Page 80 of Doing Life

“Absolutely classy response.”

“No seriously, I mean I bought a nice used toothpick holder. That one was a funky plastic nasty ninety-nine cents from the Walmart that-had-dirt-in-it toothpick holder.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’re not opposed to old, just nasty?”

He pondered that a second. “Yes.”

“Okay, then. See, was that so hard?”

“Yeah, you little fucker. It was that hard.”

They stared at each other for a second, or at least he stared at Lance. Lance was looking sort of, kind of, mostly at him.

And then they started to laugh.

Not just ha-ha high in the chest, polite laughs, but full, deep belly laughs. The kind of laughter that hurt when they were done and sounded to someone on the outside like perhaps they were dying.

Even Abby was dancing by the time they were finished, and they both had tears streaming down their cheeks. He was pretty sure Abby had actually stolen Lance’s piece of pizza, and Lance didn’t even know it.

“That was the best.” Lance took a deep breath, then another one. “I mean seriously, that was the absolute best ever.”

It had been fucking amazing, and it was what he wanted, like full-time, forever.

“I think I want a dog.” The words just seemed to come out from nowhere, like he hadn’t even known his brain was going to push them out of his mouth.

“I think that that’s a fucking amazing idea. I talked to Luke about it. He says the paperwork’s done— we just have to find one. He can help. You can even get a retiring police dog if you want. Or one that washed out of police training. You can do anything you want about the dog. Hell, you can just get a dog that’s, like, your dog from the shelter. So that we can haveourdogs.”

“Do you mean it, right?” Sloan asked. “I mean, not the dog thing, but the‘our’thing.”

Sloan had always needed Lance to mean it, but he couldn’t bear the thought of it being offered to him and him losing it again.

“I mean it. I’m coming home with you to Santa Fe. I’m not just holding out. I have things that I have to finish withhere. All the people who are stopping in to teach me all the things, for instance. But I’m coming home with you as soon as I can figure it out.” Lance shrugged and looked a little small. “I didn’t…I didn’t fucking mean… I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. I’m glad I didn’t say yes and just go to Santa Fe, because I feel like they have things in place to teach me how to do this here and now. But it’s gonna be different. This is my—what is it that Brick called it?—my quarter house, my quarter-way house? I want to be able to be all right being me in Santa Fe with you.”

“You will be, I know.”

Lance took another deep breath. “Me too.”

“Good man.” He reached over to touch Lance’s non-pizza-y hand. “I think Abby ate your snack. Want another piece?”

Hooting, Lance nodded. “I can get it. You are so in trouble, Abby.”

She woofed gently at Lance as if to say, “Well, you weren’t eating it.”

Sloan watched Lance get up and go to the fridge to grab another leftover from the pizza box. “Getting low.”

“Oh, that will never do. I’ll make one tomorrow.” He’d gotten some cheap pizza crust mixes that made up in half an hour, and they were great for keeping the pizza costs down. They could both live on the stuff.

“Yum. I mean, I love this delivery stuff, but you make a great homemade pizza.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Lance sat back down, munching away. “It’s true. You have the sauce-to-crust ratio right, and I love that you use green olives.”

“I know right? Just the best salty goodness.” He loved green olive pizza.

“Everything is better when you make it. Though I willmiss Tex-Mex. New Mexican isn’t the same.”

“No shit. Don’t tell anyone I agree with you.” Though Lance wouldn’t miss Texas barbecue or Whataburger. They had both of those in New Mexico, and they had Blake’s Lotaburger, which was amazing.

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