“Why Wheels?” I ask. “That’s an odd name.”
“He was hit by a car when he was a puppy,” Sandy says. “Lost both back legs and his tail. He has a little cart hooked up to his butt so he can run around. Paul adopted him that way and gave him the name.”
“A two-legged dog?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Named Wheels.”
“Right.”
“I need to meet Paul,” I tell Kori. “Like, now. Any man that picks a disabled dog on purpose has to be an amazing human being.”
“Oh,” Sandy says, “that’s right! Kori told me you were a hippie.”
“I don’t think I said it quite like that,” Kori says hurriedly.
“Yes, you did,” Sandy says. “What was it you said? I truly enjoyed it. Ah, yes! You said Tyson was a left-wing vegetarian hippie twink one step away from blowing up animal-testing labs and SeaWorld all for the sake of saving what he calls his animal companions.” He squints his eyes at me. “He doesn’t look like a hippie, though. He looks like he should be on some college gay-for-pay site.”
“Oh no,” Kori groans, covering her face.
“Hippie?” I exclaim angrily. “I’m not a goddamn hippie! And the orcas at SeaWorld are forced into tiny tanks and brutally beaten and underfed to teach them tricks to perform for some obese family from Ohio on vacation who eat deep-fried Oreos covered in bacon gravy while not even concerned that their entertainment is being tortured!”
“Tyson’s a little… vocal… when it comes to his convictions,” Dom says.
“That’s an understatement, sex giant,” Sandy says, eyes wide. “Holy PETA brainwash, Batman.”
“I’m not a hippie,” I mutter.
“Kind of a hippie,” Kori says. “But in a good way.”
“There’s no good way to be a hippie,” I tell her. “Especially beach hippies.”
“We had some problems with beach hippies,” Kori tells Sandy. “They didn’t know how to chant and threw rocks into windows.”
“Goddamn beach hippies!” Apparently, I’m still not over that.
“I had to arrest these two,” Dom tells Sandy.
“Did you?” Helena Handbasket purrs. “In uniform and with handcuffs? Those lucky little bastards.”
“It wasn’t as much fun as it sounds,” I point out. “The cuffs hurt.”
“That’s how you know you’re having a little fun,” Dom says with a wink, and I can do nothing but gape at him, because I want to know who this man is and what he’s done with my big, silent, stoic Dominic.
“You’ll meet Paul and Vince tomorrow for Saturday brunch,” Sandy says. “We figured we’d give you a bit to get settled in.”
“You have enough rooms?” Dom asks. “We can get a hotel.”
“A hotel?” Sandy asks. “Of course not. We’ll just have to bunk up a bit. But since we’re all such good friends, I don’t think that’s an issue, do you?” He smiles at Kori. “You’ll be in my bed, darling, but don’t get any ideas. I’ve given my heart to Jesus.?
?
“Poor Jesus,” Kori says.
“Mouthy little bitch,” Sandy says. “And as for you two, you’ll be in the spare bedroom. It’s really small, but the Realtor described it to me as cozy when I bought the place, and since I was trying to get in his pants, I didn’t mind.”
“Both of us?” I ask, my voice high-pitched. “Are there two beds?”