Page 9 of Dozer

"I'll do it," I say.

Hunter doesn't answer immediately. I imagine him nodding to himself. He won’t be surprised, of course. Nothing surprises Hunter. If anything, he’ll be satisfied.

"I knew you would."

"You were counting on me." I can hear what he’s saying in the silent beats between our conversation.

"I was."

There’s something in his confirmation that settles over me, and it’s not because he needs me for the job. It’s because he believes I’m exactly the right person for it, that I’m capable of doing it to his standards.

Everyone deserves to have at least one person in their life who looks at them and sees capability instead of limitation.

Hunter has been that person for me for a long time. He's simply never said it out loud before.

"I should warn you," he says. "The operator assigned to the mission is one of my best friends and a great guy, but he has a bit of a reputation."

"Oh?"

"He's... different."

I grin. That’s a word often used to describe me, too.

"Different how?"

There’s a moment of silence before he answers. "Do you remember the refrigerator at your parents' house?"

"The avocado green monster from 1978?"

"The one that survived three PCS moves and a tornado."

I laugh. "I hated that refrigerator."

"This operator reminds me of it."

"Uh… I thought you said he’s one of your best friends? I'm not sure that's a compliment."

"The fridge was indestructible and dependable."

"So, I'm being paired with a sentient appliance?"

"More or less."

"Does he at least have a first name?"

Another pause.

"You'll meet him soon enough." Hunter sounds entirely too amused with himself. “You two will make an… interesting pair.”

Interesting pair.

I look toward Dexter.

"I have a feeling," I tell the cat, "that this job is about to get weird."

Dexter yawns. I have no idea just how right I am.

"So I should start packing now?" I ask, opening my closet.