Think Before You Speak Read Free Page A

definitely live with it all – and love it. Once
again, Reggie had saved my carcass.
    My usually unperturbed and composed mother
stood near the hallway, wringing her hands. “What do you think,
Victoria?”
    In an unusual move on my part, I embraced my
mother and pecked her on the cheek. “It’s perfect. Thank you,
Mom.”
    Irish eyes widened then crinkled in a smile
as she held me at arm’s length. “Oh, I’m so relieved. I wasn’t sure
about some of the fabric choices, but Reginald assured me this was
what you’d like.”
    I looked at Reggie. “Even after all these
years?”
    The hip jutted out while his hand waved
around as if holding a cigarillo out of boredom. “Reginald von
Braun never forgets. He always knows vat the ladies vant,” he said
with a brow wiggle.
    I laughed and pecked him again on the cheek.
The nice thing with having a gay friend is that they love hugs and
kisses from just about everyone – and you didn’t have to worry
about them feeling you up like a testosterone-fueled teenager. The
only thing butch about Reggie was the familiar TAG Heuer blue-faced
watch – more a pronouncement of status than fashion.
    A quick peek into the virtually empty bedroom
revealed pearl gray paint saturating the walls and a king-sized
mattress and box springs dressed with assorted pillows, sheets and
a blanket neatly folded at the foot. Once in the bedframe, I’d be
climbing Mount Everest every night just to go to bed. But at that
moment, I couldn’t have cared less about the lacking bed and
dresser. All the commercials stated that a solid mattress was the
key to a good night’s sleep anyway. I looked forward to testing
that theory tonight. Alone.
    I promise.
    ***
    The sunlight slanted across the window seat
where my contented kitty lounged. The hours waned in quick
succession after Mom and Reggie left. I’d changed into something
more comfortable, put up my hair, and after bringing in all my crap
from the car, puttered around my brand new, old space,
familiarizing myself with the new surroundings and making little
adjustments to furniture placement. I’d just finished moving the
desk when a dull knock sank into the door.
    Opening the heavy wooden door was like
swinging open a vault at Fort Knox. I really needed to ask Reggie
what it was made from. But that idea left as quickly as it arrived
when Zeke glared down his six-foot-five frame at me from beneath
his black Stetson.
    “Wanna tell me what this is?” he asked,
holding up the check I’d left on his kitchen counter.
    “Um,” I started, “payment for services
rendered?”
    An eyebrow arched before he ripped the check
in two. “I never asked you for anything, Vic. Thought I was helping
out a friend.”
    “And I appreciate that, but I figured it was
best to keep things on an equitable basis. You know, no
expectations?”
    The twinge of his cheek muscles reflected the
weighing of words before he spoke. “When were you going to tell me
you were moving out?”
    “Today?” I squeaked.
    Tired eyes darkened before Zeke’s gaze left
mine. It took all of two footfalls for him to walk through the
doorway and take in every inch of the remodel. “I like what you’ve
done with the place. Most of it fits you.”
    “Since Mom paid for it, I just gritted my
teeth and let her have at it. Reggie looked out for me though, so
can’t complain. I’m just glad to be home.”
    “Looks like someone else is too.”
    Slinky had left his sunbeam filled nest to
curl around Zeke’s ankles with a purr as loud as a motorboat. I
looked down at him with a scowl.
    “Traitor.”
    Zeke bent down with a chuckle and scratched
my tabby behind the ears. “Oh, you forgot this at my place.” He
flung a fluffy gray mouse toy across the room that sent Slinky
skittering after it. It looked like one he’d bought during our
refugee status days. That was when Zeke had shown his thoughtful
side – until I realized he was buttering up my critter in an effort
to try and get into my