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“Do you know when he’s getting to my house?”
“Give me a sec… Let me see.” Papers crunch in the background. “Hold on, he put his schedule around here somewhere. Ah, I found it. He can fix the smell today, but you won’t be able to use the john until a joint comes in. The earliest would be end of week.”
Exactly how is that helpful?“We only have the one bathroom.” My voice exits as an unfortunate screech.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. “If you want, we could order you a port-o-potty at cost.”
“Because nothing says Christmas like an outhouse.” No longer able to contain my snark, I’m about to say more.
Before I lose it, Mia grabs my phone. “Can you see if the part can be expedited?”
“Sure thing, hun. I’ll call you back and let you know.”
“Thanks.” The sainted one hangs up and as she hands me back the phone, I hang my head.
“I guess there’s nothing more to be done.”
Ever the optimist, Mia pipes up. “We could rent gas masks and help you decorate.”
Picturing it in my head, I laugh it all off. “Let’s go. We’re going to be late for work.”
Chapter 4
Suds
“Hey buddy.” Slate lifts my son and tucks him in a booster seat in the conference room.
After the two share a high-five, my friend places a Batman coloring book on the glass table. With Mikey scribbling away, the two of us are free to speak.
So, how’re you doing?” As hesetsa cup of coffee in front of me and studies my face, I hold his gaze, careful not to blink.
“My shoulder’s healin’. You said you had some papers for me to sign?”
“Yeah, for disability. You look like shit. What’s up?” His built-in lie detector is damn near perfect, so I tell as much of the truth as I dare.
“I woke up in the night a few times. You know, kids, bad dreams, and such.” Hopefully, he won’t inquire further because if he learns I’m battling PTSD again, he could bench me.
Brows raised, he sighs, and hits send on his laptop. “I scheduled your appointment for Monday. That work?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” Keeping any emotion off my face, I count my blessings.
“What? No argument?” His head tilts and I backpedal, wondering if I fucked up.
Dammit. When was the last time I didn’t complain about having to see a shrink?Quickly, I add some clever embellishment.“My ramblin’ is gettin’ rusty. I need a new audience to practice on.”
Because I caught him off guard, I catch him in a rare chuckle. “It figures.”
He hands me a manilla envelope marked TOP SECRET in red. “Read this over and tell me if you’re interested.”
Pulling out the paperwork, I peruse the intel on a militia group, and stop at the guy who shot me. “Well hell, you got my attention. What’s the job?”
“They’re planning something big, and the government boys asked us to find out.”
“Count me in. Taking down those wanna-be assholes would be the best present ever.” A flash of memory starts my heart pumping, but I stomp it down real fast. I got no time for a panic attack. It’ll have to wait.
Nodding, he stands, and slaps me on the back which means our meeting is over. “I’ll send you a secure link. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.” I gather up Mikey, shoot the shit with a new guy for a while, then take my son to visit the Rockefeller Christmas Tree.
