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“I thought you were Jewish?”
“I am. My dad’s weird.”
Daniel laughed. “Enough said.”
I stared at his mouth and the slant of his lips when he smiled and wondered what the stubble along his jaw would feel like against my fingers. I picked up the Leica and messed with the settings just to make myself look away from him.
Daniel finished his burger and drank from his Sprite. We were silent for a minute while I snapped some pictures of his hands around the glass.
“You have nice fingers,” I mumbled, putting the lens cap back on.
My cheeks rushed hot as I vividly and suddenly remembered a dream from a few nights before that had prominently featured those fingers. I’d woken up with sticky sheets and a twisty stomach. I cleared my throat and went back to fiddling with my camera.
“Peter?” Daniel’s eyes grew darker, more serious. “You okay?”
“Sure.” I fought to banish the sexy images and redirect the blood coursing to my dick.
“If you’re nervous about meeting Bobby, don’t be. He’s really nice. And, seriously, if you don’t want to volunteer for ARK, that’s fine with me. It won’t change anything. No pressure.”
Soon, Daniel’s Betty Blue took us out over the river, down Alcoa Highway and into one of the neighborhoods near the UT hospital. Bobby lived in a 1940s bungalow surrounded by overhanging evergreen boughs and moss. There was a brown, picket fence around the front and backyard, and when we got out of the car, I heard a yipping noise from behind it.
“Looks like Kerri came by this morning and let Milky Way out. That’s good.”
Daniel steered me toward the side gate, and I looked over to see a small white fluffball hopping up and down on its back legs, and then wagging its entire backside at the sight of Daniel. I grinned. “Boy or girl?”
“She’s a girl. Aren’t you, Little Miss Milky Way?” He stepped through, and she leapt at him until he bent and scooped her into his arms.
She wriggled against him, her white fur curly like a poodle’s, but her face smooshed in like a French bulldog. She gazed at me with bright, cheerful black eyes. I patted her head. She was soft, much softer than Harry had been. I felt a sharp pang of missing him as I rubbed her ears.
“She likes you,” Daniel observed.
“She’s probably like Minty and likes everyone.”
“True.”
Daniel walked us around the back, fiddling around his keyring one-handed while fending off the dog’s tongue. The back of the house was more unkempt than the front. Daniel frowned. “Guess I need to get out here with the weed whacker sometime this week. That kid he hires never does a good enough job.”
We entered into the kitchen. The smell of the house was musty, like old newspapers and someone else’s food, but it was tidy. I noticed a dozen bottles of medicine on the kitchen table on a Lazy Susan and a big Crock-pot plugged in on the counter.
“He might be asleep,” Daniel said, a finger to his lips.
“Not asleep.” Bobby crept into the room on a walker. His gray sweatpants hung on his bony frame, and so did his worn-looking green T-shirt. Only his red slippers seemed to fit right. His hair was steel-gray, his skin ashen. A pinched expression marred his face as he slowly made his way to the kitchen table.
Milky Way squirmed in Daniel’s arms. “Here, can you hold her?” he asked, passing her over to me in a difficult maneuver. Then he went over to help Bobby, who collapsed onto a kitchen chair with a hiss and sigh. Daniel tucked the walker into the corner.
I knew, based on what I’d been told on the drive over, that Bobby was only forty-five, but he looked sixty at least. His face was lined and his gnarled hands shaky. The disease had wrecked him—that was easy to see.
“You can put Milky Way down now that Bobby’s seated,” Daniel said.
The dog scrambled from my arms and over to her owner. She jumped into his lap happily, licking his neck until he settled her down.
Bobby’s gray eyes pierced me, and I swallowed nervously. I’d never been in the same room with someone who had AIDS. I hadn’t thought it would bother me, but a sudden dread swept over me, along with a strange urge to get away. But I smiled and forced my feet to move forward, sticking out my hand.
“Peter Mandel, sir.”
“That’s right. Daniel said he’d be bringing a friend.” His grip was weak and the contact short-lived.
“Peter thinks he might volunteer with ARK,” Daniel offered.
