Deandra whispered, “What’s with the snake?” And Shepherd shuddered.
The boy child had a snake around his neck.
“Hey, buddy!” Oscar, the locksmith, held out his hand. He was Shepherd’s age, Shepherd’s height, but with a belly that hung over his belt just a bit more than Shepherd’s did. “Good to see you!”
Shepherd did not shake his hand. It looked damp, and anyway, Oscar always smelled vaguely of cheese and cheap cigars. “We are not buddies,” he said, “and it is not good to see you.”
Oscar shook out his hand and made an over-exaggerated noise of pain.
Hayley, Shepherd’s ex, rolled her eyes but didn’t look up from her phone. Even after two kids, Hayley was still physically fit. She ran every day, often multiple times a day, the way some people drank coffee. He’d only seen her in a dress once, and that was on their wedding day; otherwise, she was in jeans or leggings or sometimes, like today, shorts and t-shirts with athletic company branding somewhere on them. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her phone case was covered in pictures of Lex and her brother.
“Hey, Dad,” Lex greeted, wrapping his flatter-than-Oscar’s stomach in a one-armed hug.
“Hey.” He ruffled her dark hair. She was his twin in many ways, the hair being one of them. Her personality, however? That came from who knows where. The devil, probably. “What’s going on? You here for dinner? A bit early, but it’s a school night, so.”
“No.” Hayley finally tucked her phone in her jeans pocket. “Our babysitter canceled.”
Shepherd frowned. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“We bought tickets for this movie a week ago,” Oscar said. “We’re meeting some of our friends.Couplefriends, sorry.” He patted Shepherd on the shoulder. “You’re still my best friend. It’s just that you’re single.”
“Please don’t touch me,” Shepherd said.
Oscar let go immediately. “Sorry, sorry. I forget. You’re not a toucher. Not a hugger. Physical touch is my love language, is all.”
Hayley pulled her phone out again. “It’s for two and half hours, Shepherd. They can play in here. You’ll be fine.”
“What do you meanthey?”
She waved at her son. The boy child with the snake around his neck. He grinned up at Shepherd, and four of his front teeth were missing. How did he eat?
“The weird one’s not mine,” he said. “You can spring Lex on me as often as you want. But the weird one’s not mine.”
“He has a name, Dad,” Lex said. “It’s a dumb name, but it’s his.”
“Hey!” The boy stuck out his tongue. The snake’s forked tongue also slithered out of its yellow mouth, near the boy’s ear.
Shepherd shuddered. The boy child sucked his tongue back in his open mouth and licked his gums.
“Oh, Ginny’s here! Sweet. Bye, Mom. Bye, Oscar!” Lex flounced off to the table of doom.
“No, wait!” Shepherd swept out a hand, but it was too late. Lex hauled herself into the chair next to Ginny and started shoving pizza in her mouth.
“What’s going on?” Oscar nodded his chin at the table. “Who are those people?”
“That’s Ginny—she works here. Her mom is visiting. And that’s Mr. Martin—he’s the landlord. He owns basically all of Perfection Avenue.”
Oscar nudged Hayley with his elbow. “Hey, that’d be a good friend to have, huh? Do some movie nights with him? All of Perfection Avenue?”
Shepherd shrugged. “Basically.”
Hayley shoved her phone in her back pocket. “We have to go. We’ll be back in two and a half hours. No sugar, no caffeinated drinks.”
Oscar dropped a kiss on his son’s shaggy head. The snake’s tail gave a noiseless rattle.
“See you later!” Oscar called. “Ya’ll have fun now, ya hear!”
Shepherd groaned. The bell above the door jingled as the man who stole Shepherd’s wife finally left the premises. “I hate your dad,” he said.
