Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Text Thread.
Dermot: How are you feeling today?
Maggie: Better when I noticed the bouquet of flowers by the register. The card just read “D.” Is that for Doctor or Dermot?
Dermot: It’s for Dermot. Me. I got them for you.
Maggie: Phew, I thought it was for Dog, as in Kip.
Dermot: They’re from him too, but mostly me. Since I have opposable thumbs and can type in my bank information.
Maggie: I bet Kip was jealous.
Dermot: He was, truly. It’s hard not having thumbs.
Maggie: I can’t imagine. I love my thumbs.
Dermot: They’re needed for lots of things. A thumbs-up.
Maggie: Hitchhiking.
Dermot: For thumbprints.
Maggie: For wrapping gum around.
Dermot: ? Really? I wrap mine around my forefinger.
Maggie: Jeez, Dermot, you’re doing it all wrong.
Dermot: Damn, you’ll need to show me.
Maggie: Done.
Maggie: Dermot?
Dermot: Yes?
Maggie: Thank you for the flowers. They made my day.
Dermot: That was my goal.
Maggie: <3
Monday, 3:30 p.m.
Maggie: How was your morning?
Dermot: Kid puked on me, an older gentleman bent over and showed me his butthole without even a damn warning, and Tenille yelled at me for being on my phone.
Maggie: Oh no. Were you texting someone?
Dermot: Yeah, but she’s worth getting yelled at for.
Maggie: He-he.
Maggie: Sorry you had to see an old man’s butthole.
Dermot: It’s okay. When I left the room, I had a text from this really hot chick eating a mozzarella stick.
Maggie: Dermot! You have to go to the bar and get these sticks! They’re so good!
Dermot: Yeah, I need to.
Tuesday, 8:23 a.m.
Dermot: Have a great morning.
Maggie: You too! No buttholes today!
Dermot: As much as I hope you’re right, I’m not na?ve.
Maggie: Fingers crossed for you.
Dermot: You’re doing God’s work.
Tuesday, 12:13 p.m.
Dermot: What are you eating for lunch?
Maggie: Ham and cheese my mommy made me.
Dermot: Spoiled. I’m eating a protein bar because Tenille is working me like a dog.
Maggie: She’s a tough cookie. Want me to bring you a sandwich?
Dermot: It’s okay. I have an appointment in ten.
Maggie: Fine, but question. How many books do you have on your Tbr? I had a girl just come in with 600. Like, is she even reading?
Dermot: LOL. Right. I have about sixty, but I make a list at the beginning of the year and force myself to read them all before I am able to read anything new I see.
Maggie: That is a solid way of doing it. I don’t have a Tbr.
Dermot: No way.
Maggie: Truly. I just read what I see. Total mood reader here.
Dermot: I couldn’t imagine. I need a plan.
Maggie: You? Need a plan? I don’t believe you.
Dermot: Har-har-har.
Tuesday, 12:47 p.m.
Dermot: Hey, Maggie.
Maggie: Yes, Dermot?
Dermot: Thank you for the ham and cheese.
Maggie: You’re welcome. I made it myself.
Dermot: No wonder it tastes so good.
Tuesday, 4:00 p.m.
Dermot: No buttholes today!
Maggie: Oh, thank God!
Maggie: What does your night hold?
Dermot: Reading, and hopefully texting you.
Maggie: You could call.
Dermot: Now?
Maggie: Now.
Dermot is calling…
Wednesday, 7:00 a.m.
Dermot: Kip wants to know if you want to take him on a walk.
Maggie: Now?
Dermot: Yeah, if you’re not busy.
Maggie: Yeah. I can meet him downstairs. Can you ask him to bring his dad?
Maggie: Oh, and I get to hold the leash.
Maggie: Unless his dad wants to hold my hand.
Dermot: I’ll tell him to tell his dad.
Dermot: His dad said that he’s holding the leash, so he can hold your hand.
Dermot: If that’s okay.
Maggie: It’s more than okay.
Wednesday, 8:21 p.m.
Maggie: I’m out of the shower.
Dermot is calling…
Thursday, 3:22 p.m.
Dermot: Have fun at your parents’.
Maggie: Thanks!
Maggie: We’re making sourdough. Do you eat it?
Dermot: Bread? Yes, I love bread.
Maggie: I’ll bring you some!
Dermot: Oh! Thanks. I haven’t had fresh bread like that.
Maggie: Mom sells it at the market. You should go sometime.
Dermot: Yeah, I should.
Thursday, 3:42 p.m.
Maggie: Oh! Tell me you’ve preordered the new dragon shifter romance!
Dermot: I can’t admit I read that trash. And yes, of course I did. I’m not an uncultured swine.
Maggie: I knew it. I got it too. Now, I wait. What are you reading right now?
Dermot: That new Toni Aleo romance.
Maggie: Hockey romance or her small-town series?
Dermot: The small-town hockey romance series, duh.
Maggie: How dare I be so uneducated. I’m sorry.
Maggie: Question, though. For someone who doesn’t watch hockey, you read it?
Dermot: I have no clue how to play or even what happens, but I love a good romance.
Maggie: I should take you to a game.
Dermot: I’d go.