The Mane Squeeze
Page 28
Mitch rolled his eyes. Dont be such a wuss! They found Caramelli after, like, eight hours. He was a little dehydrated, but he was alive.
CHAPTER 8
Lock parked his SUV in front of his parents New Jersey home and got out. If this had been the weekend, when he spent most of his time in his workshop, he would have been more rushed to get in and get out. But on this lovely October morning, he found he was in no rush. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with his dad. The old man could be quite entertaining in his own wacky wayunless you were some poor guy trying to fix the plumbing and move on to your next job.
Using the same set of keys hed had since he was nine, Lock entered his parents home.
Dad? You around? When Lock didnt get an immediate answer, he closed the door and headed through the sunroom into the living room, through the dining room, and straight in to the kitchen. A big bowl of berries sat on the table and he grabbed a handful. He could hear sounds coming from the basement, so he entered the tiny hallway, which had a doorway to the right that led out into the backyard and to his parents two-car garage, and a set of stairs to the left that led to the basement.
Lock barely had his foot on the first step when he heard a, No, no, no, dont! Followed by a woosh!
and a definitely girlish squeal that he refused to believe came from the old man.
Lock charged down the stairs but stopped when he hit the last step. He simply wasnt in the mood to get his boots wet.
He watched his favorite childhood stuffed dog float by before looking in the corner to see his father standing there, looking typically guilty and holding a giant wrench. Beside him stood
Lock blinked, not sure he was seeing correctly.
You, he said, too shocked not to show it. Then he did something he rarely ever didhe laughed. Bent-over-at-the-waist laughing. He couldnt help it. Not a day had gone by when he hadnt thought about her. Part of him still ashamed hed left her alone, part of him mad shed made him care one way or the other. But he never thought hed see her again. At the very least he never thought hed see her again in his basement, with his dad, drenched from her knees to her boots from whatever fuck-up Brody MacRyrie had managed to get himself into.
Lock? his father asked, most likely shocked at the laughter coming from his only boy. Are you all right?
Lock couldnt answer. He was laughing too hard, which did absolutely nothing but piss off the little feline with the hospital phobia. And even though she clearly didnt appreciate being laughed at, she decided to take it out on Brody rather than Lock.
Yanking the wrench from Brodys hand, Gwen shook it at himalthough Lock would be eternally grateful she didnt use it to bash themans head in.
What did I say? I said dont touch!
I was just curious. And that only made Lock laugh harder. Hed lost count of how many bad days with his parents began with the sentence, But I was curious! It was true, almost all bears were curious by nature, even Lock, but Brody took it to an extreme that made those who knew him love him and want to punch him all at the same time. I merely wanted to see
Out! the little feline roared, the sound a bit more frightening as it seemed to combine the roar of a territorial lion with the warning growl of a pissed-off tiger.
But why? I didnt do
Dad. Lock stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. For a moment he thought that wrench would come right at his head. Upstairs.
Im your father, boy. You cant tell me
Up. Stairs. Or Im calling Mom.
Traitor, Brody mumbled, but he mumbled while moving, so Lock didnt bother arguing with him.
And youre both being unreasonable.
Lock waited until his father marched up the stairs and back into the kitchen, then he focused on Gwen.
Youre the plumber?
Those gold eyes narrowed dangerously. What does that mean?
It means Im having a hard time believing you can fix my parents plumbing.
Why? Because Im a woman?
No. Because youre you.
The wrench slapped into her left palm with a swack! First my brother and now you. What a perfect fucking day.
He sloshed over to her, grateful hed worn his work boots rather than his sneakers. I dont know your brother. Just the half-brother of your half-brother, which I still find entertaining. He took hold of her left hand and lifted it. But these are not the nails of a plumber.
Whats wrong with my nails? She snatched her hand back and studied them. The polish isnt even chipped.
Exactly! What kind of plumber has pristine nails?
A smart one.
Lock took her hand again, studied her nails. Are these the colors of the Philadelphia Eagles?
Once more she snatched her hand back. I support my teams. You got a problem with that, too?
If theyre the Eagles.
At least we have a team, she shot back. And just because I have style and my nails look good, doesnt mean Im not the best plumber youll ever know.
