Chapter 7 Definitely not my type #2
Cam’s eyes narrowed as he studied his niece. “What the hell were you studying? The airspeed velocity of unladen sparrows?”
Isla’s hands flew to her hair, and her eyes went wide. “I–I was trying on hats. Lots of hats. I have to go upstairs to…do something…for school.”
I bit my lip and refused to look at Laura as Isla dashed for the stairs.
“Take your laundry with you,” Laura called after her.
“Hey, Mom. Harry and I were gonna hang out with Hung and Dae-Ho tonight if that’s okay. Their parents are getting a big coffee bean order tonight at the coffee shop.”
It wasn’t a bad attempt. A distracted parent probably would have made the leap and assumed the boys were going to help unload the coffee bean order. But Laura was not a distracted parent.
“How did I get so lucky to have two boys who are so thoughtful and willing to help others?” Laura mused sweetly.
Levi frowned at his nephews as he munched another chip. Wes became suddenly fascinated by the hole in his sock, and Harry looked like he was going to throw up.
“That’s so generous of you to volunteer to help. Tell Mr. and Mrs. Jang that I’ll be in tomorrow to try the coffee you helped unload,” Laura said, twisting the motherly-guilt knife a little deeper.
The boys slunk out of the room with Melvin and Meetcute on their heels.
“Laundry,” Laura yelled.
“You know your sons are going to that bonfire tonight,” Levi said the second the boys were out of earshot.
“You know your niece was making out with a boy, right?” Laura shot back.
All three uncles looked pained.
“I liked it better when they were over five and under ten,” Gage complained.
“Back when they thought we were cool,” Cam said wistfully.
“Back when they knew we were smarter than them,” Levi added, crumpling up his empty bag of chips. “I’m gonna be pissed if I have to arrest my nephews tonight.”
“Imagine how you’ll feel arresting your brother for threatening Isla’s boyfriend with bodily harm,” Cam noted.
“How about I call in the order?” Hazel announced, steering the conversation back to pizza.
“I’ll pick it up,” I offered.
“I’ll go along,” Gage volunteered.
“Uh, why?” I asked.
Was I imagining the warning look Cam shot him? No. I was definitely not.
“Just being helpful,” he said, flashing Cam a shit-eating grin and rubbing his eye with his middle finger.
“How did we end up with all three dogs?” I complained as Melvin shoved his gigantic head between the front seats.
Meetcute and Nana were jogging from window to window in the back seat, pressing their noses against the glass.
Both tails wagged furiously in delight, and the entire truck cab smelled like hot doggy breath.
“You can’t take just one for a ride,” Gage explained as he pulled away from the curb. “That’s cruel and unusual.”
Nana stuck her snout around my headrest and gave my ear a slurp.
“Eww. Gross. Thank you for the wet willy, Nana.”
“Where does the whole ‘I’m terrified of animals’ thing come from?” Gage asked.
“I’m not terrified. I’m…skeptical.”
“And that feels like an important distinction to you?”
“Vital,” I agreed.
He glanced at me pointedly, and I rolled my eyes.
“Fine. I was eight and I wanted a dog so badly. Someone to keep me company when I was at home. My parents gave me all the usual parental and Manhattan reasons why I couldn’t have a dog.
I was too irresponsible. The apartment was too small.
Who was going to walk it in the middle of the night in the dead of winter, blah blah blah. But I was persistent.”
“I’m shocked,” he said.
“My mom realized I wasn’t going to give up, so she took me to visit a friend of hers in Brooklyn.
She told me they had a Pomeranian I could play with, and I was so excited.
I used my allowance to buy a bag of fancy dog treats and everything.
I was determined to make that dog my friend and prove to Mom I would be a good pet owner. ”
I glanced out the window as we passed the general store. Dusk was falling, and the town square was lit up with the cozy glow of streetlights and storefronts.
“Long story short, the Pomeranian was named Jaws, and he hated children, a fact my mother knew. He bit me twice. Once on the hand when I tried to give him a treat and then in the ankle when I ran away. I’ll never forget my mom laughing at me as I ran past her, crying and bleeding with a damn six-pound monster locked onto my Achilles.
‘See? This is why you can’t have a dog,’” I mimicked.
Gage shot me an alarmed look minus his usual condescension. “Jesus, Zoey, that’s not okay.”
I shrugged. I could understand how the story sounded to someone who had grown up with Pep and Frank Bishop as parents. “She set me up to fail to prove a point. She won, but at least I inconvenienced her by requiring stitches.”
Gage surprised the hell out of me by reaching under Melvin’s torso and squeezing my hand.
“No offense, but your mom sounds like an asshole,” he announced before quickly releasing my hand. But I still felt the current of his touch even after it was gone. Maybe I should talk him into bed after all.
“She kinda is. But you get used to it after thirty-some years. Subject change before it gets awkward. How are you? I mean with the whole ‘charges filed, preliminary hearing’ thing?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he said automatically as we passed Emilie Rump’s house. It stood out from its neighbors thanks to all the brown lumps of mangled potatoes on her front porch and walkway. Story Lake sure knew how to hold a grudge. I appreciated that.
