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I snorted a weak laugh at that. Doc can talk about a lot of things that he cares very deeply about that mean absolutely nothing to me. “Not yet,” I told him. “Although I reserve the right to keep it on the back burner.”
“Fair enough,” came the reply. “I think there’s a deck of cards in my truck.”
“I also don’t know if I’ve reached vet-parking-lot-poker stage.”
“Well, I didn’t bring booze.”
“What kind of a friend are you, anyway? Not bringing any booze.” Sarcasm is totally a healthy defense mechanism.
Doc grinned at me, then took a sip of his hot chocolate. “The kind that doesn’t want to see you wrap that Charger around a telephone pole?”
“Bah.” I took another sip, the warmth at least helping to chase away the chill I was getting from standing still.
Doc studied me with his gold-flecked black eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Does it have to do with the shifter in there or one of my open cases?”
“No.”
“Then shoot.”
“You have any siblings?”
“What?” I totally hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Do you have any siblings? It’s not a hard question, Hart.” He sounded amused.
“But… why?”
“Because you don’t want to talk about the obvious topics of conversation, and I don’t know the answer to that one. You were in my wedding, and I don’t really know anything about you. I’m curious.”
I blinked. “Oh. Um. No. No siblings.” I shifted, then took another sip of cocoa. “A lot of cousins, though. Like… seventeen. My dad has two brothers and three sisters, and Mom has two of each. And most of them have kids. Except my Uncle Rupert. I’m pretty sure he’s gay, but nobody ever talks about it.”
Doc’s eyebrows went up, and I realized I’d probably just said a lot more about myself in one rushed answer than I probably had over the last three or so years that I’d known him.
“Why are you sure he’s gay?” he asked, instead of commenting on my nervous rambling.
I shrugged. “Never had a wife or girlfriend, no kids, talks about his ‘friend’ Elmer a lot.”
Doc blinked. “There’s a living person with the name Elmer?”
I smirked. “Never been to Wisconsin, have you?”
“No. Are there a lot of Elmers?”
“I wouldn’t say a lot, but there are a few.”
“Is your family…?” He didn’t finish the question. He didn’t have to.
“My folks are cool about it,” I answered, knowing where he was going. “Not sure about my grandparents. My grandpa died when I was like ten, so I couldn’t tell you how he felt. I don’t know if my grandmother even thinks about it.” I shrugged. “We just… don’t talk about it, mostly.”
“Are you okay with that?” Doc asked me.
“With my extended family never, ever asking me about my relationship status? Yes.”
Doc looked at me hard for a minute, then opened his mouth to, presumably, ask another question. I headed him off.
“Don’t you even think about setting me up on some bullshit blind date,” I told him.
