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“Oh yeah,” I tell her, stroking her silky back. “Harder. Right there.”
See? Girls love me.
My girls.
My phone rings, and I stretch to grab it from the low table. Fluff hisses, digging her claws into my thigh.
“Easy, girl. Easy.” I pet her head as I connect the call. “Hello?”
“Rid. What’s up, man?” Jet says, his voice broken and tinny. “How’s the back?”
“Better.”
“Doctor’s appointment?”
“This afternoon.”
“Good. Listen…” He sounds like he’s walking, the line jumping with his every step. “You can’t go back to working at the warehouse.”
I suppress a sigh. “I know, okay? Doc told me that already. But what am I gonna do? Any bright ideas?”
“Actually, yeah. How about the bookstore?”
I blink. “The bookstore. What are you talking about? The shop where you’re working?”
“No, the other one.” He snorts. “Yeah, the one where I’m working. We’ve been short-handed ever since Candy stopped working full-time, and we need someone who can actually read, unlike me.”
“Jet…”
He’d always had trouble reading. As it turns out, he’s dyslexic, so no wonder. The amazing thing is that now he can read, and he works in a bookstore of all places.
“You were really good in English lit,” he goes on. “You’d be perfect for the job.”
I was. I loved books. Stories. Poetry.
I hesitate. “Jet, are you sure? I mean…is there really an opening, and do you think I stand a chance, or are you just kidding about?”
“I’m sure you stand a good chance,” he says. “I talked to my boss today. She says to send in your resume. The money won’t be as good as you’re used to. But it’s not bad, either.”
I rub at my eyes. That suspicious burn is back. “Thanks, dude. I owe you.”
“Nah, y
ou don’t owe me shit. Just get well and send that resume. I’ll give you the email address.” His voice drops. “You’re my family. Before I met Joel, before I met Candy…you and Xavier were there for me. You’re my brothers.”
I hang up and put my face in my hands, not sure what to do with this happiness.
Well, fuck. Looks like I’ve got a lifetime of tears to catch up to. Might as well get a head start.
***
“It looks like we’ve avoided surgery,” the doctor says, prodding at my leg, apparently pleased that the numbness has worn off.
He’s less concerned about the pain. It will go away, he said. And I am to take the anti-inflammatories for a while longer, and do specific exercises.
Needless to say my mind goes straight into the gutter, as I picture the sort of exercises Brylee could help me with.
“You got off light, Mr. Connors,” the doctor says, stepping away and stroking his gray goatee. “You were lucky. The back, the spine, they are very sensitive. A problem there and your mobility could get compromised.”
