CHAPTER SIX #2
DogPerson158: Age is just a number, right? It’s not a problem for me. I’d just forgotten. You were actually alive before the internet? Before everyone had a cell phone?
Handsyguy37: I’m very worldly and experienced. I know how to survive without technology.
DogPerson158: Really? I’m so reliant on it, I don’t think I could get anywhere without a GPS or the ability to check in with my family from anywhere.
Neither can I, and I feel like shit for having to lie to her. Even though if I do this right, she’ll never know she was talking to me and not Sebastian.
Handsyguy37: Honestly, we got some of that stuff around the time I started driving. But I did learn to read a map. Or at least print directions from the Internet. I’d be good to have on your team during the apocalypse.
I shove my plate away, my meal finished. Sebastian would be amazing in an apocalypse. I’d be terrible. The first one eaten by zombies, because I can’t find my way anywhere without a robot voice telling me where to turn.
DogPerson158: You seem pretty confident there’s going to be an apocalypse.
Sebastian is sure. Levi likes to be prepared for every eventuality. The two of them stockpile canned goods and do things like learning to start fires with rocks and twigs.
I’m more optimistic about the future than my brothers. But DogPerson isn’t talking to me. She’s talking to Sebastian.
I don’t want to think about why that makes me sad.
Handsyguy37: Not going to happen this week or anything…
DogPerson158: Why? What makes it seem so likely?
Shit. I’ve never asked Sebastian why he believes in the end of the world so completely. I try to get into his head.
Handsyguy37: Bad stuff happens every day. Better to be prepared, to make sure I can protect the people I love, than to take a chance of failing them.
That actually fits. Not that Sebastian would ever admit it, but he’s always looking out for us, even if he’s an asshole about it.
DogPerson158: Believe me, I get it. But one thing I’ve learned the hard way is that holding on too tight is a good way to get scratched.
I laugh, picturing her squeezing that new cat of hers and winding up with scratches. I agree with her, but Sebastian wouldn’t.
Handsyguy37: I’ll take that under advisement. Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to get home. I see several customers eying up my table.
DogPerson158: You’re at a restaurant? Which one?
DogPerson158: Don’t answer that. No personal details. Have a good night.
I chuckle as I drop cash on the table. Handsyguy37: You too, sweetheart.
I’ve sent the message before it’s really registered that I called her sweetheart. I have a fondness for this woman that isn’t at all appropriate or safe.
***
For once, I walk into Levi’s house and no one is fighting. It’s a nice change, but it sets me on edge. Did my brothers finally just kill each other?
A shout from the den has me heading in that direction, and my shoulders drop as laughter explodes. It’s been way too long since we’ve all hung out and had fun together, and I am so here for it.
Except, there’s only Cash in the den. He’s playing a video game with a headset on, talking and laughing with whoever’s on the other end. My brothers aren’t with him. They aren’t having fun together.
Cash sees me, asks whoever he’s playing with to hold on, and pushes back his headset while pausing his game. That’s how much he loves me. He pauses his video game for me.
“What’s up? You looking for me?”
“We need to have a family game night. Why don’t we do that anymore?”
Cash shrugs. “Probably because we all live together and work together and are sick of each other by the end of the day.”
“We’re growing apart. I’m scheduling a family game night.”
He gives me a sympathetic look even as he pulls his headset back on. “No one’s going to show up.”
He goes back to his game, and I wander the house, looking for Seb and Ry.
I find Sebastian in the dining room, scowling at the computer screen.
“Finish the cabinet install?” he asks without looking up.
“It’s done. Another happy customer.”
He grunts, and his scowl intensifies. “Tell Cash to quit fucking around and find us a receptionist. We’re drowning in missed calls and paperwork.”
“I can help.”
He finally looks up, eyes wide. “You have the time?”
“I can make the time.”
He grabs a notebook and tosses it over. “Call these people back.”
The top page has numbers and names scribbled on it. Sebastian is so old-school. “It’s after eight, man. I’ll call them in the morning.”
“When they’ll be at work?” he asks. “Some of them have called three times. Just try them.”
I settle in, pull out my phone, and start making calls.
When I get a customer on the line and they want to talk dates, Sebastian slides the laptop over and I schedule them in the calendar.
I don’t know what he’s doing while I’m chatting up customers.
He could be ordering supplies or running the numbers on our in-go and out-go.
The work to be done for this company never ends.
Which is probably why Sebastian never stops working.
“We should start family game night back up,” I say, once I’m halfway through the list.
Sebastian grunts noncommittally.
