Page 43 of Always Salty

I pulled into my parking spot at my place, then called my brother for a ride before he headed into his shift at the hospital.

Chevy was an anesthesiologist that usually worked twelve-hour overnight shifts at the hospital.

Today was no different as he pulled up on his bike and came to a stop in front of my complex’s front doors.

“Why did you leave your car at Dorie’s place?” he asked.

“I caught a ride home from a friend,” I evaded.

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough of one that he didn’t call me on a lie.

He zipped through the downtown streets of Dallas and arrived on Dorie’s block about fifteen minutes later.

We pulled to a stop in front of my car, and I got off the bike.

Kissing Chevy on the cheek, I said, “Thanks for the ride, brother bear.”

He rolled his eyes at the familiar nickname.

“Get in,” he grumbled.

I did, starting my car up and pulling out once he gave me enough room.

He followed me for a bit, then took the turn-off that would lead to the hospital, while I kept going straight. I pulled into the parking lot for Costco, then got out once I found a spot near the back of the lot.

I was showing the woman my membership card when I felt a presence beside me. As in, right up in my space.

And, let’s just say, this being Costco, I was used to my personal space being invaded.

But after yesterday, there was no way in hell I could deal with that invasion.

I opened my mouth, ready to get pissed the fuck off at someone invading my personal space but looked up to spot Dima with his hat pulled down low over his eyes.

I promptly closed my mouth tight and kept walking.

He didn’t say anything as he walked beside me, but he did add a few things to my cart when I looked at them but didn’t get them.

The first of which was a chocolate cake that was the size of Jesus’s love.

The second was a platter of sushi that I had no hope of getting through in a week, let alone the three days it said it was good until.

I didn’t say anything because I wanted them, and I had a feeling he’d be sharing them with me.

But when he pulled out a brisket the size of Texas itself, I said, “I have no clue how you think we’re going to be able to eat that, but I don’t have a stomach big enough for all of this.”

“The brisket is for tomorrow. I’ll cook it at my place and you can come over for dinner,” he suggested.

“Why not just go out to eat at a barbeque place and save the forty dollars?” I asked.

“Because brisket that I cook will be a hundred times better than anything you can get at any barbeque place in town,” he said. “How do you feel about naan?”

That was how our Costco trip went.

We got a lot of stuff that we didn’t need, and by the time that we were pulling up at the checkout line, the cashier asked if we were having a party.

It was me that said, “He has zero control.”

She eyed the man at my side and said, “I hate to tell you this, but that man looks like he has more control than the president.”

---