For those who are new here, remember there’s no audience participation until you’re called upon during the designated comment period. Please be courteous to the process and each other.”
The council opened the meeting with the road-widening project. Several residents got up during the comment period to protest, and a couple of others talked about the need to keep traffic flow off their smaller residential streets. I was glad to watch the interactions and get a feel for how things worked. The council voted to expand the road, and a few folks walked out in a huff.
Several other points of business filled a boring half hour. A couple of people commented on each. The meeting dragged on.
Then the mayor shifted the papers in front of her. “Item eight. Permitting limits for any project involving animals and their waste products.” She turned to Van Doren. “You added this one, Joffrey. Go ahead and lay out the proposal.”
Van Doren cleared his throat. “I heard that there was a possible animal shelter project in the works that would involve a large number of dogs and cats, with the relevant concerns about noise and infectious waste. While I am completely in favor of housing unfortunate stray animals, I propose that we preemptively consider what limitations should be put on the location of any shelter, before construction gets underway. That way, the organizers won’t waste their time on inappropriate properties.”
He pushed to his feet, his hands on the cane. “You can read the wording of the proposed permitting amendment. It simply reads that any business that will house more than five adult dogs and/or cats must be sited at least six blocks away from any entertainment businesses and single-family residences. It also gives a mechanism for adjacent property owners to object to the siting, and allows us, in the interest of harmonious living in Gaynor Beach, to require any such business to choose a location where it will be welcomed by its neighbors.”
Quentin looked over from his seat. “Question, Joffrey. What if every suitable location has a neighbor who wants to object? Does your amendment mean we deny the permit completely, even though this would be a nonprofit that will benefit the town as a whole?”
“Oh, I’m sure some location could be found. After all, we’re small enough that more rural properties exist within an easy drive.”
“You own some rural property.” The gray-haired woman to Quentin’s left leaned forward, eyeing Van Doren like she didn’t like him much. “Would you donate it to a nonprofit if your amendment closes off every site in town?”
The man beside her coughed. “Tammy, I don’t think that’s within the scope of the discussion.”