Is that right? Are you even licensed in Jersey, Mr. Mittens?
CHAPTER 8
Lock parked his SUV in front of his parents New Jersey home and got out. If this had been the weekend, when he spent most of his time in his workshop, he would have been more rushed to get in and get out. But on this lovely October morning, he found he was in no rush. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with his dad. The old man could be quite entertaining in his own wacky wayunless you were some poor guy trying to fix the plumbing and move on to your next job.
Using the same set of keys hed had since he was nine, Lock entered his parents home.
Dad? You around? When Lock didnt get an immediate answer, he closed the door and headed through the sunroom into the living room, through the dining room, and straight in to the kitchen. A big bowl of berries sat on the table and he grabbed a handful. He could hear sounds coming from the basement, so he entered the tiny hallway, which had a doorway to the right that led out into the backyard and to his parents two-car garage, and a set of stairs to the left that led to the basement.
Lock barely had his foot on the first step when he heard a, No, no, no, dont! Followed by a woosh!
and a definitely girlish squeal that he refused to believe came from the old man.
Lock charged down the stairs but stopped when he hit the last step. He simply wasnt in the mood to get his boots wet.
He watched his favorite childhood stuffed dog float by before looking in the corner to see his father standing there, looking typically guilty and holding a giant wrench. Beside him stood
Lock blinked, not sure he was seeing correctly.
You, he said, too shocked not to show it. Then he did something he rarely ever didhe laughed. Bent-over-at-the-waist laughing. He couldnt help it. Not a day had gone by when he hadnt thought about her. Part of him still ashamed hed left her alone, part of him mad shed made him care one way or the other. But he never thought hed see her again. At the very least he never thought hed see her again in his basement, with his dad, drenched from her knees to her boots from whatever fuck-up Brody MacRyrie had managed to get himself into.
Lock? his father asked, most likely shocked at the laughter coming from his only boy. Are you all right?
Lock couldnt answer. He was laughing too hard, which did absolutely nothing but piss off the little feline with the hospital phobia. And even though she clearly didnt appreciate being laughed at, she decided to take it out on Brody rather than Lock.
Yanking the wrench from Brodys hand, Gwen shook it at himalthough Lock would be eternally grateful she didnt use it to bash themans head in.
What did I say? I said dont touch!
I was just curious. And that only made Lock laugh harder. Hed lost count of how many bad days with his parents began with the sentence, But I was curious! It was true, almost all bears were curious by nature, even Lock, but Brody took it to an extreme that made those who knew him love him and want to punch him all at the same time. I merely wanted to see
Out! the little feline roared, the sound a bit more frightening as it seemed to combine the roar of a territorial lion with the warning growl of a pissed-off tiger.
But why? I didnt do
Dad. Lock stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. For a moment he thought that wrench would come right at his head. Upstairs.
Im your father, boy. You cant tell me
Up. Stairs. Or Im calling Mom.
Traitor, Brody mumbled, but he mumbled while moving, so Lock didnt bother arguing with him.
And youre both being unreasonable.
Lock waited until his father marched up the stairs and back into the kitchen, then he focused on Gwen.
Youre the plumber?
Those gold eyes narrowed dangerously. What does that mean?
It means Im having a hard time believing you can fix my parents plumbing.
Why? Because Im a woman?
No. Because youre you.
The wrench slapped into her left palm with a swack! First my brother and now you. What a perfect fucking day.
He sloshed over to her, grateful hed worn his work boots rather than his sneakers. I dont know your brother. Just the half-brother of your half-brother, which I still find entertaining. He took hold of her left hand and lifted it. But these are not the nails of a plumber.
Whats wrong with my nails? She snatched her hand back and studied them. The polish isnt even chipped.
Exactly! What kind of plumber has pristine nails?
A smart one.
Lock took her hand again, studied her nails. Are these the colors of the Philadelphia Eagles?
Once more she snatched her hand back. I support my teams. You got a problem with that, too?
If theyre the Eagles.
At least we have a team, she shot back. And just because I have style and my nails look good, doesnt mean Im not the best plumber youll ever know.
Is that right? Are you even licensed in Jersey, Mr. Mittens?
