Trevor hissed sympathetically for that one.
Sky moaned quietly. “And… and my apartment building sent out a notice that the lease terms are changing in a few months. I don’t even know if I like this place. It’s just where I ended up when I came up here and I didn’t give a shit where I was. I shouldn’t even care. That stuff doesn’t matter to me…”
“It does,” Trevor objected. “I think you’re calmer when you’re in safe, comfortable,niceplaces.”
Sky was still wound up. “Okay, but this is a good location for deliveries.”
Other places in the city would also be good for deliveries. Trevor didn’t mention that yet.
“Speaking of.” He kept his tone gentle. “You eat anything tonight?” Sky’s silence was almost guilty. Trevor debated hardening his voice, but Sky hadn’t asked for that so he compromised. “Can you eat something while you talk to me?”
“Tell me about your cooking?” Sky asked, wriggling again, which meant he must feel marginally better after his short rant.
“I will,” Trevor agreed, “but finish your venting first. There has to be more. And be careful when you get out of your chair. No keeling over on numb legs, please.”
“How do you always know when I’m in the…?” Sky sighed. There was shuffling and then pained noises that meant Sky’s legs were all pins and needles.
Trevor did not express his thoughts on that. He continued to speak gently. “When you get food, remember you have a soft, squishy couch right behind you.”
“You’ve never been on that couch,” Sky chided, breathless and strained. “It could be lumpy for all you know.”
“But I told you to get a comfortable couch, so I know you did, because you’re my good smart boy.” Trevor quickly corrected himself. “Agood smart boy. Now, keep venting while you go get something to eat.”
He imagined Sky standing by his desk, eyes closed while his blood started circulating again, a tense line between his eyes. “That’s really it. The rest is boring.”
“Okay.” Trevor was ready for him. “Then don’t vent. Tell me something nice you’ve been up to.”
A second small, surprised laugh from Sky was fantastic. “I sent my dad a birthday present and he actually called me to thank me.”
“Well, well.” Trevor smiled for that. “Must have been some present. Golden golf balls? Fancy whiskey?”
Sky laughed again. “Close. A signed golf poster thing.”
Ellie nosed and scratched at the bedroom door, so Trevor got up to let her in then shut the door again. “Ellie is here,” he announced.
“Hi, Ellie,” Sky greeted her brightly when she sniffed the phone. Then he crunched something, eating at last, and getting Ellie so excited that Trevor had to get her a treat. “Kale chips,” Sky explained before Trevor could ask. “I saw them in the store and thought of you.”
Trevor ate kale only when it was cooked or covered in salad dressing. He snorted a laugh. “Why?”
“California food,” Sky cackled back at him, as though he wasn’t also from California.
“Fuck you.” Trevor flopped onto his bed to listen to Sky eat. “But that’s a good choice for you, vitamins and low effort.” Sky made a sound, maybe offended, but probably not. Trevor settled against his pillows. “Now, tell me more about the weird extra meetings lady who maybe dislikes you.”
It was Sky’s turn to talk. Trevor could ask Sky about coffee and describe the whole G.G. interaction some other time.
Chapter Ten
Trevor forcefully pushed away his lingering sluggishness from his late night and his embarrassed thoughts aboutcoffeeby spending the morning hours in the garden. It was the right month, with the right weather, for planting certain herbs and vegetables, and the flowers needed tending as well.
His grandmother joined him for an hour, then got a call from her sister and disappeared into the house. Trevor kept on working. He left his phone on the table after putting on a podcast and bringing some seedlings out from the garage. Some of the veggies had been planted from seeds a while ago, but anything that was helped by a bit of coaxing had been sprouted in the garage under lamps and controlled conditions.
When his podcast ended, he didn’t start a new one. He stayed over by the collection of metal tubs and the large square patch of the yard dedicated to edible growing things. Ellie got bored after a while, as she usually did, and gave up chasing butterflies to flop down under the plum tree to watch for squirrels.
She perked up abruptly about the time Trevor had started to think about lunch, then bolted to the fence and the gate with the loose latch that could be reached from either side. Since a squirrel was not atop the fence and Ellie rarely reacted that dramatically to anything else, Trevor stood up and went to peer over the top, batting aside a few morning glory vine tendrils that always tried to grow over the gate.
G.G. was on the sidewalk, clearly walking toward Trevor’s grandma’s house, holding a casserole dish that was probably empty. He had put on jeans instead of sweatpants. Trevor tried not to think about the effort that must have taken, even if they weren’t the tightest jeans. G.G. had even put a long-sleeved plaid button-up on over his t-shirt, although the cuff was unbuttoned for his injured hand.
Trevor’s grandmother wouldn’t appreciate how long it must have taken G.G. to get dressed even though G.G. had likely done it for her, but Trevor smiled to himself like a loser before calling out, “Just bring it over here!”
