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Thankfully, Cap was sharp as a whip.
He got my meaning.
I knew this when he turned fully to me, paused a moment to ascertain he had my full attention (he very much did, now and pretty much always), then he spoke.
“I carry a gun for work. I have no issue with people owning them if they hunt or shoot at a range. I also have no issue with people owning them if they feel they need them for their protection, but only if they keep them secured, get training in how to handle them and handle them regularly, so they know what the fuck they’re doing. And I own a personal weapon for that purpose. That said, bottom line, a gun is a weapon. Period. It’s just a weapon. So I think we need stricter gun safety laws so they don’t get in the hands of people who should not be anywhere near a weapon. And in the Army, I used an assault rifle. Because I was in the Army. No citizen in a civilized society needs an assault rifle. Ever.”
This was good.
So I nodded.
Cap kept going.
“It’s my opinion that it’s fucked I even have to state that a woman should have total control over the decisions that are made about her body. If the need is there to consult a healthcare professional, that’s her choice too. No one else should have a say in that. And any person should be free to fuck or love or marry anyone they want. Who you do that with bears no reflection on who you are. And I don’t give a fuck who or what anyone identifies as. It’s not my business. Don’t tell me how to live, I won’t tell you how to do it. You harm no one, I wish you no harm. And I know a lot of good cops, really good ones, Raye. They do shit and face dangers on the daily most people can’t comprehend. I also know there are shitty cops who should not have a badge. And I agree, shitty cops who shouldn’t have a badge are a huge fuckin’ problem. I don’t have the answers for fixing that, but I feel someone should work at finding the answers so everyone can feel safe with law enforcement. But I respect and work closely with law enforcement. It’s part of my job. It’s also just who I am.”
I nodded again.
Cap went on.
“I don’t give a shit who anybody voted for. I give a shit how you treat people. I give a shit how you operate in your community. You’re an asshole, I’m not gonna like you. You’re a good person, I’m gonna like you. You judge me for who I vote for or that I own a gun or that I work with LEAs, you can fuck off.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“You judge me for any of that?”
“No. I agree with all of that.”
And I did, and I could not express how glad I was that I did.
“They gonna judge me?” he asked, jutting his chin toward Scott and Louise’s house.
“I…I don’t?—”
I didn’t finish stammering because his gaze cut beyond me.
I looked over my shoulder to see Scott was wending his way through the vegetation toward the Porsche.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Cap said, and I heard his door open.
I guessed we would.
Shit.
He got out.
I got out.
Cleo trundled out behind me.
Scott called, “You guys okay?”
“We’re good,” I called back.
He stopped a few feet from us, and his torso swung back. “Shit, son. That’s quite a ride.”
I stared at him, because Cap’s Porsche was not electric, and both he and Louise had had electric cars since the Prius was born.
Not to mention, he’d given me a gentle lecture when I’d bought my Juke, which was also not electric. I’d had to promise him my next car would be electric, and now that I was getting a JuiceBox, that could happen.
