Chapter 13
Chip
I cursed inwardly when the elevator stopped at the fourth floor, the doors opened, and Tim Pegg was standing outside. He was in jeans and a navy fleece with the RFD logo embroidered over the heart, and there was a mark on his forehead from his injury.
“I’m back here for a wound check,” he said as if I needed to know, and I nodded.
I’m not sure why he was telling me, and I didn’t like making small talk.
At least the fluorescent over our heads held steady on the way down, which was something.
Sable was pressed to my side. I was pressed to the wall with Tim, and the smell of someone’s hospital coffee lingered.
The doors opened at the parking level. He gestured for me to go first, so I did, and headed for row C, third from the end, near the southwest column. Tim kept pace with me and stopped a car before mine.
He cleared his throat as he stopped.
“Hey. Chip… can I… can I talk to you for a second?”
I considered saying no. I really did. But Sable was leaning in steadily, not pressed in alarm. Dane was upstairs with a brain that’d hit a brick wall. And Tim’s brain hit that same brick wall right next to him, although not as hard.
I stopped walking. Sable stopped. “Okay,” I said.
“I owe you an apology. I owe Dane one too,” he said. “For… Christ, all of it. The chipmunk shit.”
“Chipmunk?”
“Chip ‘n’ Dale.”
“Like a cabinet?” I was so confused.
“No… I mean… the cartoon, the way I… ” He looked at the ceiling of the parking deck, where some pipe was sweating condensation onto the concrete in slow drips.
“I went through the department sensitivity training. Every hour of it. I passed the goddamn quiz at the end. I just… I don’t know if I did it for real.
You know? I just sat there. Said the words back. ”
I was still trying to understand the chipmunk cabinet reference.
“And then Dane. And then you. And I just… kept on like I always had. Like… ” He shook his head.
“I come from the kind of family where being gay is the punchline. My dad and older brother are big football guys. My younger one plays D-One college baseball. Christmas at our house, every other thing out of someone’s mouth is a joke or a…
” He stopped himself and swallowed. “Anyway. I never checked it. I never… I told myself nobody was getting hurt. I told myself Dane was… I don’t know.
Soft. Whatever. I told myself I didn’t even like him. ”
A car alarm went off two rows over. Sable’s ears flicked and settled. He waited. He started again.
“And then he… ” He made a gesture at his head, at the bandage. “He saved my life. Dove me into a doorway. I’d be hamburger in a body bag if he hadn’t. He’s a good guy. And the people who say the shit I’ve been saying? Fuck those guys. Fuck them. What is wrong with us?”
He stopped to breathe.
“So, I called my dad and my brothers because I figured if there was ever going to be a time to speak up, it was when I’d nearly gotten blown into next week.
I told them the man who saved my life is gay, and he’s the best one of us.
I’ve been a piece of shit about it, and I’m done with how this family talks.
I also said I was done with the jokes and not to say that around me anymore. ”
He stopped, and I don’t think it was because he wanted me to answer.
“And they… ” He made a face. “They went quiet. My dad went quiet. My older brother Jimmy went quiet. The youngest one, Ollie, literally just… handed the phone off, like the phone was a hot potato, like… ” He laughed, short, no humor in it.
“And I haven’t heard back from any of them, and I don’t know what it means for like…
Thanksgiving, Christmas, my place there.
My mom is somewhere in the middle, I think, but my dad’s the loud one.
And if Dad doesn’t say anything, nobody else is going to be the first. And…
fuck. Fuck. I’m going to lose my family over this, and I—”
He cut himself off and looked down at Sable. Sable looked back. Then he glanced up at me.
“Not your problem,” he said. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all of this. You really don’t. I just… sorry.”
“I don’t like you very much,” I said after a pause. He didn’t flinch, only nodded, once.
“That’s fair.”
“Other people’s families are difficult, and I’m not the person who can help you with that. But… ” I waited a second. Sable shifted her weight. “If you aren’t mean to Dane anymore, I think I could maybe learn to like you.”
He huffed. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s… yeah.”
“Okay.”
We stood there for another beat. A car alarm two rows over cycled and stopped on its own.
“Have a good day, Tim.”
“Bye.”
I walked to my car. Sable walked by my side.
I unlocked the passenger door first because Sable’s seat belt harness latched on that side.
She jumped into the car, and I clipped her in.
I put my hand on her ribcage and felt her breathing slow and steady, then rested my forehead briefly against the doorframe and breathed with her.
I drove home.