Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

Gwen firmly but gently overrides him at every turn, explaining that if vitamin D is good for his taint, then vegetables are also good for his immune system. He grumbles, but he doesn’t complain. And soon, a warm, rich-smelling soup is bubbling on the stove.

Eyes fluttered shut, head swimming, body floating, I let myself enjoy the moment with two people who have become the most unexpected type of friends. Eventually, our conversation turns to peppering Clyde with whether or not he believes certain conspiracy theories.

He turns in his chair to face me. “Kid, you are one big shitty attitude. When I close my eyes and try to envision you, I see a frown floating in the abyss. Except when you’re around Gwen. So stop pretending this has to do with that prissy little goofball you made when you were too stupid to use a condom.”

“You could have come up with some other excuse. Like… Clyde invited everyone over for a group taint-tanning session?”

With that, we all stand at once, heads ducked low as we scurry out of the bar, missing out on the final rounds of trivia night. Doris catches us on our way out, grabbing Rosie by the wrist to stop her. Her voice drops to a serious whisper. “You girls be careful out there.” We nod in unison. “But, Rosie Belmont, if I catch you on your phone again during trivia night, I will ban you for life.” Rosie cracks a smile, a dry laugh, lurching from her throat. “You got yourself a deal, Doris.”

When I pull up, the first thing I see is an exhausted-looking Ford Grant stepping into his Mercedes G-Wagon. He has a small plastic box in his hand. I hop out, coffee in hand, squinting to get a better look. I can see a small, gray mouse inside the box. When he catches me gawking, he deadpans, “Don’t even fucking ask.”