Page 311 of Untouchable

"Ooh, that actually sounds so good right now," Mindy says.

"You could have cake for dinner. I won't judge you," Mandy offers.

"Oh my God, babe. I might actually do that," Mindy says, diving back into the menu with renewed concentration.

Parker had been ridiculously excited about finding a dog cake recipe. He'd been ridiculously excited about the entire party, really. Harp just enjoys seeing how much joy Parker gets from spoiling their dog.

Parker begins scrolling through the pictures he’d saved of various cakes and dog fashion accessories, showing them to Mindy.

“I think we’re settled on the princess costume,” he says, showing Mindy a picture of Bo’s little sausage body stuffed into a pink tutu. “He seemed to like this one the best. It’s kind of fairytale themed, y’know, so Gunny is gonna be the dragon. I haven’t figured out what Petunia is gonna be yet. She’s a lot less patient when it comes to costumes, unfortunately.”

Parker gives Harp a pointed look, as if to express the disappointment he feels in their dog daughter’s lack of fashion sense.

"Hey, don't yuck somebody else's yum," Mandy says. "If Petunia is a nudist, I respect that."

"Honestly Parker, for someone who likes to be naked as much as you do, your intolerant attitude is pretty shocking," Harp says seriously.

"Yeah, God, Parker," Mandy scoffs.

"Mindy, they're ganging up on me again," Parker whines.

"Hm," Mindy says, examining her nails. "Sounds like a personal problem to me."

"Mean," Parker says, frowning.

"Can we bring a side dish?" Mandy offers. "Or, I dunno—whiskey?"

"Whiskey," Harp says quickly. "Whiskey is good."

* * *

Mandy and Harpstart in on a conversation about some whiskey distillery that opened up last month the next town over, and Parker smiles to himself as he listens. Absentmindedly, he reaches under the table to find Harp’s hand, squeezing it. Harp’s still not exactly bubbly, but Parker is so proud of how far Harp has progressed working with his social anxiety. Harp will never be the social butterfly that Parker is, and that is fine. He doesn’t need to be. But Parker feels a steady swell of pride when he thinks about how hard Harp has worked, how his panic attacks are fewer and further between, how he just seems so much happier these days.

And Parker is pretty damn happy, too. Actually, he thinks, happy is an understatement. Parker feels like, lately, he spends about 99% of his time practically delirious with joy.

The hour and a half they have together as a group passes too quickly, it seems. After Mindy and Mandy head out, Harp has a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Parker asks.

"I've just got this weird pain in my chest," Harp says seriously. "It seems to happen when I... say goodbye to people I wish weren't going away."

"Oh my God," Parker says. "You miss them? That's so cute."

"I miss Mandy," Harp says, clearly lying—Parker knows that he and Mindy have struck up an unlikely friendship, and it makes him happier than he could ever express to either of them.

"I can't believe your robot heart learned to love," Parker says, pretending to swoon.

"I guess all the forced socialization finally worked."

"Forced? I never forced," Parker says, feigning indignance.

"You... politely introduced. And I love you for it. Are you ready for cake? Or—oh, they have creme brûlée here... Why don't we find a table in the bar? Unless you'd like to go somewhere else for drinks?”

“This is perfect. Let’s go to the bar.” Parker grabs Harp’s hand, towing him into the smaller bar area. He lowers his voice. “Finding somewhere else would take too much time—I’d rather get dessert here and then go home so you can fu—“

Parker stops short, so suddenly that Harp walks right into him.

* * *

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