Page 128 of Go Back to December

The next picture is of Minnow rolling on the ground, legs hoisted in the air as he writhes with the joy dogs have scratching their own backs.

Sending me dick pics of Minnow is not changing my mind.

Christ, it’s not. He's fixed!

Okay, I see your point. That was not my intention.

I’m sorry.

Baz hasn’t called, hasn’t texted. He’s respecting the space—the void—I put between us.

He’s sending Dooley instead, which irritates me. Because I’m more likely to talk to Dooley right now, and I hate, hate, that Baz knows this about me.

Stop hustling me for Baz.

I swear, that’s not what this is.

Minnow wanted to check that you’re okay.

Not drowning yourself in cheap wine and fennel candy.

Gross. What the hell is fennel candy?

The fuck do I know? I just saw it in the window of some crazy shop in your neighborhood.

I fight off a smile.

I’m waiting for a delivery in front of the building.

If I’m still here when you come by, I’ll be gracious. To Minnow.

Dooley sends me a close-up of Minnow’s boy parts, and this time I laugh out loud.

“Laughing to yourself? Definitely losing it.”

My head snaps up.

Craig stands on the pavement in front of me, wrapped in his flight jacket and jeans, green duffel slung over his shoulder.

He pushes his aviator sunglasses back over his close-cropped hair. “No fruit. Just me.”

I let out a squeal and throw myself into his arms. He lifts me up like when I was a little kid, spins my legs in either direction while I try to see how hard I can squeeze his neck before he chokes.

“What are you doing here?” I sob.

He sets me down on the sidewalk but keeps his hands on my shoulders for inspection. “Show me.”

I hold up my paw.

“There isn’t even a bandage, you big faker.”

My shoulders tremble, and Craig mumbles Hey, hey, and pulls me against him. “I’m going to kill that asswipe for doing a number on you.”

“It’s not his fault. Not entirely.” Leaning back, I smile. “But I love that you want to rip his limbs apart.”

Craig smiles back with the same evil grin and kisses me on the forehead.

A dog howls. It’s practically screaming its distress, and we turn to the end of the block.