Forever

Chapter 9

“Knock yourself out.” I took the cannon. “Okay, let’s roll the dice to see who gets to be the banker.”

Quinn won that roll, and once he doled out the cash, we began to play in earnest.

He bought Park Place as soon as he landed on it, and Boardwalk, as well as Pacific, North Carolina, and Pennsylvania Avenues, enabling himself to build houses and hotels on those choice properties.

On the other hand, I was able to monopolize the railroads, the Electric Company, and Water Works.

“Are these dice loaded?”

“Quinn! I’m cut to the quick.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You didn’t answer me, though. Are they loaded? No one can roll boxcars six times in a row.”

“No one who isn’t me. Here.” I tossed the dice across to him. “Check them out for yourself.”

Bastard actually studied them, turning them over and over carefully.

“I don’t get it.”

“You will later.” I waggled my eyebrows at him. “Never mind. If you’re satisfied the dice aren’t loaded?” He nodded. “Good. It’s your turn now anyway.”

We played to a draw and then decided to break for a late lunch.

“How do heroes grab you?”

If it had been him asking me that, I’d have said, “By the balls,” but Quinn was too classy for that. Instead, he said, “Sounds good. Where are we going?”

“My kitchen. I’ll make us a couple.”

Quinn gave me a puzzled look. “You never have food in your refrigerator. Oh, maybe there are some containers of takeout, or a couple of eggs, but….”

I took a large loaf of Italian bread from the bread box and then retrieved cold cuts from the fridge, as well as stuff to top the heroes: lettuce, tomatoes, olives, Greek peppers, onions, and a vinaigrette dressing.

His mouth dropped open.

“Get us a couple of beers, okay?” I looked at the onions. Should I go for it? Yeah, why the hell not? We were both going to have them, after all.

“How did you manage to get all this here? And how could you know we’d be here today?” Once Quinn took the beers from the fridge and put them on the table, he came back to the counter to watch as I assembled the heroes.

“I did used to be a Boy Scout, you know.” One of my old lady’s men had been a Scoutmaster. He’d lasted longer than most of the others, but even after she’d kicked him out, he’d still looked out for me.

“I can see you as always being prepared, Mark, but you in one of those uniforms?” He shook his head.

“I looked pretty damn good in khaki.” I brought the plates with our heroes to the table and set one in front of him.

“Yes, I imagine you did.” He smiled, pulled my head down, and kissed me.

I was breathing heavy when he let me go, and he was looking like the cat that had swallowed the cream.

“Now, suppose we eat? I’m starved.”

* * * *

After lunch, we cleaned up the kitchen—he wouldn’t let me shoo him into the living area while I wiped up crumbs and put the plates we’d used into the dishwasher—and then I picked out a DVD and inserted it into the player his mother had given me as a token of thanks for getting him back.

I picked up the remote, sat on the couch, and put my feet up on the coffee table. Quinn made himself comfortable by toeing off his shoes and stretching out beside me, his head in my lap.

The movie started, and he laughed. “Clue?”

“Yeah.”

Leslie Ann Warren hadn’t even made her appearance as Miss Scarlet before Quinn’s breathing had deepened, evened out, and he’d fallen asleep.

I petted his hair and settled in to watch the movie.

* * * *

Someone was shaking my shoulder.

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Mark. Wake up.”

“Quinn? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I was asleep. It’s almost seven.”

“A.m. or p.m?”

“P.m.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll make you dinner in a second.”

“Never mind dinner. You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you keep sleeping that way.”

That was so sweet of him, to worry like that. “Okay. I’m awake.” My eyelids slid shut again.

“I’m not being sweet.” He poked me. “Where’s my cell phone?”

That woke me up. “Why? Are you going to call your mother to cancel tomorrow’s ride, I hope?” I stretched and yawned.

“In your dreams, Vincent.” Of course he wouldn’t do that. “I need to check my messages.”

“I thought you said barring a national emergency you didn’t want to be bothered.”

“I still need to check my messages.”

“I promised your mother you wouldn’t go anywhere.”

He held out his hand and tapped his foot on the carpet. It didn’t have quite as much impact, since he was still without shoes.

“You’re too damned conscientious, Mann.”

“My phone, Vincent.” He waggled his fingers impatiently.

“Damned spook.” I went to the cabinet where I kept paper goods and took out a roll of paper towels still in its wrapper. Quinn watched, his eyes getting wider and wider, as I slid back the plastic wrap and shook his slim phone free of the cardboard tube. “Here. But don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.”

“What about dinner?”

“I’m making you a steak. Along with a baked potato and steamed green beans.”