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Not only had River turned out to be a great help around the shelter, they were much savvier at social media than Rye was. They’d had the idea to set up a cat cam in the playroom so that people could watch the livestream online, and did amazing photo shoots with the cats to encourage adoption. The shoot they’d done with the fluffy white cat with two different colored eyes named Jasper had been incomparable. It had included a deck of tarot cards, a piece of black velvet, and a disco ball, and had resulted in a couple driving four hours to adopt Jasper, as well as donate a trunk full of supplies.

“Okay, I’m gonna take off,” Rye said.

“Oh, hey, I have something for you. Hang on a sec.”

They ran upstairs and emerged with a flat square wrapped in a paper towel. They handed it to Rye shyly.

“I wouldn’t be here if not for you. I just ... thank you.”

“Aw come on, hey, no,” Rye said.

He didn’t want River to waste their money on him. He’d told River it was his and Charlie’s anniversary by accident the week before, too lovestruck to keep it to himself. Not the anniversary of their first kiss, or their first I love you. Rather, at Charlie’s insistence, the anniversary of the day they’d met. Because, Charlie said, that was the day his life changed forever. Rye hadn’t argued the point. He felt the same way. But it had never occurred to him that someone might get him a present for it.

“Rye, uh. Thanks, man. Seriously. You don’t know what you’ve done for me...”

Their voice got thick and Rye nodded. He did know. He knew what providing someone with a safe home felt like because it was exactly what Charlie had done for him.

“I’m glad,” Rye said. “Thanks for being the best employee ever. I think. I mean I’ve never had employees before, but you know. Employee of the month every month.”

River smiled and Rye tore off the paper towel.

It was Theo Decker’s new album. Rye hadn’t even known he’d put out a new album.

“It’s the dude who used to be the lead singer of Riven. You’re always playing them, so. And I know today’s your anniversary and I don’t mean it as a present for that, cuz that’s...weird. Is it weird? I don’t know. I don’t anything about anniversaries, but—”

Rye dragged them into a one-armed hug.

“Thanks, Riv. It’s awesome. I really love it. And I have no idea,” he added. “I’ve never had an anniversary before.”

River beamed.

“Okay, get outta here,” they said.

“I’m gone. Call me if you need anything.”

Rye said it every time he left, and every time, River waved him away, heading into the cat playroom, where Rye had no doubt they’d spend many happy hours covered in cats.

It was only 4:00 p.m., but the sky was darkening with the promise of a spring storm. Charlie’d be at Matheson’s for a few more hours, which should give Rye time to finish his anniversary present.

He’d started working on it the week before, and quickly realized he was in over his head. Though he’d spent many an evening over the last few months with Charlie in his woodshop, watching, helping, learning, all it took was trying to make one thing by himself to show him how much he still had to learn.

The gift was a laptop desk. Charlie didn’t like to admit it, but being on his feet all day, combined with lifting heavy things and working on the lathe, often left him with an aching back.

“I’m old,” Charlie muttered whenever his back twinged.

“Pssh, you’re not old, you’re just bad at taking care of yourself,” Rye would reply.

“Pretty good at taking care of you,” Charlie would say, leering or burying his face in Rye’s neck.

After which excellent and inarguable point, Rye would drop the conversation in favor of other things.

In any case, since they shared an office, Rye got to see firsthand how bad Charlie was at taking care of his back. He was a large man and he used a small laptop to do all the store’s records. Though Charlie had built their desk a bit taller than a standard desk, it wasn’t enough. If he put the laptop up on books, his shoulders ached from not resting his arms on the desk.

Rye had seen a laptop desk on someone’s Instagram one day and thought such a thing would be perfect for Charlie. Adjustable, angled for maximum comfort, and with a place to store a Bluetooth mouse and keyboard, which Charlie could use at home.

He’d gone to order one, then decided that it would be far more personal (and, fine, romantic) if he made one for Charlie. After all, Charlie loved woodworking, he loved handmade things, he respected craft.

How often had he run his fingers along the silken curve of a wooden bowl after he’d finished it? When he thought no one was watching, he’d sometimes stand back and admire the double desk and built-in shelves he’d created for their office. He would test the continued structural integrity of the cat ramps every so often, making sure they were still sturdy and plumb.

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