Page 10 of Cash

“Hey Cash. Glad you stopped by.”

“Hi, Dad. What’s new?” I ask as I take a seat at the patio table.

“Not much. Same thing, different day,” he replies with his usual grin.

“Want to come to the club for dinner tomorrow night? Ava and the women are cooking a family meal, and the Aunts are coming. I can pick you up after I get them,” I say already knowing the answer.

“Hell yeah, I want to come,” my dad answers while his grin grows. “If Terry wants to come, I’ll ride with him and let you bring the Aunts.”

“What are you volunteering me for, Lars?” Terry asks as he comes through the door and onto the deck.

I fight a snort of laughter at Terry’s outfit for the day. He never ceases to amaze and amuse me with his clothing choices. Today they include a lavender-colored button-down complete with a bright green bow tie. Navy blue cargo shorts, rainbow-striped knee-high socks with black cowboy boots completing the outfit. He’s as colorful as Mac. I’ve never figured out if he dresses like this to be noticed, or if he’s colorblind. Either way, he always stands out in a crowd.

“Club dinner, if you want to go,” Dad answers.

“Can I flirt with Axel?” Terry questions while looking my direction.

“Please do,” I respond.

“Will you be jealous, Boo? Will it make you a little angry?” Terry asks while placing a hand on his cocked hip.

“Only if you don’t. Word of warning though–the Aunts will be there too,” I say with a smirk.

“Noooo! Don’t ruin this for me!” Terry whines while Dad and I laugh at his expression.

I look toward the door when I hear a scratching sound. Before I can ask about it, Terry darts to the door and opens it. Out of it strolls a stocky, brown and white English Bulldog. Face full of wrinkles, bottom teeth poking out, the dog takes a few steps onto the deck before falling to his side and sighing loudly. It didn’t lay down. It simply tipped over and collapsed. What the hell?

“You got a dog?” I ask incredulously.

“No, I didn’t. Just dog sitting for a bit,” Dad answers.

“We should offer to do it every time she wants to go jogging,” Terry states while looking my dad’s direction.

“Who’s she?” I cut in.

“A young woman who likes to jog but owns a dog that doesn’t,” Dad replies with his ever-present grin. A grin that’s suddenly aimed my direction while his eyes light up in a way I’m all too familiar with.

Here comes the sales pitch.

“In fact, you should hang around long enough to meet her, Cash. Just your type. Dark hair, red highlights, big blue eyes, slim, athletic build, beautiful smile and must like to work out. I looked, and there wasn’t a ring. Few years younger than you too, so that’s a plus.”

“Why’s her being younger than me a plus?”

“Not old enough to know better than to date a knucklehead that rides a motorcycle,” Dad answers with a belly laugh. “But still smart enough to put a lot of life insurance on you if you get hitched.”

“Cash isn’t looking for a woman, Lars. He’s still fighting his attraction for me,” Terry adds his two cents worth.

I watch in amusement as Terry’s face scrunches up like a 4-year-old’s when they’re told to eat spinach. I’m getting ready to ask him why when I get a whiff of the cause. The dog releases a large sigh and continues to nap, completely unaware that he just fouled the air in a three-block radius.

“What in the hell does she feed him to cause that stench?” Terry shouts as he moves upwind while fanning the air in front of his face.

“Rotten sardines, maybe?” Dad replies as I watch his eyes water a little.

I choke back a laugh at those two, but I have to admit, the dog’s a rank little fucker.

“Glad he was outside when that gas bomb went off. The house would’ve stunk for a day,” Terry mutters while keeping a safe distance from the dog.

“Dog got a name?” I ask.

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