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Mary led a family of four along through the cat ward, letting them see all the cats that were available for adoption. She looked as tired as she felt on a daily basis. But if she wasn’t here, she’d be drinking, either at home or at Jim and Kim’s. Mary stopped walking and pointed at a kennel. “This is Mittens. She’s been with us for about a week, but she’s pretty used to people already.”
“I want a kitten!” shouted the five-year-old girl who was peering into the kennels, ignoring Mary. Typical. Every kid under seven demanded kittens. And she couldn’t tell the little brat that most of the adult cats in the shelter or on the street were because someone had gotten bored when their cute kitten grew up, so she had to stand there and bite on the interior of her cheek a little before she spoke.
“We have more adult cats than kittens, usually,” Mary said.
“Well, we’re still not sure,” said the father of the family. The fourth member of the family, a twelve-year-old boy, didn’t look very excited, even surrounded by all the animals.
“We all want to be happy with the pet we have,” said the mother. Mary took a deep breath but tried not to let her annoyance show. She could already tell that with these parents, either they were going to get a kitten to shut their daughter up, or leave without any pet just to keep the peace. She was about to suggest moving on when she saw Damien entering the ward. He had The Admiral cradled against him, the smallish, shaggy-haired cat purring loudly. Thank God, a distraction.
“Hey Dames,” Mary called out, “How’s he doing?” The Admiral was notorious for being unfriendly to most everybody but a select few, and Dames was one of the people he didn’t mind.
“Oh, The Admiral is in fine spirits today,” Damien said as he carefully peeled the cat off of his ‘Phantom Phan Phor Life’ t-shirt and placed the cat into its kennel. The boy in the visiting family perked up once he saw the cat’s face.
“Whoa, cool!” the kid shouted, “He’s got one eye!” He ran up to have a look, and Damien, taking the cat into his arms again, held him so the boy could look at the animal, too.
“Yes, he does,” Damien said. “The Admiral was found on board someone’s ship. The people who brought him in don’t know how he lost his eye, but we knew we had an adventurous pirate on our hands right away.” Damien’s tone was gentle as he talked to the boy. Mary always marveled at how he could end up sounding so damn whimsical and still be taken seriously by kids.
The boy in question reached out, and Mary went still. Moment of truth: usually the hostile feline swiped at people he didn’t like. She waited as the kid’s hand went to the cat’s head, and… More purring. Finally! She smiled, but the moment was interrupted by the little girl.
“But it’s ugly! I want a kitten!”
“Oh, but my dear,” Damien said, “That’s quite a hurtful thing to say; he may not be a kitten anymore, but The Admiral does need just as much love.” He allowed the boy to take hold of the cat, while Damien spoke to the parents. “Not many children are comfortable with pets with a missing eye or special need. But I assure you, The Admiral and other animals like him are well cared for, healthy, and have had all the same vaccines and shots as others, and he is fixed of course.”
“He’s so cool, dad!” the boy said, “Can we take him, please? Please?”
Damien looked through each face, and again went down to one knee. “Why don’t you come pet him?” he asked the daughter in the group. The little girl looked skeptical, but eventually made her way over and reached out. Mary warily watched again until she heard the cat purring from the tiny hand that rubbed its chin. Her look of distrust vanished.
“He likes me!” the girl chimed.
“I think he’s chosen a crew,” Damien said. The parents just looked at each other before giving in. Mary smirked and wormed her way over.
“Great,” she said, “Come with me, and we’ll get the papers for you. Dames, can you get The Admiral’s fish?”
“But of course,” he replied, getting a squeaking fish toy from the cat’s kennel before he shut its door.
After the family left with their new addition, and Mary had put all her paperwork away, she gave Damien a look. “How the hell do you do it?”
“How do I do what, dear Mary?” he asked innocently.
“Don’t pull that. You’ve got some weird ability to get people to take pets that shouldn’t mesh at all, and yet they’re perfect. God, I can’t believe even The Admiral got adopted!”
“Well, it was a matter of personality, I suppose, and allowing the pet to choose.”
“Whatever. I’m starting to think you actually learned actual magic or something,” she walked along with him through the building to the break room. She cleaned her hands up and went to the vending machines for a soda and some chips. “So, what’s new, honey?”
“Life is as it has always been,” Damien answered her as he bought a bottled water from the machines. “I have nothing terribly new to report.”
“Bull,” she said, sitting down at the one round table in the room. “What about with Robert?”
Damien rolled his eyes. “You’ve asked me that far too often since you’ve learned of our relationship, and the answer is the same: it is a private matter.”
“C’mon, Dames!” she picked up her drink and took a swig. “You have to tell me.”
