Page 24 of Grouch-ish

“Why did you react with your fist?”

“What are you? My shrink?” His voice is rough, like the gravel in the drive and reminiscent of the man who arrived two mornings ago.

“Do you need one?”

“No.” He scoffs.

“I did.”

Brock stares at me and if attending therapy just changed his mind about me, if he even had an opinion of me, we cannot be friends. He might be hot on the outside, but I can’t deal with shallow on the inside again.

His eyelids lower and he swallows hard. “Why did you need a shrink?”

“I didn’t need a shrink. I needed help growing taller.” I sit even straighter. “I’d been brought down but I wanted to stand up again.”

Brock’s gaze lifts to my face. “What happened?”

I shake my head. “Gotta earn my stories, fireman.” And his attitude about therapy has just knocked him over to the naughty list, and not the playfully naughty one.

A tiny smirk curls his mouth. “And how do I earn a snowflake story?”

“Tell me one of your own.”

He remains silent a moment. Maybe he needs a nudge, maybe a prompt, to get him talking.

“Are you still in love with Melissa? Is that why you reacted?”

“No.” The rejection is punctuated by a bitter laugh.

“But it still stings that she stepped out on you?”

“She didn’t step out. She fucked someone in our bed.”

“And not just someone, but your best friend.” I pause. “I can see how that would hurt. Blur those marriage vows a bit,” I tease. I’m not mocking his pain, but I want to lessen the tension. “And cross the bro-code line.”

“Yeah. Bro-code.” Again, his voice is full of bitter mockery.

“When did the divorce happen?”

“Nick was in high school. Ellie in eighth grade.” He pauses, thinking. “The most shocking part was who she was with.”

After a moment, he sighs. “Kenny was my best friend. We started in the department together. And as my best friend, I went to Kenny with my worries and concerns. About how stressed I was over Melissa and her spending habits. Her attitude about money. And then she fucked her. And now they’re getting married.”

“Wait. What? She and her.”

“Kennedy is a woman.”

Oh my. “Love is love,” I whisper.

“Well, I didn’t want my best friend loving my wife. Or marrying her.”

Totally understandable. “So, when is the big day?”

Brock brings his beer to his mouth again, takes a long pull, and swallows hard. There’s a bop sound as his lips release the bottle. “This week.”

Double oh my.

“My kids are with them. They’re having a destination wedding. In Wisconsin.”