“We’re at Creed’s house. Remember how I said we were going to hang out here tonight? Is that still okay? If w
e stay here for a while?” I had actually planned on crashing here tonight, but now that Otter’s here I don’t want to. Long story.
The Kid stretches in the seat and nods. “Do you think Creed still has the History Channel on his TV?”
I try to hide my smile but don’t do very well. “I’m sure he does. Don’t you want to watch cartoons or something, though?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. I sigh and remind myself once again how normal he isn’t and how okay that is. I hesitate with my next words, but only for a moment. “Guess what else, Kid? Otter’s here too.”
The Kid pauses for a moment, thinking. “It’s been a while,” he finally says succinctly. He quickly unbuckles his seat belt and steps out into the rain. I zip up his coat, noticing how small it is on him now, wondering if I need to go get him a new one. I try and think if he has any other coat in the closet at home, but I can’t remember. But that’s all right. For now. For now, he seems to be okay.
“Bear, you coming inside or what?” Creed asks from the doorway. I startle, realizing that Ty has already run inside, and I’m standing in the driveway getting soaked. I grin sheepishly and rub my hands through my hair.
As I enter the house, I hear Ty yelling for Otter as he runs up the stairs. Creed rolls his eyes at me. “I guess I’ve been replaced already.”
“Don’t feel too bad,” I say. “The Kid thinks you’re cool, but ‘Otter rocks!’” My voice rises to the octave of the Kid.
“Story of my life,” he mutters.
“So, why is he here?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but Creed doesn’t hear me.
I follow him into the kitchen, where I hear Otter thumping back down the stairs and Ty already babbling away at him. I see them pass by the aquarium near the bottom of the stairs, and I notice Ty already resting on Otter’s back, his arms thrown companionably around his neck as he giggles into his ear. Otter has the same lopsided grin on his face that he always has. I remember when he used to be able to carry me like that. He’s a bit shorter than Creed but more muscular than he is. Everything else, from the closely cropped blond hair to the green eyes is the same. Of course he’s older than Creed and I, twenty-nine years old to our just-turned twenty-one. He hasn’t really changed much over the years. I find myself uncharacteristically fascinated by the veins that bulge out on his massive arms, the way his back looks like it goes on for miles under the shirt he wears. His gigantic hands, the crinkles around his eyes that form when he smiles. There’s something there, in the back of my mind, but I can’t look at it now and berate myself quietly for noticing these things about him. About myself. What the hell do I care?
Otter sets down the Kid on the countertop in the kitchen, still giving Ty his full attention. Ty’s telling him some story involving the evils of ham production and looks down for a moment. That’s when Otter glances up over Ty’s head just for an instant and searches for me. His eyes find mine, and Otter grins the Otter grin before quickly diverting his attention back to the Kid. He knows as well as anybody that when Ty is talking to you about something as important as ham processing, you pay attention like it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear. I try not to notice how my step stutters when he looks away.
I walk into the kitchen. Creed grabs beer out of the fridge and offers one to me, which I take. He throws one to Otter who catches it deftly with one hand while never tearing his eyes away from Ty. Ty pauses in a sentence, and then Creed interjects, “Kid, you want a beer?”
Ty’s eyes widen and then narrow suspiciously. “What if I say yes?”
Creed shrugs. “Then I’d tell you you’d have to ask Papa Bear.”
The Kid glances sideways at me then goes back to Creed. “Bear and I already talked about it, and he thinks I’m old enough.”
I snort. “Like hell we did! You little liar.”
The Kid looks back at Otter, who is struggling to keep a straight face. “You believe me, right, Otter?” he asks, making his voice sound as if he were some poor orphan boy asking for a meal. Otter can’t contain it and bursts out laughing, a loud bellowing sound that echoes throughout the tiled kitchen. Ty crosses his arms and scowls.
Otter sobers up for a moment, looking down at the little boy in front of him. “How about this,” he says. Ty instantly perks to attention. “How about I give you a sip of my beer and just a sip, and then I go get you some soy ice cream?”
Soy ice cream? I should have thought of that.
Ty looks at Otter for a moment to make sure he’s not joking and then looks at me, eyes pleading. I pretend to mull it over for a moment while Otter, Creed, and the Kid begin making pitiful noises, begging, just begging. I throw my hands up in the air, and Ty knows he’s got me beat.
Otter picks up his beer bottle and hands it over to Ty, saying, “You can sip until I count to three, and then you’re done, okay?” Ty nods and lifts the bottle to his lips. “One… two… three, and you’re done.” He takes the bottle away from Ty, who sits there a moment before letting out a great burp. We all laugh, and Otter gives a high-five to the Kid, who is grinning, knowing he’s one of the boys.
Otter picks Ty easily off the counter and sets him on the ground, asking him first in his gruffest voice if he is too drunk to walk and did he know that was against the law? Ty says he knows it was against the law, but he was peer-pressured into it, just like Creed pressured me to drink the first time.
Creed rolls his eyes and leans over and whispers to me, “So, that’s what you told him? Damn liar.”
“What can I say?” I whisper back. “I was young and impressionable, and you coerced me.” Creed snorts on his beer, spilling it onto the ground. He searches around for a towel while cursing my name. While smirking at Creed, I feel a strong arm drop onto my shoulder. I look over and see Otter standing next to me, crooked grin and all. His teeth are big and white.
“Hi, Bear,” Otter says. There’s determination in his eyes.
“Hi, Otter,” I say, looking back at him, fighting against the urge to throw his arm off of me.
For a moment he looks like he’s about to speak but something must cross his mind, changing it, and he takes it back. He gives me a one-armed hug and then steps back to stand in front of me, looking down at the beer in his hand. I wonder what just happened and what he was going to say. I wonder a lot of things, but it’s all batted down by the sound of rain on the roof. I look down at Creed, but his attention is still focused on the spilled beer, so he didn’t see anything. Not that there would have been anything to see. I look back up to Otter and am trying to make out the mess that is my mind when he says, “So, what’s the word, Papa Bear?”
I shrug. “Same, I guess. What’s new with you? I haven’t seen you since what, the Christmas before last?” I say this last bit coldly, as we both know damn well when the last time I saw him was.
He’s about to speak again, but this time is interrupted by Creed. “Yeah, what’s up, Otter? Not that I mind at all, but how come you’re here? What, San Diego getting to be too much for you?”