Page 49 of Drilled (Dad Bod Contracting 2)
Ryder and Jesse squeeze through the sliding glass door right then, overhearing the tail end of the conversation.
“And speaking for a vast majority of heterosexual males on planet earth, and probably more than a few women of the other persuasion”— Ryder lifts his glass in a toast, his entire posture and voice reverent and serious—“I say, thank you sweet baby Jesus for that.”
Jesse clinks his glass against Ryder’s. “Amen to that, brother.”
We’re all laughing now, because the men are just so serious about it, and it’s funny and endearing.
Franco pushes in, then, followed by the girls, who are chattering in overlapping chorus. “Make way, make way,” Franco says. “Mr. Snakeypants wants to say hi to everyone.”
He assumes center stage in the kitchen, a three-foot-long garter snake in both hands, one hand pinioning just behind the creature’s jaws to keep it from biting or escaping.
Laurel dances back, shrieking. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would you bring a live snake into the kitchen? Get it out!”
Franco just laughs. “Oh calm down, it’s just a garter snake. He’s totally harmless. His name, according to Miss Ella here, is Mr. Snakeypants. Which, personally, I feel is a wonderfully appropriate, and not at all suggestive name, for a snake.”
Ella, the younger of the girls is dancing in circles, chanting, “Mis-ter Snakey-pants! Mis-ter Snakey-pants!”
Nina, trying to be more subdued now that there’s a larger adult audience, reaches out to touch the top of the snake’s head. “He slithered right over the top of my foot and didn’t even bite me. I was a little scared—but not too much—because then he just sat there on my foot looking up at me, so I called for Uncle Franco, who caught him and he was chasing us with him because snakes are kind of yucky, but he’s nice and not too yucky, even though his skin feels weird.”
“Snakes are yucky, full stop,” Laurel says. “Now put Mister Snakeypants outside before I faint.”
Ryder is laughing. “Let me see him.” He reaches out, carefully takes the snake by the back of the head from Franco, letting the rest of the long body wrap around his arm. He moves over to Laurel, who dances around the island, screaming, until Ryder traps her in a corner of the kitchen. “Just calm down a second. Jesus! Look at him! He’s not even doing anything.”
“I don’t care! It’s a snake!” Laurel hisses.
Ryder is keeping his distance, but not letting her escape. “Have you ever touched a snake?”
“No, and I don’t plan to.”
“Just try it,” Ryder says, his voice smooth and low. “He won’t hurt you. I’ve got him, so he can’t. But he probably wouldn’t anyway.”
“No.”
“Just touch the top of his head.”
Laurel meets Ryder’s eyes, hesitating. “You’re sure he won’t bite me?”
Ryder makes sure the snake’s head is pointing away from Laurel. “See? He can’t. I’ve got him.”
“It’s okay, Laurel,” Ella says. “I was scared too, but it’s kind of tickly, that’s all.”
Laurel reaches out, yanks her hand back, and then steps closer to Ryder, moving up behind him and peering out around his bicep. “You’re sure you’ve got him?”
“Yes!” Ryder laughs. “And if he’s gonna bite anyone, it’ll be me.”
“What if he does?” Laurel asks, still hesitating with her fingertip an inch from the snake’s body.
“It’ll hurt, I’ll get a tetanus shot, have a couple sweet puncture wounds for a few weeks, and that’s it. They’re no threat to people.” He grins at her. “I’ve been bitten before, actually, several times.”
“By a garter snake like this one?”
“Ummm, no. Well, yeah, by a garter once when I was a kid.” He pauses for effect. “I got bit by a copperhead while swimming in a lake in Louisiana, and by a rattler while hiking in Colorado. And by a few other harmless ones other times.”
Laurel stares at him. “I can’t decide if that makes you a badass or a dumbass.”
“A little of both?” Ryder says.
While all this is going on, I’ve somehow ended up standing next to Franco. He washed his hands and is drying them on a handful of paper towel. His eyes are on me, and mine on his, as if neither of us can seem to help it.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
“Hey.”
He gestures at the reptile in Ryder’s hands. “You say hi to Mr. Snakeypants yet?”
“I’m good.” I can’t help a smirk. “That name was your idea, wasn’t it?”
He laughs. “No! I swear. It was all Ella.”
Silence descends between us, even with the commotion all around us: Ryder and the girls take the snake outside to let him go, Laurel is squealing again and everyone else is trooping outside to find places at James’s extra wide, extra long picnic table.
Which leaves Franco and I alone in the kitchen, just staring each other down, not saying a damn word.
“Why’d you have to go chasing snakes, Franco?” I murmur. “I was doing so well at ignoring you.”
