Am I being too selfish in wanting it all or nothing?
I don’t like that I automatically know the answer to that question.
But both ways I look at it, waiting for him or traveling with him, have a distinctly difficult future ahead.
Finding someone else would be the easy option.
Too bad there’s no one like Davey.
DMC GROUP CHAT
Art: Christmas Party! Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers!
Keller: Are you already into the eggnog? And did you save some for us?
Art: Can confirm mild tipsy, much eggnog.
Payne: You drank much eggnog, or there’s much left over?
Mack: Save some for me! I need a good night out.
Payne: Better not go to Art’s party then, bu-dum-ch.
Art: Did someone say something about bums?
Orson: Literally no one.
Mack: I miss Davey’s bum.
Art: So many bums! I’m crying. We’re all in the festive spirit!
Payne: I’m scared to ask what bums have to do with Christmas.
Keller: Couldn’t help yourself though, huh?
Art: Gather rounde ye numpties. There once was a songe called Little Drummer Boye, and people from all across ye lande sangeth of his bume.
Orson: I could be wrong (I’m not) but aren’t the lyrics “pa-rum-pum-pum-pum?”
Art: No, they’re “his bum bum bum buuuuum!”
Keller: And you’ll be singing this for us tonight, correct?
15
Davey
“Shit, no, Van!” I chase the little monster through the house. He’s done the dash from the shower, and his naked little body is sending water everywhere.
I throw the towel his way and miss, making him squeal and dart into the kitchen.
“Watch it! I almost dropped a pan on your head,” I hear Mack shriek.
Already exhausted, I scoop up the towel and hurry to hunt Van down.
I find him crouching under the dining room table, his constant giggles giving him away.
“Not cool.”