Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

“I don’t need to soften my chest. Because my new kidney is on the way.” I freeze and stare down at Clyde. “What?” “I must have forgotten to tell you. Bash is giving me a kidney tomorrow.” My lips pop open. “Sorry?” A raspy smoker’s laugh spills from his lips as his eyes finally flick open. “Yeah. Couple weeks ago, he brought it up over beers. Went and did all the testing. Turns out the two of us are a match made in heaven.” My heart swells with joy, and my eyes fill with unshed tears. “Gwen, if you get all sappy on me, I’m leaving. All this universe and energy yoga shit is already toeing the line for me.”

Bash: I know this is random, but giving you a heads-up that I’m donating a kidney to a friend. So if I’m MIA for a bit, I’m probably just in the hospital. Tripp: Jesus. When is this happening? Bash: Tomorrow. Tripp: And you’re just telling me now? Bash: Didn’t want you to get all sappy on me or something. Tripp: Well, I do think it’s pretty cool that you’d donate a kidney to a friend. I don’t think I like anyone that much. Lmao. Bash: One day you will.

West strides out of his kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face and a kidney-shaped cake in his hands. He stops at the head of the table, right beneath the banner that reads We’re going to miss you, Daddy! “Bash, congratulations on finally finding your perfect match,” he announces to the dining room full of our friends. “None of us expected it to be Clyde, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. And I, for one, could not be happier for you. Or him.”

Still, she looks different now than she did earlier, when those big doe eyes welled with tears. Tears for me. Happy tears. It threw me for a fucking loop. I hated it, but a part of me loved it too. Because for a moment, it felt like someone in the world really saw me—and liked what they saw. When Gwen looked at me today, I hadn’t felt like a second choice.

As is fairly typical for me, the large group atmosphere becomes more irritating than fun. The music plus the chatter makes it loud, and being the center of attention is pretty much my worst nightmare.

Bash and I, are one and the same

I pass a small guesthouse on my way. Warm, dim light filters from inside, and I peek in through the window, wondering why it would be lit up at all. The space looks tidy but unused, not lived. Except for the small, gray mouse in the corner. It’s nibbling on a piece of cheese that looks suspiciously similar to the Manchego on the ornate cheese board Tabby laid out earlier.

A wide, ornate western belt cinches her waist, highlighting the feminine curve of her hips and thick thighs—hugged by jeans that flare out into a wide-legged shape. Jeans I’d happily tug off if she asked me to.

I was often told growing up that I’m too much⁠—” “Who the fuck told you that?”

Close your eyes and quit staring at me like you’re going to beat someone up to defend my honor.”

“But, Bash, what if you live?” Her question echoes in my head as her warm palm molds to mine. I feel her pulse. It thrums through my body. Hell, maybe I even feel the earth beneath my feet a little differently. All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.

“Knock, knock!” I call out, rapping my fist against the open door of Clyde’s hospital room. “Why do people say ‘knock, knock’ while actually knocking?” he grumbles. “It’s totally redundant.”

“These fuckin’ clowns don’t know shit. Did you know they had to write on me with a Sharpie saying which side the kidney needed to go in on? A big X to mark the spot.” He shakes his head as he crosses his arms, disappointment dripping from every motion. “Over a decade of schooling, and these kids don’t even know right from left.”

“How are you feeling?” Clyde looks longingly out the window before turning big blue puppy dog eyes on me. “Like I want to go home. I will hire you to break me out of this place.” I take a seat in the chair beside him

“Would you be able to visit daily to start? Or even do overnight? There’s an extra room. I really think that would be helpful. Apparently, the hospital wants to know that I have someone to assist me in order for my discharge to go through. And I don’t trust many people. We could work out a good salary for full-time.”

“Would it be okay if I still taught at the studio?” The prospect of having both jobs is too good to not ask. He shrugs. “Sure. I don’t want you sitting there staring at me all the time. You’ll annoy me.”

“Well, good. You’ll move in with me. No rent necessary.”

“Count me in.” He brightens exponentially. “Do you promise?”

“You want me to promise?” “Yeah.” He nods solemnly, grumbling as he shifts in the bed. “I know I’m a lot to handle sometimes. People get tired of me. Then they stop showing up.”