“I do not,” Damien said. He squared his shoulders back and turned his head away from her. “We are not teenagers anymore, Mary. I don’t have to tell you everything about my love-life.”
“I tell you everything,” she countered.
“Yes, you do. Mostly your dissatisfaction,” Damien muttered. “Remind me, why do you remain with Joseph, again?”
“Sometimes I wonder, too,” she said, though that wasn’t it. Mary knew Joseph was shit; he rarely showed any attraction to her, they fought behind closed doors more times than she could count, and he hardly let her have anything to do with the kids because she drank, even though she felt she could function just fine with half a bottle of wine in her, thank you very fucking much. She suspected he was stealing from the church (without proof, but she wasn’t a moron), and she knew he had a wandering eye (and dick). But in spite of all that, she still loved him. Still saw Joseph as that stick-up-his-ass pretty boy who needed to let loose and live a little, and who gave her the best sex of her life. He was still a damned pretty boy, still good in bed whenever he actually wanted to have sex, and she was still hoping to find that damn stick and yank it out of him someday. Until then… Well, she liked having a new distraction to keep her from dwelling on her dysfunctional marriage. She turned to Damien, and said, “But we’re not talking about that.”
“Mary,” he said, using the same tone he brought out for misbehaving puppies.
“You haven’t had a relationship in for-fuck-ever, so excuse me for being curious!” She took a few chips out to munch, then after another swig of soda, she gave her friend a serious look. “Besides, I’m not just asking because I’m bored as fuck. I actually wanna know: does Robert treat you all right?”
Damien was quiet as he sipped at his water. “He treats me… exceptionally,” he finally said. “He and I communicate daily, either through letters or a visit. He’s at my house almost nightly, now, and… He is always tender with me.” Mary couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the expression her friend was making as he confessed all this to her. His cheeks were pink, his eyes were down, and he looked damned bashful, but proud. She hadn’t seen him this happy in years.
“Lucky,” Mary told him. “I’m happy to hear that he hasn’t shit all over things. I like Robert a lot, and I love having him as a drinking buddy, but Dames, and this is the truth, he wasn’t someone I’d want to set up with anybody… At least not until now. I should be mad at you for taking him out of the bar—it gets boring without him!” She reached over and fake-punched Damien’s arm. “But I forgive you. You deserve to be happy, and if he gets less fucked up from you, it’s fine.”
“Such generosity,” Damien snarked, though his tone didn’t match his face. She could tell that he was glad to have her approval. Not that he needed it, but Mary appreciated the thought. It was a damn lot more than her husband ever gave her before he did anything. But something was poking at the back of her head. Did Dames know about… all that stuff?
“So, does Robert talk about anything from the past?” she asked.
Damien looked confused, then he seemed to be thinking. When he did answer, it was what she feared. “No. He doesn't. I did ask him once why he moved to Maple Bay, but he seemed troubled by the question. I let it be. Should I have pressed?”
“Nah,” Mary told him. “Just wondered. Robert’s all about the now, anyway, so don’t let it bother you.” The past was Robert’s thing to tell, if he ever chose to. She wasn’t about to spill to Damien anything about Val or Marilyn… and even though she’d told Damien about Joseph’s infidelity, she never told him who her husband had fucked. None of it was her place, and she didn’t want to mess this up for either man.
Damien let out a sigh. “He said as much, as well. He also said everyone has secrets, and there are some I still have, after all.”
“So don’t worry,” Mary reiterated. She finished her snack and tossed the chip bag and soda can into the garbage. “Just enjoy things. And let me know if he ever does something stupid or hurts you.”
“I can take care of myself, Mary. Do you distrust him?”
“No,” Mary said, “But I also know that when Robert’s drunk, he can lose what little filter he’s got and he can be an asshole.”
“I know his faults well,” Damien said. “But every human is a work in progress. I hope he will yet become someone you won’t worry over.”
Mary smirked. The abrupt sound of a text alert filled the break room. The two reached for their phones. Mary’s was blank.
“Ah, speak of the devil, so they say,” Damien said, tapping at his screen a bit before he went dead still, and his cheeks and ears erupted in red blush. What was this, now? Mary came up to look over his shoulder.
“Damn! You get that thing in you?” she teased.
“THISISAPRIVATETEXT!!” Damien shrieked, clutching the phone to his chest. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing loud and hard. She backed up against the soda machine.
“Whatever!” she cawed between laughter. “God, didn’t think I’d ever see Robert’s veiny dick!”
“I- I’m going to clean out the rabbit sanctuary!” Damien announced, shoving his phone into his pocket.
“Dames!” Mary called. “Damien, I’m sorry, honey!” She chased after him. She wasn’t too worried about him staying mad. Damien always forgave her.
