Because... boobs.
Joss’sboobs, though. Different than the normal kind.
Geoff swims to the edge beside me and hoists himself out. “Need a drink?”
I hold up my empty Stella. “Yeah, I’ll take another.”
He returns with a refill and a Natty Light for himself. Like me, Geoff is a country boy at heart. Grew up in the town next to mine, out in the boonies in Oklahoma. Small world. We wrestled each other in high school. He won State our senior year. Still holds it over me, the dick.
That we wrestled as teenagers makes Joss endlessly happy. Early on, she bullied a picture of me in my singlet from my mom. It’s now my contact photo in her phone. Luckily for me, Jocelyn’s hospital employee photo is the most unflattering picture she’s ever taken, so naturally, it’s her contact photo inmyphone.
She once threatened me with a macabre sort of violence if I didn’t delete it. As a ceasefire, I graciously allowed her to keep the wrestling photo. The conversation went something like:
“Fine. Keep it. You just want to ogle me in the spandex I wore when I was in the best shape of my life.”
Blah, blah. Excuse, excuse. Childish laughter.“Little Asher leans left!”
Ridiculous woman.
“I heard you single-handedly saved a man’s dick yesterday,” I say to Geoff as he settles into the lounge chair beside me. The dude is rocking a sharp farmer’s tan, the bright sun only accentuating the whiteness of his shoulders and chest.
Geoff cracks the tab of his beer. “It probably would have survived without me. Just... less aesthetically pleasing.”
Not the prettiest appendage as it is. Less than ideal to make it uglier. Still, I snort at the picture in my head. “What happened?”
“Skateboarding accident. Straddled a rusty rail.”
Wincing, I quell the urge to protect my groin against invisible threats. “I heard he almost severed it.”
Geoff sighs. Hospital gossip annoys him. Understandable, given it’s usually wrong. “It was a bad laceration, but it wasn’t severed. It’ll heal okay.”
“Yikes. Who even skateboards anymore?”
“Teenagers.” Geoff downs a quarter of his beer with a loud gulp. “We were all idiots once.”
Some of us still are, I think, but I shake that off. “How’d you get up on that pedestal, G-spot? They always call you in for the tough shit.” Unlike me. I’m bypassed for my moreestablishedpartners. How do I get to Geoff level of surgical respect? It isn’t enough to be a good surgeon with minimal bad outcomes—both of which I already do. There’s some element I’m missing. Something that shoutsHey! I’m who you call in a crisis!
Would like install chip for said element, please. Will pay nicely.
Geoff shrugs. “The pedestal isn’t always a great place to be. When people think you can do no wrong, it’s inevitably worse when shit hits the fan.”
I get that. Have made that argument to myself a million times, but... still would rather be on the pedestal. Respect isearned, however, not bought. Should I joke less? Frown more?
What’s the secret?
Joss and Yayoi gather close in the pool, giggling to themselves while Talia floats by on a blow-up raft, pregnant belly shining in the sun.
I lean closer to Geoff. “Yayoi still on your case about knocking her up?”
He groans. “Frickin’ biologic clock. Starts ticking and suddenly she can’t stop talking about babies. You’re lucky you’re still keeping it casual.”
Casual. Another word fornot serious. Yeah, so,solucky.
I swallow a large gulp of beer. “You’ve already got the dad bod, bro. Might as well earn it.”
Geoff adopts the mildly panicked look married men develop when their wives talk about wanting children. “Do you think she’d notice if I gave myself a vasectomy? It’d take five minutes...”
“She’d castrate you, dumbass.”
