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He glances at the island, now all set with breakfast for two. ‘I’ll take some to go. It smells fantastic, by the way. Can you get it ready for me?’
‘Bark! Bark! Bark!’ Spike yells, scaring the crap out of both of us. Spike’s gaze is glued to Conner.
‘You see a dog, bud?’ Conner asks, glancing out the window Spike’s cage sits near. When he doesn’t see anything, he looks at me with worry. ‘Can birds lose their minds? Because I see no dogs.’
‘Spike, see dog,’ Spike says, his line of sight never leaving Conner.
Insults. I forgot to add that one. Spike loves insults, and he’s good at them. He’s reading my mood and putting in his two cents like my grandfather would have.
As I pull the Starbucks packaging from the garbage to make Conner’s ‘doggy’ bag, I’m fighting away the part of me that wants to call him a dog too.
‘Scone?’ I ask.
Conner shakes his head as he zips his suitcase closed. He sits on the bed to tie his Adidas tennis shoes. ‘I’m off sugar. Have to keep this machine moving while I save lives.’ He pats his stomach, where I assume he thinks a six pack lives? If so, it’s just beneath the surface. ‘Just fruit and coffee for me.’
He’s off sugar? Last night he drank a Mai Tai and ate my remaining chocolate-covered coffee beans. That’s not exactly sugar-free. I glance down at the protein cheese trays I bought and shove them into the bag. I’m not off sugar, so I’m keeping the scones and banana bread. My lunch and dinner are set.
There’s a knock on my door, but it’s drowned out by Spike screaming about shooting intruders. When the door opens, I realize it’s my next-door neighbor, Thomas. He’s a sweet, seventy-seven-year-old man who likes to bring over nearly spoiled fruit to feed Spike.
I’ve known him since I was a kid, as Thomas is part of Dad’s biker club. The age range of Devil’s Beard (that’s their ‘gang’ name, and yes, they’re all ZZ-top-style hairy) is twenty-one to eight-five. This ‘gang’ has regulations listed on their framed ‘Devil’s Beard Written Law’ that the original founding members created back in the fifties, and it graces the entry wall of a ‘secret’ dive bar they’ve creatively named DB. (Does it stand for Devil’s Beard or dive bar? No one knows.) I’ve never been to this place, nor do I want to. I’ve heard rumors, and I have a feeling it’s where the younger guys keep gonorrhea alive. Gross.
As a kid, I thought all my dad’s friends were badass. I’d threaten boys at school that my father would request his buddies to come ‘take care of them’ – like I was the daughter of a mafia lord. That was a tad deceiving, as most of them were pretty docile, but some were downright scary. Mostly, they’re rough-edged guys obsessing over their motorbikes, enjoying the biker gang stereotype and the freeing feeling riding gives them. Look out, world! Docile or not, they carry brass knuckles, mace spray, weapons, and God knows what else on their persons. The elderly crowd, like Thomas, mostly ride to the beach and back nowadays, and they stay in luxury hotels because sleeping on the sand like they did when they were young would get them drowned when the high tide came in before they could get up again.
Thomas is how I got this apartment. He looks out for me for my father, and I look out for him for God. He’s recently had some health issues so I’ve got an open-door policy, and he has my spare key. I want to make sure this sweet old man lives the life he deserves, so we spend a lot of time together. We even binge watch shows together.
Once, when I got home, Biggie Smalls was blasting through my apartment. Leave it to Laney to teach the bird to use Alexa. Thomas was inside, keeping the beat much like Spike was, with mostly his upper half. He said he came to turn it down, but it was catchy, and Spike told him to dance, so he danced. A vision I will never forget, especially since I danced with them when I realized a dance party was needed for the day I’d had.
‘Jade sweetheart, do you, by chance, have enough coffee for the crazy old man who forgot to buy some at the store last night? I went for one thing and, of course, came home without it.’ Thomas glances at Conner as he stands from the bed. ‘Oh my,’ he says. ‘Am I interrupting?’
‘Nope, I’m just heading out,’ Conner informs him.
This morning isn’t going as I had planned. ‘Here, Thomas.’ I hand him the steaming mug of coffee on my island that I was going to drink.
‘Thank you, darlin’. Time for you to head back already, eh?’ he asks Conner.
‘Yep,’ he says with a smile I’ve never witnessed – like he’s going on the trip of a lifetime – as he yanks up the handle of his suitcase and pulls it towards the front door.
I follow him over, ushering Thomas out first. ‘Can you give us a few, Thom?’
‘Of course. I’ll be right next door, honey.’
After he exits, I close the door behind him and stand between Conner and the only way out of my apartment.
‘Here,’ I say, handing him the bag free of sugar and the coffee he’s drinking black whether he likes it or not.
‘Thanks, babe.’ He pecks a kiss on my lips as he reaches for the doorknob, but I step in front of it. ‘What are you doing?’ he questions. ‘My flight leaves in an hour and a half. If I don’t leave now, I’ll never get through traffic.’
‘Why’d you change your flight without telling me?’ I ask, the disappointment I’m trying to hold back surfacing with my words.
He sighs but doesn’t look remorseful. ‘I’m excited to get back. All my friends are in Boston.’
‘But your fiancée is here.’ I wave my ringless hand in his face again.
‘That’s right,’ he says with a guilty grin, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me close. ‘I know exactly where to find you, and as soon as I have some free time, I’ll be just as excited to get back here to see you, and when I do, I’ll be able to afford the ring you deserve.’
‘Really?’ I ask, unsure if he’s blowing smoke or not.
‘Jade. Do you think I’d ask you to marry me and not be serious?’