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“It is what it is,” he said. “We’ll all be better when justice is served.”
His index and middle fingers silently drummed out a few beats on the steering wheel.
I could just imagine getting to a place where life was starting to feel normal-ish again, only to be reminded of wounds that had barely begun to heal. I wondered about the driver. Had she gone back to normal? Or had taking a life ruined her own?
My overinflated empathy wanted to point out that sometimes good people made mistakes. But Gage didn’t seem like the type who was willing to accept imperfection.
“Thanks for checking in on my sister, by the way. She doesn’t open the door to just anybody,” Gage said.
“Then I’m flattered. She seems like she’s doing okay.”
“It can be hard to tell with Larry. She’s tough on the outside, and she’s real good at hiding what’s going on inside.”
His fingers were still performing those tiny, almost imperceptible taps.
“She’s not the only one,” I guessed. “What’s up with Cam being mad about you volunteering to pick up dinner?”
Gage’s fingers stopped, then started again. “My idiot brother thinks there’s a danger of the two of us hooking up, imploding, and then ruining his wedding.”
I choked out a laugh. “Excuse me? We as in us?”
Gage let out a reluctant chuckle. “I think the wedding planning has warped his brain.”
“It’s laughable,” I insisted. “We couldn’t be more wrong for each other. You’re an uptight, calendar-worshipping nice guy.”
“And you’re messy, disorganized, impulsive, and late for everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s fight after we pick up the pizza.”
“It’s not a fight. It’s a discussion,” he said, as if that made even the slightest difference. “You have to admit we have nothing in common. You’re about as far from my type as exists.”
I scoffed in his general direction as we turned into Angelo’s parking lot.
“Back at you. If I wanted to be micromanaged, I’d go get a job with a time clock.
And you look like the idea of spontaneous fun would make you constipated.
Give me an exciting one-night stand with a finance guy just getting out of a messy relationship over ‘what are we having for dinner’ any day. ”
“Sounds stable and fulfilling,” Gage observed dryly, pulling into a spot at the back of the lot.
“Please. I’m not about to be judged by someone who probably has a picket fence tattoo somewhere on his body. A temporary one.”
“You don’t take anything seriously, do you?” he asked, turning off the engine.
“Oh, come on. Lighten up, Judgy McJudgerson.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand your logic.”
“Bullshit. You are absolutely judging me.”
Melvin sneezed violently.
“See? Even the dogs agree with me.”
“I’m just trying to wrap my head around you being Hazel’s best friend and doing what you do for a living and not believing in some kind of happily ever after. Seems kinda hypocritical if you ask me.”
“See? Judging,” I said, poking his shoulder with my finger.
Gage thumped his head against the seat. “Does every conversation have to be a challenge with you?”
I threw my hands in the air. “You’re the one making it challenging. I say I enjoy being single, and you accuse me of being a hypocrite. I mean, I thought you were a lawyer, not a judge.”
He closed his eyes and drummed his fingers on his thighs. God, I enjoyed riling him up. He made it so easy.
“Fine,” he said finally. “I apologize for making you feel judged.”
I reached over and squeezed his face. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“Every fucking conversation,” he muttered.
I took pity on him. “Look, happily ever after isn’t for everyone. You are someone who will celebrate your sixtieth wedding anniversary. I’m more of a ‘happy for now’ person. I don’t want to be tied down and have to build my life around someone else’s.”
I gripped my necklace like a talisman. I’d tried it once and gotten burned badly enough to learn my lesson.
There had been a time in my life when I’d wanted exactly what Gage did.
But not everyone got to have it all. Some of us had to make do with what was left.
But I was building a good life for myself, damn it, and I was having fun doing it.
There was no need to mope about what I couldn’t have.
“What do you want instead?”
Gage’s tone took me by surprise. He sounded sincerely curious.
My eyebrows winged up. “Honestly?”
“No point in lying, seein’ as how we’re both vaguely disgusted by each other and not looking to impress,” he teased.
“Excellent point, Attorney Man. Okay, here goes.” I took a deep breath.
“I want to be so good at what I do that no one can take it away or ignore it. I got fired before I moved here. I’m tired of people seeing me as just the mistakes I’ve made.
Of telling me that I’m too much or not enough.
I want to show them all they’re wrong, that they underestimated me.
I want them to realize they were the ones who made the mistake. ”
He nodded. “All right. How are you going to do that?”
“By launching Hazel’s book into the stratosphere and taking out billboards within a five-block radius of their office that say who’s the loser now?” I joked.
Gage shook his head, a soft almost smile playing on the corners of his mouth. “What do you want after you’ve accomplished that?”
I blinked visions of revenge-themed billboards out of my head. “Huh?”
“After you prove them all wrong? What’s next?”
“I don’t know specifics. I just know I want to have a damn good time doing whatever I want.”
He opened his door, then paused to look at me. “You are definitely not my type, Zoey. But I hope you get what you want.”