“Of course they don’t. We’re the best-looking gays in town,” Zane said, trailing off when Gale came over with a pitcher of steaming coffee.
“How are you two doing?” he asked cheerfully and helped himself to a strawberry left on the side of Reed’s plate.
“Just enjoying these weird-ass pancakes,” Reed said, glad to see Gale’s face have color without any makeup. Well, other than the green shade on his eyelids, but that was a choice, not evidence of addiction like his pallor had been.
Gale liked his new job well enough, and while Reed was still worried he might go back to old habits, the combination of friends to lean on and Narcotics Anonymous seemed to give him enough support. He’d now been sober for seven months and counting.
“You know nothing. They’re the best,” Zane said, but the timer in his cell phone chose this moment to beep, cutting him off.
He was now setting up alarms to make sure he didn’t miss important appointments, and Reed sometimes double-checked those for him. Life became much less chaotic since they’d applied that system, even in moments when Zane would have preferred to ignore the ringing. He deflated, scowling. “Well, that facial needs to wait,” he said, despite Gale standing by their table.
Reed bit his lip. “He means the… face mask thingy…”
Gale rolled his eyes. “I know what he means.”
Reed groaned and kicked Zane under the table. “We’ll both be going, though.” He pulled out his wallet and left a big tip. He was so thrilled to be able to do that nowadays. Having extra savings also gave him leverage when he’d negotiated a new pay rate with Culver. It had been like juicing a brick, but when Culver had understood Reed had options if he left, he caved and offered him a raise.
Zane’s fingers tapped Reed’s in passing as they made their way to the exit. The heat outside was like dense smoke clinging to their cooled skin. It was a glorious summer afternoon, and Reed was almost sorry they wouldn’t get to spend it together. But they couldn’t drop everything and go skinny-dipping every time they felt like it. The things they had planned were important in the long run, and Reed didn’t want to bail on them just because they weren’t exactly fun or pleasant.
Reed couldn’t wait to have Zane hugging him on the bike. There was no hiding their relationship from locals, but Zane had told him people at his evening classes were more curious than nasty, which was a relief, since Reed used to be anxious about it every single time he’d left Zane at school.
The familiar rattle of wheels made Reed glance toward the street as they traversed the motel parking lot. Dingo was the only thing in Mad Madge’s shopping cart this time, and he stood at the front as if he were a deranged captain of this two-person ship.
She struggled more than usual though, and the cart itself kept giving sharp, metallic cries, as if metal was rubbing hard against another surface. Zane stilled, halfway to picking up his backpack from their room, and Reed gestured for him to carry on before breaking into a jog to reach Madge faster.
One of those wheels was jammed.
“Hey, Madge! Let me look at that for you.” Reed petted Dingo’s head as he smiled at her, and kneeled by the cart without waiting for her answer.
In a strange twist of fate, their lives would forever be linked with hers. She’d been the one who helped them work out what had happened that fateful night, even if the details would remain a mystery. She’d also provided the fuel for the fire that consumed the monsters from Reed’s nightmares and saved Zane’s life—took him to the hospital when so many people Reed knew would have just left him to die rather than draw the attention of the cops, and for that, Reed would always be grateful.
The dog barked happily, as if he knew what was up and wanted to express his appreciation. Madge leaned back, resting her hands on her hips. She’d actually worn a knee-length dress this afternoon, so maybe this was a special day.
“It just happened on the way,” she said, approaching Reed while cars passed by on the nearby road into town. The smell of gas always seemed stronger in the summer, but Reed ignored it and pulled out his Swiss Army knife to cut a piece of fabric that had gotten stuck in the front wheel, causing the problem.
“No problem, Madge. Easy fix. You know you can always count on us.”
“Thank you. I always knew you had a good heart. Your mom used to buy pet food for Dingo when times were tough for me.”
Reed got up once he’d fixed the wheel, and when their eyes met, he couldn’t help the wave of tenderness gathering in his chest. Somehow, he’d become the man he’d always wanted to be—a good neighbor and an attentive boyfriend, not a brute who killed people for drug money.