Page 81 of Doc Showmance
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Way to make a compliment weird.”
I got out and wove around gravesites to find Joley, Bruno, and Marino draped over Jamal’s gravestone. To others it might look disrespectful. To me, it was three people at peace with the resting site of the person we were here to remember.
About a half hour later, we’d finished our beers in honor of Jamal. We remembered his big heart, how crappy he was at school, and how many more times he ended up in detention than the rest of us. It had been a badge of honor to carry one of the wooden placards designating detention down to the south end of the school.
As we finished, Marino asked, “Did your boyfriend come with you?”
“I think he’s in his car.” I squinted at him. “Why?”
“Need to ask him about Pepper.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Marino loved his chameleons, even doted on them. He invested every bit of extra money into their habitat and care.
“I think she got sand in one of her eyes. You guys finish cleaning up here while I go talk to him about her.”
“Sure, we’ll clean up your mess,” I yelled at his retreating back. “Great excuse to avoid cleaning.”
“I won’t tell him too many secrets,” he shot back. “Like the fact you’re addicted to cake bakeoff shows?”
“Don’t give away shit like that. I have a reputation to maintain.”
31
Ian
“Hey, Ian, I’ve got a question about my chameleon.” Marino leaned next to me against my Jeep in his skinny jeans and flannel shirt. I tried not to hold a grudge against the gambling brother for creating the reason Amber felt she had to participate in our fake showmance.
“Is she coming back to the car soon?” I asked.
“They’re wrapping up and cleaning up.”
“What’s wrong with your chameleon?”
“I think she got sand in her eyes. She’s holding one closed.”
“You rinsed it well, I assume.”
“Didn’t help.”
“She might have sand trapped under her eyelid or an ulcer. I should probably take a look. Have Amber bring it in tomorrow.”
“Did Amber have fun partying it up at the glamor Thanksgiving event?” His judgmental tone, as if she wasn’t allowed to have a life outside of caring for him, grated against the one nerve that didn’t get irritated on the commercial flight where I’d been pancaked between a snoring overweight man and a woman who wouldn’t stop talking about her Pomeranian.
I managed to say neutrally, “Not sure fun or partying are the right words for it. My relatives are difficult.”
“I still can’t believe she chose you and going up there over cooking us dinner. We had to order pizza, which sucked. Maybe she’ll make up for it by cooking for us tonight.”
Red hazed my brain. I lashed out with a hand on his chest to press him tight to the car. “What the hell is wrong with you? After all she’s done for you? Paid off for you? Can’t you be happy for her that she might be living a life that doesn’t involve playing mommy to you?”
“Can’t breathe.”
I wasn’t pressing that tight, but I eased up on the wimp a little bit.
“What’s going on here?” Amber asked.
“Nothing.” I pushed away from Marino and shot him a warning glare. “You want a ride to your house, Amber, or should I unload your suitcase?”
She squinted, clearly wanting the full details. “I think I’ll take that ride.”
