Page 60 of Pet Project

You and your men are welcome to join us in Florida for the holiday if you would like.

He attached a photo of him with his granddaughters posing in the middle of a game of mini golf. I’m so glad he’s happy and not lonely anymore. I always worried about him so much after I went to live with Michael.

Me:

Enjoy the sunshine with the girls. My guys and I already have plans

Mr. Jones:

Tell Donald to close the damn shop and go get your freak on until the campus opens up on Monday morning

I damn near choke on my hot chocolate and Don looks over in alarm. I wave away his concern with my phone while I mop up what I spit onto the table with some napkins.

Me:

MR. JONES!

Mr. Jones:

Dad went to the restroom. This is Becca. We all want you to be happy Shy

Me:

Thanks, Bex. Happy Thanksgiving

Mr. Jones:

u2

“You alright?” Don’s voice startles me and I look up to see the shop is empty. He’s even sent Sid home, and I know that guy doesn’t have anywhere to go. Something happened back home for him, and his family understands and isn’t pushing him to come back. His dad was here a few weeks ago with his youngest siblings to go to a hockey game as a family, so I know the issues aren’t related to his parents.

“Did you invite Sid to Kink Manor for Thanksgiving?”

Don chuckles at my attempt to change the topic, but he nods. “He already made plans to go with Jesse to his family’s house up near Youngstown.”

“That’s good,” I mutter and Donnie’s brow furrows in concern while I stare at my phone. I can’t stop worrying about our pup and what we could possibly do to help him move forward from the shit his mother pulled.

68

DONNIE

That might not have been themostawkward Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever been at, but it certainly was uncomfortable. To say it was an unwelcome surprise for everyone to see Toby that subdued would be a massive understatement.

The food that he and Scott prepared was undoubtedly phenomenal Toby smiled when he was complimented, but it’s glaringly obvious that his light is still dim after that bullshit his womb rental pulled a couple weeks ago.

“Why don’t you guys head to bed?” Eli suggests when I bring our plates upstairs to the kitchen. The basement is the only place in the house with enough space to fit everyone other than outside, so that is where the actual meal was held. The theater room was converted into a melgamesh of hodge podge furniture and table settings. After the meal, I left my pets downstairs to relax while I came up to fret.

“He needs someone to pull him out of this, whatever it is.” My frustration is palpable as I look to Eli for an answer. But the damn sadist just shrugs in response.

“This is probably the first time Toby has ever let any of us see him as anything other than the happy go lucky energetic pup — at least for longer than the length of a movie. I think it’s a good thing he’s showing us this side of him,” he explains as he starts to fill the sink with hot soapy water. “You gave him a safety net. You gave him a home where he doesn’t have to fear how he is perceived. You gave him a safe haven to let go and actually feel the bad stuff, to stop hiding it away from everyone who loves him. You’re good for him, Don. You’re good for both of them.”

Eli leaves the hot water in the sink and heads for the stairs to the upper floors. I don’t really understand why he wasted the water without putting any dishes in, but I was specifically instructed by no less than five people to not attempt to clean anything in the kitchen here on pain of death.

“Owner?”

I turn toward the basement stairs to see my boys standing in the doorway. It hurts to hear Toby so uncertain, but I hold my arms open for him. I’ll always be open to him, to them both. He rushes into my arms reminding me of the excitement he used to always show for my hugs, before that woman showed up in our lives.

“Can we go home tonight?” he asks softly. My heart does a little happy jump at his calling my apartment his home.

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