Chapter 27 Wolfe
TWENTY-SEVEN
WOLFE
Ijog up behind Archangel to find him gripping his chest, but he’s not upset. He’s…laughing?
The fuck?
And then the scene registers. His seventy-seven-year-old grandfather is yelling at a group of firefighters. The head one is trying to talk him down, but Walt is not letting up. He’s gesturing at a tree and saying something about Terror.
Oh!
His Persian is up the great big candler oak. His grandfather is an odd one for a Southern man. Not only does he collect and restore cars, but he also breeds Persian cats. That’s where our cat came from. The first time Walt met Seaborn, he handed him Venom, and the rest is history.
Angel says he gets lonely on his big property by himself since his wife died, so he has “hobbies” to keep him sane. Can’t a man just like collecting cats and tinkering with cars?
“Grandad, if they say they can’t get the truck close enough to the oak to use the ladder, I don’t think they are lying,” Archangel tries to jump in.
“Back in my day—”
I laugh to myself and go to take a closer look at the situation.
“I might be able to get her,” I say to myself, grabbing the branch easily within reach and swinging myself onto it.
I loved climbing this tree when we were kids.
We’d spend a week at a time here in the summer with his grandad.
They’d work on cars, and the rest of the time we’d explore the property.
It was the only time I got to run around and be a kid.
Those are some of my best memories from childhood. Before it all fell apart.
I easily get close to where the cat is and realize I didn’t ask a crucial question. “Hey, Walt?”
The argument stops, and everyone is looking for me.
I cup my hands over my mouth and call, “I’m up here.”
“What’s up, Wolfe?” Walt asks.
“What’s the cat’s name?”
“Terror,” he calls back. “After my late wife.”
Archangel rolls his eyes, and the firemen fight laughter.
“I got her.”
“Can you get down with her?” Archangel asks.
“Guess we’ll see.” I edge closer to Terror, speaking to her nice and coaxing like.
“If you hurt yourself, Coach will never forgive me.”
“Fuck off. I can climb a tree.” I get her in my arms, and while she’s not happy, she’s keeping it nice. I glance down, looking for an easy way to get back down one-handed. It takes me a bit, but I manage to make it back to the ground.
“See, my grandson did more than you whole lot in a fraction of the time.” Walt takes the cat, still ranting at the poor firemen.
I give them a sympathetic look as they pack up.
“No wonder you weren’t answering mom’s calls,” Archangel mutters as we follow Walt inside.
“I didn’t have the energy to deal with her and them.” Walt goes to his fridge and gets out a Dr. Pepper and an energy drink, giving me one and Archangel the other without asking.
I smile and crack that baby open before giving Walt a one-armed hug. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I was starting to lose hope in your whole generation!”
I laugh. “I’d say something about being a southern boy and knowing how to fix a problem, but they are too.”
“They got all these damn rules and regulations nowadays. Not really their fault.” He waves me off, going to set Terror on her cat tree.
“How’d she get out?” Archangel asks, leaning against the island.
“Got through the screen somehow.”
Archangel sets his drink aside and springs into action. “Let me fix it.”
Walt gestures at the window. “I closed it. No need to get sweaty re-screening when I’m sure your mother is expecting us back.”
Archangel rolls his eyes. “Do you really want to be there all day?”
“No, but I have my own car to leave, and I won’t let her sending my favorite grandkid prevent that.”
I laugh into my Dr. Pepper.
Walt glances over curiously. “So are you going to be my grandson-in-law?”
I choke on the DP.
Walt waits for me to recover, smiling. Archangel is laughing behind him. I want to flip him off.
“Are we getting married?” I say more to Archangel.
“You tell me, baby.” He’s grinning.
“Are you saying I have to propose?” I blink, acting offended, then cross my arms. “We are both men. You could get down on your knee.”
“I get on my knees enough,” Archangel throws back with a grin.
I grasp near my throat like I’m clutching pearls. “In front of your grandfather?”
“Seriously, Wilder.” But Walt is laughing.
He winces at the name but doesn’t say anything. I wish he would tell them to quit using it. “I’m sure he’s heard so much worse.”
“And done much, much worse. I was a bit of a scoundrel in my time.”
“Did grandma know you were a skirt chaser?” Archangel asks playfully.
“Not just skirts. I chased boys and girls and everything in between, and your grandmother loved it.” Walt winks at me.
Archangel gasps, hand covering his mouth, eyes as big as dinner plates. “Are you bisexual?”
“I am,” Walt says like it’s not a big deal.
“Me too.” I hold out a fist for him to bump.
Walt bumps it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Archangel looks almost hurt, and we drop our hands.
“Your mother didn’t want me to. Actually, it was more than that. She told me she’d not let you come over here if I put those ideas in your head, but it’s time, you know. You’re a grown man and clearly picked pretty good for yourself.” Walt winks at me again.
I grin, doing a little shimmy as I finish off my drink.
Archangel sits down on a stool, clearly trying to process it. “I can’t believe mom acts the way she does when her own father is bisexual.”
“Her and your father have always been…” Walt trails off.
“Zealots. I know.”
He sighs. “We should probably get going before your mom sends those firemen back to do a welfare check.” Walt blows out his cheeks. “Do you need another drink?” He’s pushing another into my hands before I can say no.
“Do you want to ride back with him?” I say as we walk toward the Range Rover.
Archangel thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “We need to talk.”
“Way to ruin my entire DP mood. I’m going to go ride with your grandfather.” I walk toward his car, and he grabs my shirt, yanking me back.
“Get in the fucking car.”