Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

“Gosh, I had no idea. I haven’t read the rule book to being stuck in an airport overnight. Do you have it on hand?”

His full mouth pops open as though he’s about to say something, but no words come. He just stares back at me like I’m an exotic bird he’s never seen before. Finally, he mumbles, “I like you just fine.” “Wow, high praise coming from you. Thank you for blessing me with your approval,”

I nod my agreement when I hear Bash mumble, “Maybe you should sage him instead.”

Her face breaks into the most heartrending smile. And all it does is make me want to pay her more compliments.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asks, not dropping my hand this time. “Sure.” I shrug. “But tired is kind of relative. I have been more tired. And there are worse things to be than tired. I’ll let my body rest tomorrow. Tonight, we make memories.”

“Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”

“You have no idea how badly I needed this.” “What? To race some weird girl in the airport?” He chuckles, and my spine tingles. “No. To blow off some steam.”

“The fuck did you just say to her?” Bash’s voice is cold as ice from across the table.

“I’m waiting for you to put your seat belt on.” “Pfft. I don’t need a seat belt. I grew up in cars that didn’t even have ’em. And look at me.” He holds his arms out wide. “I turned out fine.”

“Can’t say that I blame you. It’s unnerving, right?” He freezes for a moment, like I’ve caught him off guard. Then he nods, and I seize on his small show of agreement.

“Though you know, if someone was desperate enough to steal my winter boots, it strikes me they might need them more enough than I do.”

And so begins my mission to help this funny, strange, oddly thoughtful little man feel better.

“I’m a big girl. With a big truck. And above-average driving skills. You can take your bad energy elsewhere, Bash.”

He grins. “That you’d miss me if I died and that you desperately want to save your best friend’s life.” My eyes roll. Best friend. “No kidney for you. I take it back.” “I’ll talk to Doris. She can arrange to have it harvested against your will.”

He always asks about my yoga classes and how they’re going. Always checks if I’ve been sleeping well and eating properly. He always lights up when I walk in, and he always, always listens when I speak.

He’d hobbled away and come back with a handful of cash, shoving it at me brusquely. Then he looked me straight in the eye and told me to never work for free. To never sell myself short or question my value. I cried in my truck after that and never brought it up again.

bet Bash loves being referred to as your ‘match made in heaven.’” A mischievous grin curves across his wrinkled lips. “He hates it. Still giving me a kidney, though.”

He goes to step past me, his focus like a laser down the hallway where Clyde is resting. “So help me, if Clyde made you cry, I’ll⁠—”

Because this fire between us is bound to burn someone eventually.

“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.” A ripple of laughter rolls through the room as he

They wanted this, and as much as I love to see everyone together, my social battery drains rather quickly.

It’s normal to let your brain wander down every path of possibility. So long as we don’t let it go too far.

right now my thoughts start to turn to what must you think of me? I was often told growing up that I’m too much⁠—” “Who the fuck told you that?”

“And I allow myself to acknowledge that I am not every person’s cup of tea. Maybe I am more than they can handle. And that’s okay because I’m quite fond of myself and no one can take that away from me. I’m at peace with who I am, so what you think of me doesn’t matter.”

All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.

brought you flowers.” His gaze flicks to the vase of cheerful, yellow daffodils, soft pink ranunculus, and deep purple hyacinths in my hand. “For what? I didn’t do anything.” “You didn’t die. Congratulations. A huge accomplishment,” I fire back with my sweetest smile, already feeling better for being able to make him smirk.

“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.”

“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.

She doesn’t even look my way as she muses, “Goddamn, you must be good with your hands.” We freeze in time, and I watch pink splotches pop up on her round cheeks as she slowly turns her head in my direction. Fuck, she’s so pretty, I can’t even stand it.

“Well, I think being nice has more to do with behaving in a way that’s driven by social expectations. Whereas being kind is behaving in a way that’s driven by a concern for other people’s well-being.

I’d be rather wary of someone who is nice but not kind.”

“So it’s like how he’s being generally not nice to you in an attempt to be kind to his son?”

“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.”

Clyde’s already rounded the corner into his room, but it doesn’t stop him from calling back, “You’re just lucky we weren’t playing strip poker!” “You’re right. I’d rather not see you naked because that’s what you’d be raising with hands like this.”

“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.

“I’ve already lived in the type of household where it was preferable for me to be seen but not heard, and I’m not signing up for that again. So get your shit together and let me have a moment to myself. Maybe you should go take one for yourself too. The sand is that way.” She points down at the water. “Go get grounded.”

“Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

Clyde: I can’t believe you dated this guy. He’s a full-blown douchebag.

Clyde, on the other hand, looks me straight in the eye and announces, “This one can’t stay in my bunker when the apocalypse hits.”

that game. I don’t hide the venom in my tone either. “Fair. Not my monkeys, not my circus.” Then I turn to Clyde and point. “You are my monkey, and this is my circus, and I’m here to make you your scrambled eggs. Right?”

love that big doofus like he’s my own, and to be frank, you’re feeling an awful lot like my second doofus.”

It won’t be easy. But nothing worth having ever comes easy.”

Gwen: How long do you think you’ll be gone? Bash: Hard to say. Why? Does Clyde miss me? Gwen: No. I do.

Bash: I wanted to give you guys space. Gwen: Oh, fuck off. You’re being a petty little bitch. Just admit it.

Sure, it could have been worse, but for so many people, so many animals, this was the actual worst.

“You got this,” I say softly, not sure what’s wrong, only knowing that I would do anything to make him feel better. “I don’t know if I do,” he says back, voice rough like gravel. It makes my chest ache. “I’ve got you, then,” I

The comfort of knowing that if I’m sick, someone will be there to help. That when I get home from working a brutal wildfire, I won’t have to sit with it alone. That at the end of the day, I’ll have someone to hold for the night, letting my breathing fall in time with theirs.

It’s the simple things. It’s building a life with someone.