So in about ten days when you get discharged, you’ll stay with me—like we talked about—and we’ll have to hire a live-in aide. They can take the spare room upstairs since you’ll be on the main floor.”

My head turns slowly in Clyde’s direction as I piece it together. He stays focused on Bash, like a puppy who’s done something naughty and is avoiding eye contact. “Oh, thank you, Bash. That’s perfect.” My jaw unhinges as I watch Clyde…play him. His voice is all soft, his shoulders just slightly hunched. “I actually hired someone already.”

“Just because you gave me a kidney doesn’t mean that you’re the boss of me now.” “Thank god,” Bash grumbles. “That’s a terrifying fucking prospect.”

“Quit gawking at his ass,” Clyde whispers, making me snap my gaze away. “I’m not. I’m looking at his back.” He giggles. This grizzled old man giggles. Like a little girl. My eyes narrow, and now it’s my turn to cross my arms and look down my nose at him. Suspicious. “Are you in pain?” “Me? No. I’m on more drugs than I’ve taken in my entire life. I can’t even feel my face.”

“You’re being a little shit-disturber, aren’t you?” The man’s lips twitch, and he waves me off. “I’m just a frail old man, not long for this world. Let me get my kicks in where I can.” I shake my head at him in disbelief and he peeks my way with a wink. “Plus, his shit could use a little disturbing.”

I steel myself because every time I lay eyes on her, it’s this full-body, visceral reaction. I freeze up like a fucking teenager. My heart pounds. My hands get clammy. And I have to clamp my molars together to keep from sighing like an awestruck little boy.

“Like the tiles on the face of the steps? The curve in the banister? It’s beautiful, Bash.” “Thanks, I made them myself.” I glance over my shoulder when I finish the stairs, watching her dainty fingers flutter over the rounded woodwork at the top landing. She doesn’t even look my way as she muses, “Goddamn, you must be good with your hands.”

“It’s a miracle I’ve survived this many days post-surgery without someone propping me up with every pillow in this house.” I turn back slowly to face Bash, who clearly just can’t help himself. “Do you want me to come upstairs and get you settled as well? If you keep this attitude up, I can hold a pillow down over your face to make it stop.” Bash swallows roughly while continuing to glare at me but says nothing. “Careful,” Clyde interjects with a raspy cackle, “some people are into that kind of shit.”

“He reminds me of Oscar the Grouch sometimes.” Then I turn back to face Bash, wanting to reassure him that I understand. “I love how honest you’re being with us about your expectations and what you need. Clear communication will make sharing the space easier for everyone.” Clyde nods solemnly. “Bash, we understand. This is your trash can, and we’re just living in it.” Bash’s jaw twitches. “The two of you are really annoying together. Do you know that?” I flash him my brightest grin. “Just think of us as the two annoying kids you never wanted.” “Oh, pfft,” Clyde scoffs, landing a playful slap on my arm. “Ain’t no way Bash is thinking about you like a kid.”

I daydream about it. Him, swiping all the chopped vegetables off the counter and lifting me onto it. Him, taking me out onto that balcony and bending me over the railing. Waiting until Clyde’s asleep and then sneaking into my room next to his. Covering my mouth with his hand to keep me quiet while he makes me come.

“Why is there a lock on the outside of that balcony door?”

“I thought I’d have kids.”

“The room you’re staying in was supposed to be the perfect kid’s room. The bench. The window. I figured by a certain age, they’d want to use the balcony too. But then I worried that when they were small, it might be a safety issue. So I put a dead bolt on the outside so my wife or I could⁠—” He trips over his own words, stopping midsentence with an irritated twist of his lips before forging ahead. “Whatever. I just figured I could lock it from the outside, then head back into my room from the shared balcony and not have to worry about a curious toddler wandering out.”

“Then one day adulthood snuck up on me and I realized I wanted a family. She didn’t. We tried to work it out. For a few years, I thought I could go along with it. Thought maybe she’d change her mind. But…” He shrugs, dropping my gaze and looking off into the distance. “Resentment grew anyway. And I really wanted a family. We were at an impasse, and neither one of us was happy. So I left and built this place as therapy, thinking maybe I’d be able to meet someone new and have it all one day.”

