Page 4 of Doing Life

“You know it,” Sloan took it, then waved.

He turned back to Mike Riviera, the guy who was going to show him around town, show him the ropes.

“Well, happy first day,” Mike said, chuckling.

“Thanks. So much fun.”

Mike grinned. “Come on. I’ll show you all the places in town where you can get free coffee.”

“Wow. That’s pretty cool.” MPs were pretty universally reviled. He was pretty sure cops were also not loved. So, to have folks appreciate him would be… new.

“Yeah. We have a great job. There’s not a ton of crime, there’s a lot of fun parts—visiting the schools, holidays, parades, and people tend to be easygoing…now.”

“‘Now’?” Okay, what had he missed? He’d read a lot of the newspaper archives, had looked at median income and housing costs…

“Oh, there were a few bad apples in town, but they’re gone, and we’re back to gold.”

“Yeah?” Okay, so he needed to dig deeper. “You’ll have to tell me over pizza and a beer sometime this week.”

“Absolutely! You’ll have to meet my son. He’s ten, and he’s a hoot.”

“I’d like that.” He could totally feed a ten-year-old. God knew he had nieces and nephews. But no beer.

“So would he. He loves to meet new people.” Mike nodded to him. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

It was time.

Lance could wait.

Chapter Three

“You okay, buddy?”

“Fuck no, but I’m here. Hey, Brick.” Lance found the back of the chair and eased himself around and down, swallowing hard as he fought the urge to wince, his thigh screaming.

“That was a close call, but from where I sat, you and Abby did amazing.”

“Thanks.” He hated being praised for being barely functional. Lance was damn frustrated with how long it had taken him and Abby to even be in tune enough to go out in public, let alone cross the street without being hit…

“Yeah. I ordered us coffees and ham and cheese croissants; that work?”

He nodded. Sandwiches were easier than a lot of things. Soup, for instance. Pasta was damn near impossible in polite company. He felt like a toddler just learning to eat ‘spasketti’ every time he tried to have anything that wasn’t penne. At least that stuck to the fork.

Sandwiches he could pick up.

“Sounds great.”

“Yeah. I thought so. I remember how pissed off it used to make me, when I was learning to use my new arm. I was a walking time bomb.” Brick snorted.

“You were?” That was a surprise. Brick really seemed to have his shit together, and he could organize stuff within an inch of his life.

“Oh, Jesus. I was trying to pick out a birthday card for my mom at the HEB, ripped two, and ended up losing my shit and destroying the entire display.”

“Shit.” Lance chuckled, letting himself relax in the chair. He didn’t even care if it was true—although he believed it. There was a reason they were friends after all. “I can kinda imagine that. Brick smash.”

“Yep. The cards fluttered everywhere, the cops came, and my momma ended up paying the store to not press charges.”

“Oh man. That bites. I’m sorry. I just disappeared into small-town Texas.” He didn’t ever want to see anyone—ha! see!—who he knew, not like this.

---