“Yes.”
“Then I’m set.”
“Okay.”
He pulled into the garden center parking lot and found a spot.
“I’m at the garden center.”
She sounded distracted. “And Cheryl’s just pulled into the drive.”
Great, Cheryl got there first.
“Vi,” he called.
“Yeah?”
Before Cheryl unleashed her claws, Cal decided now was the time to tell her.
“You know that hole?” he asked.
“What?” she asked back.
He didn’t repeat himself, he said, “You were right. You and the girls plugged it.”
He had her attention, he knew it because she was whispering when she repeated, “What?”
“I’m not empty anymore.”
Silence then, “Joe –”
“Full to bursting, buddy.”
A breathy, “Joe.”
That made his dick twitch.
“Gotta go, baby.”
“Joe –”
“Later.”
He flipped his phone closed, jumped down from the truck and went into the garden center to buy a dog bed.
*
“And that’s um… it,” I finished my long story and looked around my living room.
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Feb was sitting by me, leaned back on her hands, her legs stretched out in front of her, baby Jack crawling all over her like she was a human jungle gym. Dee, Mimi and Jessie were on my couch. Jackie was in one armchair, Mooch, exhausted from eating dog beds and running around the yard with me in it for an hour, was flat out asleep on her lap. Cheryl was in the other armchair.
“Let me get this right, hon,” Jessie said softly. “You’re brother was killed, what? Three days ago?”
“Six,” I answered. “They found him five days ago.”
She nodded. “And since then Joe Callahan and Mike Haines have been goin’ essentially head-to-head, no pun intended, to get at you?”
“Um… kind of but not exactly,” I told her.
“Babe, Cal’s forcin’ a meeting with all your loved ones by hornin’ in on the funeral, not to mention you’re meetin’ his family in Chicago, and it’s the family. And Mike’s goin’ for the gusto, makin’ certain, if you pick him, that you don’t forget about the family house, the six thousand dollar bed and the family pet, doin’ it by givin’ you the business in that bed with dog in attendance. They’re definitely head-to-head,” Cheryl informed me.
“Holy crap,” Jessie whispered.
“Gotta say, livin’ in this ‘burg my whole life and knowin’ Cal the length of it, there’s a lotta gals, a number of them in a one mile radius of this house, who’d give their eyeteeth to eat pizza at Vinnie’s Pizzeria and get a go at havin’ their photo on the family wall,” Mimi remarked.
“Gotta say, livin’ in this ‘burg my whole life and knowin’ Mike the length of it, there’s a lotta gals, some of them next freaking door, who would give their eyeteeth to have a shot at showin’ Mike Haines that all women are not selfish, greedy, materialistic bitches like Audrey,” Jessie noted.
“Same could be said for that girl next door wantin’ Cal,” Mimi told her.
“I think it can be taken as read that Tina Blackstone would just about jump anyone and it’d be difficult for that woman to prove anything against bein’ selfish, greedy and materialistic,” Jackie pointed out. “She’s hardly a good example for debate.”
“Cal,” Feb spoke up, putting in her vote.
“Mike,” Cheryl shot back.
“Cal’s hot, but, seriously, he’s a dawg,” Mimi put in, looked at me and voted, “Mike.”
“My guess is, Dawg Days are gone so my vote, Cal,” Dee added.
“Put their names in a hat,” Jessie suggested, “you can’t go wrong.”
“Jessie!” Feb hissed.
“What?” Jessie asked, looking around. “Am I wrong?”
“Joe Callahan,” Jackie stated in a voice heavy with maternal authority and life experience and all eyes swung to her.
“Seriously, Jackie?” Cheryl asked.
“Seriously, Cher,” Jackie replied, her voice no longer heavy but gentle, she looked at me and asked, “You wanna know why?”
I nodded.
“’Cause, when you talk about Mike, you look like a woman who’s talkin’ about a guy she likes. You talk about Cal, you look like a woman who’s talkin’ about the man she needs to breathe.”
At her words, I stopped breathing.
“Jackie,” Dee whispered.
“You do,” Jackie told me. “Feb lost the man who helped her breathe, didn’t take a full breath for twenty years until she got him back.”
My eyes moved to Feb and she smiled at me then she pulled Jack off her legs and into her arms, making a nonverbal point that spoke such volumes, it was a wonder I wasn’t swept away in its waves.
I looked back at Jackie and told her, “He’s turned on me twice.”
“Even tough men get scared,” Jackie replied.
I felt my eyes get wide at the thought of Joe scared of anything and asked, “Scared of me?”