Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Friday morning arrived, and Vince was still flying high.
For the past three nights, he and Lace had not only spent hours exploring each other’s bodies, but had slept deeply after, entwined together like a couple of sated kittens.
Vince had never considered himself a cuddler before, but with Lace, he couldn’t seem to get enough. And it seemed, neither could she.
Of course, he knew that might all change come next Tuesday when Lace started her infusions again.
The week and a half off from her treatments had given her a tremendous boost in energy, and being the optimist she was, Lace was hoping she was over the hump of feeling like shit.
She was half way through her treatments, and he’d caught her giving herself pep-talks that the second half would be easier.
Vince sure hoped so.
He wasn’t as certain as Lace, but no matter what happened collaterally as she completed her regimen, he’d support her in every way possible.
If that meant metaphorically holding her hair while she barfed, he’d be there. If it meant no sex because she was worn out, he’d back off on physical contact, taking his cues from her. And if she didn’t want to sleep in the same bed…
Well, Vince wouldn’t like that at all, but this wasn’t about his needs. It was about Lace’s preferences.
If she needed space of any kind, he’d give it to her.
Lace had left a little over an hour ago, and since then Vince had showered, changed into his clown duds, and was scrolling on his phone, downing his second cup of coffee.
Statler would be arriving soon to start sheet-rocking and blue-boarding since his plumber, “Pipes”, and his electrician, “Dizzy”, had both finished their roughs the previous day.
Which meant that the space would begin to look like an actual bathroom again, instead of a hole in the house.
Vince had no complaints. Things were moving along very quickly.
Yesterday, he’d actually brought home a slew of samples from which Lace could pick things out. Every item from tiles, to paints, to wallpaper had been spread out in front of her. She’d made her decisions so effortlessly, it boggled Vince’s mind.
He’d thought she’d go with the timeless black and white scheme she’d previously mentioned, and mostly she did, except she’d actually opted to add some color.
The floors were going to be a muted, black and white pattern, but the vanity she picked was a vibrant shade of blue. Stat would match that with a custom-built surround for the drop-in tub.
Three of the walls would end up white, but for the fourth, Lace had chosen a bright burst of blue and green flowered wallpaper that Vince never would have picked. But mocking up the finished room on her phone, Lace had shown him what the final product would look like, and he’d been blown away.
In the shower, the tiles on the floor were a light, natural stone with a green vein running through them, and the walls of the oversized walk-in would be tiled in a color that was called Crocodile; kind of a cross between the blues and greens she’d used elsewhere.
Vince never would have had the nerve to pick anything that dark, but Lace assured him it would look awesome, especially with the lights that Dizzy was installing.
Vince didn’t even try to put in an alternate opinion. He’d applauded everything she chose, and appreciated the hell out of it.
He never would have been able to do any of it on his own. If left to his devices, everything would have been white.
There was a perfunctory knock on the front door, and Stat walked in.
The man and his crew weren’t much holding to ceremony these days, coming and going as they pleased. The exception to that was when Lace was around.
Vince and Stat had talked it over, and both agreed that her down-time needed to be really down.
No noise. No commotion. So when the crew was working late and she’d walked in, they’d always packed things up and been on their way before she put on her hostess hat and started offering them food and drink.
Right now, however…
“Coffee?” Vince asked.
Statler nodded, but didn’t stop as he walked directly toward the coffee machine.
Tonka, who was with Stat today, simply dropped his tool bucket on the kitchen floor and grabbed a stool at the island, a few down from Vince.
“Just help yourself, Stat,” Vince teased with a grin. “I left enough for both of you.”
Statler snorted. “Because you want to ply us with the good stuff before you let us touch anything today.”
Yeah. Statler could be a bit of a grump before he had his caffeine.
“The arabica essence is the only thing that brings out the human in you,” Vince quipped.
“Asshole.” Statler flipped him off, then poured himself a cup.
“None for you, Tonk?” Vince asked.
Tonka, the big, burly muscle-guy of the group, grunted. “Nah. I downed a couple of those energy drinks from the gas station. Means I won’t need another fix for a couple hours.” He then raised his brows as if something had just occurred to him. “Why are you dressed like a clown?”
Right. This was the first time Tonka was seeing him in costume.
“On Fridays and Tuesdays, I visit kids at the hospital while they’re getting their chemo infusions,” he explained. “I do tricks, and make balloon animals.”
