“What did Uncle Nico say?”
“He’s putting up cameras out front to see if he can catch anyone, but there isn’t much he can do right now,” I mutter, picking his cup of coffee back up and taking another sip.
“I’ll call your cousins and see if they can have some of their boys do a round in the area.”
“Dad, seriously, they’re busy.” I shake my head. I know my cousins would do rounds if I asked them to, but I hate the idea of them worrying about me. They may be my younger cousins, but you would never know it by how they treat any of us girls. They make my uncles and dad look tame.
“If things don’t pan out with the cameras, I’m asking them.”
I roll my eyes, knowing there is no point in arguing. There are times you may as well be talking to a brick wall when speaking to my father.
“Hey, honey.” My mom smiles, walking into the kitchen, wearing a robe that isn’t exactly appropriate, but still looks good on her. My mom is beautiful, and judging by the look on my dad’s face, he seems to think so too. Which is my cue to leave.
“Hey, Mom,” I mumble as her arms wrap around me and she kisses my cheek.
“I didn’t know you were coming by.” She looks at my dad over my head, but I still catch the look she gives him. Gross.
“I just wanted to come steal some food before I went home,” I tell her, and then want to take it back, ’cause I need to get out of here.
“Do you want me to make you something?” she offers, going to the fridge.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll stop at the store,” I assure her.
I swear my parents are complete freaks, and I do not want to witness anything that will have me bleaching out my eyeballs later. Been there, done that, never going back.
“Are you sure?” She frowns, looking me over.
“Babe, she’s leaving,” my dad growls at her, making me smile.
“Asher Mayson.” She puts her hands on her hips and I almost laugh.
“I’m sure, Mom.” I pick up my bag and kiss my dad on the cheek before giving my mom another hug. I yell, “Love you, guys,” over my shoulder as I rush out of their house.
I drive twenty minutes to my house across town. I live in a yellow, three-bedroom, ranch-style home with a huge front porch that sits two rocking chairs. Even though my house is in town, the houses in my neighborhood are all spread out, each of us on my block having around one-acre lots.
I shut down my car in my driveway, not bothering to park in the garage since I would have to crawl out my trunk, and grab my bag before making my way up to my front porch. I grab my mail from the mailbox next to my door before making my way inside, quickly closing the door behind me so that Juice doesn’t have a chance to escape.
“Hey, big guy.” I drop my mail and bag on the entryway table and pick up Juice when he jumps up, making the contents of the table rattle. “What have you been doing?” I rub my face into the soft fur of his neck and smile when he begins to purr. “I think it’s going to be an early night,” I tell him as I walk back to my bedroom and toe off my shoes in my closet before dumping Juice onto the bed.
He walks around in circles for a moment before curling himself up into a ball and closing his eyes. I shake my head, wishing I could fall asleep as easily as he does. I always find it hard to sleep after work. My body is normally exhausted, but my mind is in a constant state of worry. I’m always wondering if I missed something, or if I should have done something differently with one of the animals in my care. I slip off my clothes, pull on a pair of cut-off sweats that are now shorts, find a tank top, and put that on before making my way into the kitchen.
“Hey, Taser,” I say as I go to the cage that is now on a stand near the double doors that lead to my back deck. His little bird head turns towards me, and I check to make sure he has enough water and food before placing a sheet over the top of his cage. Since the day I brought him home, Taser has been improving, but judging by the way his small wing still hangs awkwardly, I don’t think he will ever be free again.
I fix myself a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a glass of milk then carry both back to my bedroom, turn on the TV, and get into bed. I make myself comfortable while flipping through channels until I find one of my favorite shows, Ancient Aliens. I lean back and pick up my sandwich, taking a large bite before moaning at its perfection, and then wash it down with a gulp of milk. After I’m done eating, I take my dishes back to the kitchen then go handle my nightly routine before getting back into bed. I make sure I hold back the covers for Juice, who, like always, curves himself against my stomach as I watch the supposable hidden secrets of an ancient alien race until I fall asleep.
*
I look at my receptionist, Kayan, and feel my eyebrows pull together when she taps franticly on the glass and waves her hand at me. “I’ll be right back,” I tell my patient’s family, and follow Kayan out of the exam room and down the hall towards the waiting area. “What happened?” I ask her, and she pauses just around the corner and points. I look around to where she’s pointing, instantly regretting it when I see the profile of the man I wished I would never see again standing near the reception desk. “What did he want?” I whisper, taking Hot Biker Dude in, in all his jeans-and-leather glory.
“He said he wants to adopt a dog. I sat there staring at him for five minutes, not able to even speak, and I could tell he was becoming pissed off, so I figured you could help him.”