I was waiting around at the airport, hoping to get onto a flight, and bam there she was. Remarried. With a toddler. And very, very pregnant. So now I know it wasn’t that she didn’t want a family. She just didn’t want it with me. And all I’ve done is spend years licking my wounds, wishing for something I’ll never have. Too scared to even try.”

“Turns out it’s not that easy to find a person you actually connect with.”

We connected. We had that spark. The one you can’t force. The kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. And the worst part is, we both know it.

“Don’t you get it?” he implores, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his hands out like he’s begging me to understand. “Tripp might have some glaring character flaws—I won’t argue that with you—but he’s my son. And I’ve wanted that. Maybe not like this. But it might be my only opportunity to have even a sliver of this thing. My dad was a piece of shit. Walked out without a word and never came back. I’ve always wanted to…I don’t know…fix that wrong. Do better one day. Prove to myself that while I might have half his DNA, I’m not him. It’s why…it’s why your being here has to be for Clyde. For professional reasons and nothing more.”

Bash: Hey, just letting you know that I’m all good. Back home and healing well. Tripp: Better than my news, which is that we didn’t clinch a playoff spot. I’ll touch base when I’m in a better mood.

My text exchange with Tripp rubbed me the wrong way. Truthfully, it hurt my feelings. He didn’t reach out to ask how the surgery went, and when I told him I was okay, he instantly turned it into a conversation about hockey. Like making the playoffs was more important than my survival. And maybe it was more important to him—and that just makes me feel worse.

“Plus, she dated Tripp. That’s a line you just don’t cross. Even if I saw her first.” If I had known. I ended it on the spot. I tried to find you.

Gwen: Hihi. Got your number from Tabby. Just checking in. I’m headed back. How was Clyde when you left for bowling? Bash: Sometimes I regret giving him my kidney.

Gwen: In all those zombie movies and shows, I will never understand those people’s obsession with staying alive. For what? Living in a zombie world where everything sucks and all is lost? No, sir. Not for me. Peace out, bitches. It’s been a slice. On to the next. Bash: Zombies aren’t real. Gwen: Well, you’re the one who keeps bringing them up.

“The world is your oyster, Gwen. But eating oysters with someone else is the best. Do you know why?” “Why?” “Because they make you horny.” Tabby winks at me over her shoulder as she flicks the door open. The cabdriver just sighs, and I can’t help but wonder what he must think of us.

I see my friend approach her front porch. The one where her husband sits on the steps waiting for her. He greets her with open arms, and she moves in to straddle his lap before dropping her mouth to his. It’s sweet. But more than that, it’s…appealing. I bet they’d want to stay alive in a zombie apocalypse just so they could have more time together.

“I’m sick of your company. You’re extremely negative, you know?” He turns and glares at me over his shoulder. “Allergic to fun these days. It’s like living with Eeyore.” I choke back my laugh. “I thought I was Oscar the Grouch!”

A loose, cropped sweatshirt draped off one shoulder. Tight fucking yoga pants that show off every goddamn curve. Fuzzy socks with little raccoon faces all over them. I’ve dreamed of this. Her. Having her here.

She crosses her legs and nudges her chin in my direction, urging me to get on with it. “You that fucking eager, Gwen?” I taunt. “Yeah. I am,” she breathes. I bite the bullet. Holding her gaze, I slide my jeans down, stepping out of them and in her direction with my cock at full mast. Her eyes drop, and the little moan that vibrates in her throat only makes me harder. The way she sits up straight, leaning closer, gives me ideas I shouldn’t have at all.

“Careful what you wish for, Gwen. I’ve got a laundry list of ways I’d like to watch you work for it, and none of them involve poker.” “Fuck,”

“Where’s Bash? And why are your socks over here?”

“Oh, I tried to play strip poker with him. But I took my socks off and he got a massive boner, then acted all weird. Ran off to bed.” Then she laughs. A high, manic giggle. My jaw unhinges. Is she fucking kidding me? She’s going to pay for that one.

“I…” I pause, not totally sure what to say. “I am so sorry. I promise this won’t happen again.” I back away as he stands there, glaring at me. It’s hard to make out his exact expression in the darkened room, but I can feel his energy, and it’s dangerous. When I reach the traitorous doorway, I can’t help but add, “You know, unless you want it to.” “Gwen, what the—”