“Have fun, kids!” she called out as they ran across the street to the Alvarez house. “Don’t make too big of a mess!” Who was she kidding? She didn’t care what they did as long as they came out alive.
Justin Casey was her neighborhood BFF and Beverly Hills’ go-to party planner. He moonlighted at a drag bar after hours as Betty Danger because, he said, “Deep down I’ve always wanted to be a housewife.” Where Gabby could neither lip-synch nor plan a party, Justin couldn’t stop. They balanced each other out.
Tonight, all Gabby wanted to do was chill with her BFF and tell him all about the EOD, but she couldn’t unless she wanted to end up “prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” How did EOD agents do it? Could she even have a therapist?
Like Gabby’s, Justin’s house was a Spanish-style two-story with a xeriscape yard and fruit trees. Unlike hers, Justin’s hadimagination. It was all kitschy wallpaper and statues he’d picked up on trips to France or at flea markets in Arizona. Justin bought something everywhere he stopped. If he went in a gas station, he’d walk out with a monogrammed keychain, a charming air freshener, and a coconut water. He’d never spent less than twenty dollars at a stop in his life.
Gabby stepped through the door. “Honey, I’m home!” There were cocktails, and Justin was dressed in a onesie with a pinned-on tail, cat ears, and painted-on whiskers. God help her, but she couldn’t remember why. “What’s the theme tonight?”
“Broadway.” The look on his face said, “Duh.”
“Oh right.” She smiled. “I loveCats.”
Justin was always the only one dressed up. He would be in full makeup while everyone else stumbled in wearing wilted button-down shirts, jonesing for a beer after work. For once, that was her.
She wanted to scream, “THE EOD RECRUITED ME.” Instead, she stated the obvious. “Justin, no one else is going to dress up,” as if it was at the top of her mind.
“Just because they’re dull and boring doesn’t mean I have to be.”
She nodded before dipping a toe into what she actually wanted to say. “It wasa day! I ended up—” She paused. How was she supposed to describe this situation? With a frustrated sigh, she said, “I just ended up with some extra things to do, and I had to get one of Kyle’s friend’s moms to pick up the kids.”
He put his paw on her forearm. “Gabby, I would love nothing more than to babysit. I’ve been dying to watch Kyle and Lucas. Those kids need a strong male figure in their lives.”
She blurted out a laugh. “You’re in a cat costume!”
But he was right. Justin had been there. Since the divorce, and even before, Justin was always there. He’d offered to watch thekids so many times, and she’d never taken him up on it. She’d lost a lot of friends since the divorce—people just stopped calling or made excuses. Some people she hadn’t bothered calling because she didn’t want to have to rehash the last year of her life before they had coffee. Justin—painted-on whiskers and all—was her rock.
Gabby hugged him.
“Love you too, Gabs.” He tilted his chin up and leaned back. “But careful of the makeup.”
Phil might not have been, but Justin was there for her for better or worse, till death do us part.
He gestured for her to come outside to the garden. “Now I want to show you where I put Rocky.”
“Rocky?”
He smiled coyly. “You’ll remember. You met him on our last Starbucks run. I’m starting a collection. I already bought him a friend.”
She blurted out a laugh when the memory hit. Because his partner, Hugh, was worried about the credit card bill (someone had to be), Justin left most of his purchases in his SUV. The back seat was filled with fabulous knickknacks no one would ever need: figurines, random lampshades, and always a throw pillow or two. It was an International Rug on wheels. “The key is to sprinkle in the purchases so he never notices.” Last time they’d gone for coffee, there’d been a taxidermied raccoon in the back seat.
When Gabby had gasped, he’d put his hand on her forearm. “Don’t worry. I bought him from a vegan,” as if her first concern were morality.
The raccoon had been stuffed between a Costco-sized container of trail mix and a spangled throw pillow and had looked alive.
“I got him from this really lovely vegan lady who taxidermiesroadkill.” He had readjusted the review mirror to get a good look at the animal. A smile of satisfaction spread across his face like butter. “Isn’t he marvelous? She found him just up the road, hit by a car. It’s amazing how wild animals have adapted to live in neighborhoods among us.”
Gabby didn’t point out that the animal was dead. Also, she was sure Hugh would notice a dead raccoon in the house. Taxidermy wasn’t something you could “sprinkle in.” But without Justin, Hugh would be bored out of his mind.
“Can we sneak into a corner somewhere? I want to tell you something.” She wasn’t sure what she’d tell him. Maybe she could talk about her day in pig Latin. I am an ecret-say, py-say.
Before he had a chance to show her the rest of his taxidermy collection, Shelly flagged them down. “Justin, Gabby, over here!”
Gabby groaned. Shelly was the neighbor Gabby never wanted to talk to and the one person she always ran into. Shelly always had an opinion. Tonight was no different.
“Are these shrimp from Costco?” Shelly looked at the shrimp on her plate like she found it wanting. She hadn’t even tried to dress up.
“Uh, no. I got them at the market.”
