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“Oh, right. Yeah. I mean, Barry is all set, but I don’t have anything but my coat.
“Barry is probably going to insist on buying a jacket that has heaters built in,” Junior said, rolling his eyes.
“So, when are we going to tell him?”
“I figure in the morning. Gotta get him in his room and settled first. Let him sleep this off. Then we can tell him over breakfast, hit the store, then go to the farm.”
“We are heading right back after, right? We’ll have to get the tree in water.”
“Yeah. And while you’re on there, go order a tree stand, skirt, lights, that kinda shit. Gonna need it when we get back.”
“What is your opinion on white versus multicolor lights?” I asked as I found his shopping app, and started adding things to his cart.
“My ma said Christmas is meant to look like joy threw up in your house. So… color.”
“On that, we agree,” I decided, adding lights to the cart. “And it matches the theme Barry already has going on.”
I spent the rest of the drive adding ornaments and such to his cart with reckless abandon before going to the cart and seeing the total.
“What?”
“What what?” I asked.
“You’re gnawing on your lower lip,” he said.
“Oh, I’m just trying to figure out which stuff to order and what to take out of the cart,” I told him.
“Just order it all.”
“No way,” I said. I was sure I could get the total down while still having a tree that looked decorated when we were done.
“You’re a pain in the fucking ass,” he said. Then his hand shot out so fast that I couldn’t react. He slipped the phone out of my grasp, tapped a few times to check out, then handed the phone back to me.
“That was too much money,” I insisted.
“It wasn’t,” he said. “Now where is the turn I need to take?” he asked.
Getting Barry up and functioning when we got to the hotel was fun. But by the time we got to check in, he was mostly functioning, if very sleepy.
“Why didn’t we get adjoining rooms?” Barry pouted when we stopped off at his floor. Two below ours.
“They were out,” Junior said, likely lying.
“But what if I need you?” he asked.
“Why the fuck would you need me?” Junior asked. “You’re an adult.”
“But, my arm…”
“Won’t get infected before tomorrow,” Junior cut him off.
“I could sleep on the couch in your—“
“No.”
“Why are we in New York anyway?” he asked.
“Hiding out, remember?” Junior asked. “It’s why we aren’t using my real name. We gotta keep our heads down. To protect Shale,” he added, and the way Barry straightened let me know that he’d succeeded on getting Barry to stop complaining.