“I can’t tell. Is that a yes or a no?”
“Not up to me,” he says, his voice gruff. “I do enough bossing at work. I’m not going to force my brothers to hang out after work.”
He doesn’t look at me. His expression is entirely closed off, showing zero emotion. For the first time, I’m immensely glad not to be in his position. He’s just as miserable about bossing us all around as we are being bossed around.
“If I organize it and browbeat everyone into showing up, would you enjoy a family game night?”
He looks up, and the pure exhaustion in the shadows under his eyes and the droop of his eyelids hits me hard in the gut. “I’m not sure there’s time for it, but I think it would be good for morale.”
I nod. “You only have to show up if there’s time, how about that? Family dinner on Sundays and game nights on Thursday. I’ll work on getting it set up.”
“Sure.” He turns his attention back to his work.
“What else can I do?" I ask half an hour later. “I’ve called everyone on the list.”
He looks at me, brows high in surprise. “No shit?”
I suppress my annoyance at being doubted. I goof around, but I work my fucking ass off too. “I called every person and set up appointments with everyone who answered. Give me something else to do.”
“We need more than one fucking laptop to work off of,” he says, annoyed.
“You can send things to my phone. What have you got?”
“Emails that need answers,” he says. “I’m a fucking slow typer.”
“Perfect. Forward them to me.”
He scowls. “Don’t know how you can type on that tiny keyboard.”
“I don’t have sausage fingers like you do.”
He grunts. A moment later, my phone chimes with the first email.
I get to work.
By the time I’m finished, my eyes are burning from staring at a screen for nearly two hours and my neck aches from being bent in the same position for so long.
And I can’t stop yawning.
“Go to bed,” Seb says around a yawn. “You’re giving me the yawns, and I’ve still got an hour of work left to do.”
He seems cheerier than he was at the start of this, and that’s a plus. “I’ve just got one more…” A yawn interrupts me.
“Go to bed,” he says firmly. “I’ll handle the last one.”
Arguing is futile when he takes that tone. I push back my chair and stand, stretching out my stiff joints. “Don’t stay up too late. This can all wait until the morning.”
“Quit acting like my mother,” he says.
“We have the same mother.”
He looks up at me, brow creased, his annoyance sky high as he glares at me like I’ve insulted him.
I hold up my hands and back away slowly. “Which I know you know.” I fake a yawn that turns into a real one. “Going to bed now.”
I hurry out of the room and up the stairs. Cash isn’t up yet, and I take a moment to appreciate having a room to myself, even if it is for just a little while.
I get ready for bed, and crawl under the covers. I’m in that perfect sleepy state where I know I’ll be dead asleep in less than five minutes, but I can’t stop thinking about DogPerson.
I send her a quick message, figuring she’ll see it in the morning.
HandsyGuy37: Good luck with being charming today. You’ve got this.
Ugh, so cheesy. I send the message anyway, set my phone on the charger on my nightstand and lay back.
Just as I’m drifting off, my phone dings. I should ignore it, but if there’s a chance DogPerson’s up, I want to talk to her.
The way my heart leaps when I see the message is from her is not my first indication that I’m in serious trouble, but it’s the most convincing.
Instead of putting my phone down and putting some space between us, I open the message.
DogPerson158: I’m going to need it. I was just woken up by a four-year-old who had a nightmare, and she’s now asleep in my bed. And she’s a kicker. I’m getting no sleep tonight, and I don’t function well on little to no sleep.
I stare at the phone, my whole vision of this woman shifting.
She has a kid? She must be half asleep to give away that personal detail.
And I’m not about to scare her off by pointing out what she just shared.
HandsyGuy37: That sounds rough. Can you sleep on the couch?
DogPerson158: She’ll just find me and try to sleep on the couch with me. Someday I’ll miss this. Remind me that someday I’ll miss this.
HandsyGuy37: I have no idea. I don’t have kids. Sounds legit though.
DogPerson158: Oh, no. We aren’t supposed to be sharing personal details. Can you forget this entire conversation?
HandsyGuy37: Not a chance.
DogPerson158: Fine. But that’s it. No more personal details. None. I’m hanging up now.
HandsyGuy37: You’re an amazing mom.
DogPerson158: Nope. You have to pretend you don’t know I’m a mom. Don’t mention it again.
DogPerson158: Also, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.
Her username goes offline, and I drop my phone back onto the charger. As I fall asleep, all I can picture is DogPerson158 curled up in bed with an adorable mini-Dogperson. Of course, I have to use my imagination to fill in what she looks like, but I have a very good imagination.