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“Yep.”
“What game?” I asked.
“A few. But Sinner’s Edge, mostly.”
“No shit. I love that game,” I said, smiling. “I haven’t been able to play since the new one came out, though. I’ve been too busy at work.”
“Be glad you didn’t have time. It was full of bugs. They’ve got most of them worked out now, though. What’s your handle?”
“God, there’s two of them,” Junior said, pouring himself another drink.
Then, yeah, Barry prattled on about the game and his career as a streamer for a while before Junior had enough and said he was ordering pizza.
“Pepperoni for me,” Barry called. “And garlic knots.”
Junior grumbled, but I overheard him ordering exactly what Barry wanted. Maybe Barry wasn’t so far off about Junior being hard on the outside but softer inside. Because there was no way he would tolerate what sounded like Barry’s many indiscretions if he didn’t actually like the guy.
“So, now that I have another set of eyes,” Barry said, walking over toward the corner of the room. “What do you think about putting the Christmas tree here?” he asked, raising his arms up over his head to imitate one. “Or do you think there won’t be enough room in the corner for all of the presents?”
“I don’t put up a Christmas tree,” Junior said, shaking his head. “I don’t even have a Christmas tree.”
“I made a reservation,” Barry declared.
Junior looked pained. “A reservation for what?”
“To go cut down a tree,” Barry said in a tone that suggested that was the most normal thing in the world to declare.
“I don’t want to cut down a tree.”
“Of course you do. I even bought you one of those hats like Eddie wore.”
“Eddie?” I asked when Junior clearly wasn’t going to.
“Eddie, the cousin fromNational Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” Barry declared.
“Oh, thank God,” Junior grumbled to himself as there was a buzz, likely indicating the pizza had arrived.
“He’s my best friend,” Barry declared when he was gone.
“Does he know that?” I asked.
“Oh, he’s just grumpy like that. It’s like siblings. They fight and pick at each other, but there’s a lot of love underneath it all.”
“Do you have siblings?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “But I’ve seen it in all the TV shows and movies.”
“I’m Shale, by the way,” I told him. “I own Deja Brew.”
“Oh, right right. That place in the seedy strip mall.”
“That’s the one,” I said, shaking my head at him. “Junior brought me coffee from there last night,” he declared.
I went ahead and didn’t correct him on that.
He really was like a puppy. Energetic, a little too much at times, and clearly, Junior wasn’t a dog person, but you couldn’t be too mean to him either. No one kicked puppies.
“I think the tree would look good in the corner,” I told him.