“Inez, right?” Tonka responded astutely. “Stat told me you’re looking into foster parenting, and she’s the one you’re trying to get. He didn’t tell me you’ve been visiting her dressed like a clown, though. How does Inez feel about having a foster daddy who’s got a squeaky…nose?”
Tonka guffawed, and it sounded strange.
Had Vince ever heard the man laugh before?
Tonk then did something that was totally out of character. He leaned over and tweaked Vince’s snout-appendage, eliciting a loud honk.
Vince snorted, then answered Tonk. “She thinks I’m cool.”
“Kids these days.” Tonka shook his head, going back to dour. “I hope when you’re out of make-up, your ugly mug doesn’t scare her.”
Vince sat back with a start.
Shit.
He hadn’t thought of that. Inez had never seen his real face. She’d only witnessed him in full regalia.
What if she didn’t like who he was without his overlying feathers?
“You know what?” Vince slapped his hands down on the counter, instantly standing up and making a decision. “I’m going to go in my civvies today.”
“Are you sure?” Stat grinned. “And do what? A song and dance?”
“Nope. I’ll do magic tricks. As myself. And twist balloons,” he asserted.
Statler responded to that immediately.
“I think it’s a good call,” he agreed. “That way you can see if Inez still likes and trusts you without all the war paint.” He shook his head.
“Although… Do kids actually like clowns these days? What with all the shit on the internet and in movies, I’d probably be scared out of my mind.
I’ve actually never had a soft spot for clowns,” he admitted with a shiver.
“Seriously? Do I look dangerous to you?” Vince gave a full, Micheal Jackson spin in his colorful raiments.
“Not really. But I know you, and I’m aware that you’re just a huge, cosplaying dork,” Stat taunted. “Let’s hope Inez can still see that absolute dorkiness once you ditch the camouflage.”
Vince flipped him the bird, then toed off his clown shoes while still defending his position.
“Well, even if she doesn’t warm up to me right away, I know she trusts Lace,” Vince demurred while plucking off his fake nose. He also removed his wig and placed it on the counter, then dropped his robes to the floor, kicking them away.
“Uh, Vince?” Tonka grunted. “I’m not sure bike-shorts are exactly right, either.”
“No duh, Sherlock. I’m going to change into my jeans,” Vince informed him. “I…”
His phone rang, deep in one of the pockets of the outfit he’d just discarded on the floor. He dove for it, scrabbling through the reams of material to find the thing.
“Flowers,” he mumbled, jettisoning the fake bouquet as he rummaged. “Rabbit…” He tossed it away by its stuffed ears. “Ahh, phone.” Vince grabbed it and looked at the screen.
He didn’t recognize the number.
“Vince here.”
“Mr. Sothard?” a woman’s voice asked.
“That’s me,” he answered, a little warily. “Who wants to know?”
He freaking hated telemarketers. Especially ones who knew his name.
“This is Midge Berlotti from DHHS.”
Vince immediately went on alert. This contact was being initiated much sooner than he’d expected.
“Oh. Ms. Berlotti,” he practically tripped over his tongue. “I’ve been hoping for a call.”
“Well, as for that, you and Ms. Heiger have been approved for everything so far. That includes both your background checks, and your classwork. What I’d like to do now is schedule a time for our first in person, home visit.”
Vince was excited, but knew this could get tricky.
“Well, I’m pretty sure Lace told you in the bios we had to write, that she’s not only working full time on a fishing boat, but on her one day off a week she’s undergoing chemotherapy,” he said, hoping for a modicum of understanding.
“I’m fully aware of that, and we’re willing to make arrangements that will suit everyone involved,” the woman clipped, all business.
If there was any empathy in Ms. Berlotti, she wasn’t wasting any of it on Lace’s situation.
Vince tried to control his snarl. “Well, she’s working every day until next Tuesday, and she generally doesn’t get home before eight or so at night,” he told the woman as succinctly as possible before going on.
“Tuesdays, she has her infusions in the morning, and is generally free by twelve-thirty if you’d like to aim for something then.
But I’ll warn you, she’s often pretty wiped out.
” Vince had seen Lace go both ways, so he wasn’t going to sugar-coat anything.
“The only variable in her schedule, if you can work with it, is when the weather gets bad and the fleets can’t go out.
In that case, Lace would have an entire day free, and a spontaneous appointment could easily be accommodated. ”
Ms. Berlotti huffed. “We don’t do spontaneous.”