Daniel > Recent Status Updates

Zee arrived at the desk and smacked the bell with his palm. Ding! It chimed brilliantly. Ding! Ding!

“Sir, there’s no need to use the bell when I’m right here and at your service,” the concierge said, looking Zee dead in the eyes. He’d been standing across the desk the entire time.

“It says to push bell, imma push bell.” Zee deliberately smacked it again. Ding!

“Remind me never to gift him a squeaky toy."

Dom and I walk along our little section of the beach, the tide low, the whitecaps of the waves foamy and small. Seagulls cry out overhead. The wind has a bite to it. Dom drops his arm on my shoulder but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. We’ve already said everything that needs to be said, at least for now. All we do is walk. All we do is hold on while we still have time. All we do is breathe.

It took three days to convince Bear he only had the flu when he was sure that WebMD was telling him he had rabies.

“Have you seen Cujo? You should just put me down now!”

I looked at Otter and said, “I’ll do it, Pa, if you’ll get me the shotgun. He’s my dog. I should be the one to put him out of his misery.” I reached over and petted Bear’s head. “You’ve been a good dog. I reckon I sure am going to miss you.”

I could ask them to move out of the Green Monstrosity and just let me use it for a trophy house. Heck, by then, Otter and Bear will be married and I’ll be superfamous and will buy them a house in some country that actually likes gay people. United States of America? More like United States of Extraordinary Injustice Against Certain Segments of the Population All Because Rednecks Are Scared of Butt Sex.

I wonder if Otter or Bear will build a mantel where I could put my Lifetime PETA Awesome Award for Services to the Greater Good of Our Animal Companions (this may not have been invented yet, but I’ve written PETA four times asking for it and to let me be the first recipient of the prestigious LPAAFSTTGGOOAC. My last letter was fourteen pages. Single-spaced. With size ten Cordia font. I haven’t heard back yet.)

Bear told me being a vegetarian is stunting my growth. Bear’s always saying stuff like that because he’s jealous of how awesome I am and nervous about his immortal soul. I couldn't eat a baby cow to become taller. Besides, Bear’s short and he’s a carnivore of the highest order. I may only be nine years old, but even I know my big brother can be full of crap sometimes. He’s special that way.

Re-read 🥰

“What just happened?” It wasn’t until the redhead answered him that Alexei realized he’d asked his question out loud.

“I’d say you got Jayed.”

“Is he like that with everyone?”

“You mean unknowingly charming the pants off everyone he meets, giving devastating and sincere compliments that leave people reeling, then flouncing away without a care in the world?”

Alexei coughed weakly. “Yeah. That.”

OMG ... I'm lovin' every.single.freakin.word of this!! 🥴 Even more than 'For the Fans' ... and I didn't think that was possible! 🤯

This is giving me vibes of the excellent Blake Crouch trilogy, 'Wayward Pines' ... with undertones of 'Under the Dome' (see what I did there? 😝) by Stephen King. And I'm totally here for it! 👍😁👍

Rafael's eyes were on me. All it takes is a look from him and I feel like a dumb, helpless, enamored idiot, like a kid all over again. That can't be anything but love. I reached for his hand, twined my fingers with his. I like to feel him, to know he's there.

A knock sounded and Mickey stepped inside. "You shouldn't'a done that," Rafael said gruffly. "How do you know we weren't thanking each other?"

"Huh?"

"She's kind of like you. She's smart."

"I don't know whether I'd call myself smart. She's more like you... cranky."

"I'm not cranky. I'm differently tempered."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Do you know anything about bras?"

"Maybe she doesn't need a bra when she gets older. She can just toss 'em over her shoulders."

"Have you ever known anyone who did that?"

"My grandma."

"Two men raising a little girl..." Annie was referring to Rafael and me.

"You're not afraid we'll turn her into a trucker, are you?"

"I've seen your little girl. She's already a trucker. What are you going to do when she starts needing bras and sanitary napkins?"

Distant terror started sinking in. "Bras. That's still a thing?"

"Did you think it was a passing trend?"

"Why don't you just let them fly free?"

It was hardly the most appropriate place to start--you know--"thanking" each other. But there he was: The best thing I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that his hair looked like he'd brushed it with a cow's tongue or that he smelled like fresh grass and stale hay. What did matter was his arms locked around me felt familiar, his chest familiar against mine through the fabric of his damp shirt. My second heartbeat.

"When's the last time I thanked you?"

"You don't have to thank me for anything."

"No, when's the last time I thanked you?"

"Oh! You should thank me now."

"I'll thank you upstairs."

"Yeah. Bad etiquette to go thanking people in the living room..."

"Do you remember that time Racine was over, and she walked in on you thanking me in the kitchen?"

"You're kidding, right? I still can't look her in the eye."