Chapter 3 #2
“So, yeah.” Heath tossed his beer can in the recycling. “Once this deal closes tomorrow, I’ll have a lot more time.”
“I’m sure you have something in the pipeline,” Beckett said, walking back into the kitchen.
Sky glanced up from the stove. “Hey, everything good with Parker?”
“Everything’s good. You mind if I borrow Heath? Park will be done in a minute.”
“Nope, he’s all yours.”
Married couples were so weird. It seemed like there was subtext to everything they said. Like you were always missing an in-joke.
“Come on in the office, Heath? I want to ask you about something.”
Work. Of course. Friday night and Beckett wanted to talk about work. So, dinner was a ruse to get him here to work late?
So damn unfair. He was here for company and enchiladas.
They went to the office, and Beckett smiled at him. “So… I have a bit of a problem.”
“Sure. Like I said, I’ll have some time on my hands after this deal closes tomorrow. Assuming it closes.” He flopped into a comfy chair in the corner of the room.
“It’s really not about work. It’s more personal.” Now that was odd. Beckett really wasn’t personal.
Oh. Crap.
“Shit, are you okay? I mean—sorry, I don’t want to be nosy but, whatever you need, you know I’m here.”
“No, no. I’m fine. We had a bit of a leak in the guest room. It’s a problem, and Parker just showed up. Usually, wouldn’t be an issue because he brings his travel trailer, and we just assumed, when we told him he could come, that his fifth wheel would be here. But it’s not.
“He’s having family trouble, and he no longer has his trailer, you see. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas. So, I was wondering if there was any way on earth you could possibly let him use your guest room.
“He’s very polite, very clean. He’s got his own truck, so he’ll be bringing himself over here a lot. I just need a place for him to sleep.”
He blinked at Beckett as everything became oh, so clear, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
Beckett never asked for anything, and he did have a lot of extra room but…
“So, let me get this straight. You invited me to dinner to butter me up so you could ask me to take in a stray friend? No wait, a stray friend of Skyler’s. A… cowboy?”
“No. I asked you to supper to eat enchiladas. Parker is willing to sleep in the recliner downstairs or to get a hotel room. We thought he’d be more comfortable with friends.”
“Wow, man. I’m not an asshole. I’m not going to make one of your friends sleep in a recliner. Damn.” Look at Beckett calling him out. “But…what am I going to do with a cowboy?”
“Give him a cup of coffee and smile at him. Talk to him. He’s one hell of a storyteller.”
He nodded. “Sad he has nowhere to go for Christmas, huh?”
“More than nowhere to go. His mother threw him out. Took his travel trailer. Everything.” Beckett looked a little queasy about it.
“God. That’s… I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” He could only imagine how that felt. His family had always been supportive. “Yeah. He should totally stay with me. It’s fine.”
“Thank you. Seriously. I just feel so bad for him. He’s a good guy.” Beckett snorted softly. “You know, I used to hate him. Like absolutely hate him.”
He wasn’t sure whether that was encouraging or not. “I guess I’ll reserve judgment then. I’m sure it will take him some time to settle.”
There was an unholy screeching sound followed by loud cat hissing, and Parker came flying into the room, panting. “Walter found me.”
Heath tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was hopeless. “Walter…?”
“Walter. That damn cat…”
A furious howling set up, Walter absolutely homicidal.
Instinctively, and a little absurdly, he grabbed Parker by the arm and pulled the man behind him.
“Walter Thaddeus Alan Jackson!” Skyler’s voice was coming from the kitchen, but it silenced the whole house. Everyone froze. “Go to your bed.”
“Does that actually work?” he whispered to Beckett.
Beckett shrugged. “Most of the time.”
Walter glared but slunk off, tail puffed up like a bottle brush.
Heath blinked back at Parker, finding striking blue eyes under the shock of blond hair. “What did you ever do to him?”
“Nothing. I swear to God, the only thing I ever did was try to feed that son of a bitch.”
“What the hell did you feed him?” He snorted a laugh, tried to contain it, then gave into the giggles.
“I remember that.” Beckett chuckled.
“Look, I was new at this whole cat thing, and his person, his dad, was all broken, and I had to call Beckett who hated me, and it was just a shitty situation. I didn’t do anything to that damn cat except be worried near him.”
Beckett elbowed him. “See? I told you I hated him.”
“You did tell me that.”
“Parker was a big help during Skyler’s wreck. I got over myself.” Beckett put a hand on Parker’s shoulder. “I think Walter just associates all that worry and stress about his person with you.”
“Uh-huh. Either that or he’s possessed by a violent demon and wants to steal my soul.” Parker shrugged. “Six of one, half dozen of the other.”
“Probably just as well you’re not staying here, he might scratch your nuts off in your sleep.” Heath deadpanned that one, hoping for a laugh. He wasn’t good at one-liners, but even he knew a hook when he heard one.
Parker guffawed, the laugh strong and honest, and it was sweet as hell. It felt good, knowing someone thought he was funny.
He got a shake of the head from Beckett, who obviously didn’t know a good joke when he heard one. He chuckled though, thinking he and Parker might make it work until Beckett and Skyler got the flood or whatever under control.
“You need another beer, man?” Heath gave Parker a smile.
“Yeah. I’ll take one more.” Parker was a little like Sky, and he could only remember Sky having more than two beers… once?
Maybe?
“Good. Me too.” He wouldn’t be having more than two either, he had to drive after all, and these remote Vermont roads were windy.
“Come on, guys, dinner is ready. Walter will be good. Charlie? Get your sister’s hands washed please. Noah, use the upstairs bathroom and scrub those fingers.”
The kids scattered as the adults gathered in the kitchen. Heath felt like he should be doing something other than standing around. “Can I help?”
“Sure. Grab the squeezy sour cream. The kids will want it for sure. Oh, and the bottle of ranch. Only Charlie will eat the spicy ranch.”
“Ranch and squeezy—ah, got it.”
Beckett pointed to the dining room. “Go sit, Park, I’m right behind you.”
Heath closed the fridge door in time to catch Beckett giving Skyler a thumbs up and a big grin. Skyler made a celebratory gesture in return with his fist.
Huh. They seemed awfully excited about the enchiladas.
“All clean!” Noah came running in and screeched to a halt about two inches from him. “Sorry, Mr. Heath.”
“No worries. Go sit. I’ll follow you.”
“Okay, did you know that Santa Claus is coming? Santa Claus is coming. He’s gonna bring presents, and I’m gonna get a bike.”
“You hope you’re going to get a bike. You still have some time left to be naughty or nice.”
“No. No, Pappy tell him! I asked real good! I write-d a letter.” Noah stared at Beckett with huge eyes.
Beckett put a hand on Noah’s head and looked at him. “Noah’s right in this case. He wrote a kind letter and asked very nicely, and Santa wrote back and said not to worry, he’d get a bike this year.”
Oops. “Oh, that’s special. That must have been some letter. Santa doesn’t always have time to write back.” That was a good save, right?
“I worked hard. I spelled big words.”
Charlie rolled her eyes, but he noticed she didn’t argue.
“That’s so cool. I know your dads must be proud of you.” He set the salad dressing down on the table.
“We so are.” Beckett pulled out a chair. “Sit everybody. Let’s eat.”
“It smells so good, Sky. Thanks, man.” Parker smiled and nodded to Sky. “I love when you make enchiladas.”
“They’re a family favorite for sure.”
Beckett waited for Skyler to sit down and then raised his glass. “To family.”
Heath followed suit, very ready to drink to that. He caught Parker’s eye, since they were going to be roommates for a while. “Hear, hear.”