Robert hadn’t been inside his watering hole for a while. He knew a lot of the regulars and old Neil would probably be thinking that he’d finally drunk himself into a ditch. He opened the door to the bar up at around seven o’clock, pretty early in the evening, but in plenty of time for the beginning of the game that blared from the TVs strung around the bar. He took a look around and after spotting Neil, and giving him a wave in return to the welcoming nod, Robert saw another familiar face.
“Hey,” Robert said to his neighbor and friend. He sidled up next to the man. “Been a while, Pal.”
“Hey!” The guy was still way too over-eager to talk to people, but that was part of his weird charm, Robert guessed. “Yeah, I’ve been kind of busy, what with Amanda packing for college, and a few other things.”
“Is that what Craig is?” Robert asked. “A few things?”
“Hey,” his buddy said, “Craig is many things! My bro, a good dad, a smart business owner—”
“A good fuck?” Robert said, teasing. He looked over at Neil and called, “Two whiskeys! Soon as you can pour ‘em.”
“Don’t talk about the love of my life like that,” Robert’s friend said in a fake-defensive tone, before his face showed the truth by going bright red. “…And yes. Yes he is.”
Robert let out a bark of laughter. Neil set their drinks down, and Robert raised his glass up. “To good fucks, then.”
“And…And good bros,” his friend replied before they tossed the drinks back. “So,” the other man said, “I, um… noticed you haven’t been around much, either.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of investigatin’ to do,” Robert told him.
“…At Damien’s house?”
Robert chuckled. Ah, time to fess up. But he’d have a little fun with the guy, too. “Well,” Robert said, “I’ve always suspected the guy to be a vampire. And, I know you got kinda buddy-buddy with him at one point, but that don’t change my suspicions.”
“Are you breaking into his house?”
“Fuck no! That’s just chicken-shit.” Robert paused to order them more booze, and after another shot of whiskey, he continued. “I saw him one night in the graveyard, and decided to be up-front. Asked him what his deal is. It’s my duty to look into this stuff, ya know.”
“Like with the Dover Ghost?” his buddy asked.
“Just like with that! Anyway, he looks at me, and says all sultry and dark, ‘Would you care to know, Mister Small? Allow me into your home, and I shall tell you’.” Robert could tell his story had his friend hooked. He never got tired of yanking the guy’s chain. “So I lead him to my place, and let him in.” Robert dropped his voice down, low enough that they were the only ones who could hear, and leans in a bit. “He grabbed me by my shoulders, and looked me right in the eyes. Next thing I know, he’s on my neck, and bitin’ in. Except I’m not scared or fightin’—I’m likin’ it! But I snap out of whatever trance he had me in, and I turn the tables; I dragged him to my couch, and pinned him down, and yanked his pants down.”
Robert’s friend stared at him with eyes wide and slightly dilated pupils. Time to reel it in for the kill.
“After that,” Robert said, “I sent him on home. But he turns up at my door again, and you know what for?”
“What?”
“Turns out he’s addicted.” Robert pulled back and sat up a bit taller on the bar stool. “So, every night I let him suck some blood, and somethin’ else. And that’s how I tamed the Maple Bay Vampire with my dick.”
Robert watched his friend’s face for a minute, seeing a sliver of belief in there, before the other man frowned, and furrowed his eyebrows.
“That didn’t happen.”
Robert laughed again. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Robert admitted. “Damien’s not a vampire. Jeez, man, who’d think that.”
“You’re losing your touch,” his pal said.
“Eh, what can I say?” Robert gestured for more whiskey, which was brought. He lifted his glass, and said, “I am fuckin’ him, though.”
“What?” the guy asks, confused.
“Damien. Me and him. We’re a thing.”
Robert’s pal looked at him a bit longer before sputtering, “That’s…But… Wait—You weren’t lying about that part?”
“No,” Robert said. “I wasn’t. I’m seein’ him. He’s… a surprising guy.”
“Well, yeah, he is,” his friend said, “But, I just… He’s not really your type.”
“What’s that mean?” Robert asked.
“Just,” his friend seemed to be looking for the words, “Damien’s really… He’s into manners, and gentlemanly stuff; he likes writing long letters, and sending flowers, and poetry, and other things, and you’re…”
“I’m what?” Robert asked. Robert didn’t know why he was getting angry about this. He knew from the start that him and Dames weren’t exactly a perfect match. But, somehow, he’d gotten used to things. Forgot that even with how crazy they were for each other, they were a couple that most people didn’t immediately think up. Maybe it was because his friend had gotten to know Dames a little before Robert had. Maybe it was knowing Damien had been attracted to the guy, once. Or remembering that he, too, had once found the guy attractive enough to proposition. Robert tried to push some of his anger downward. Doesn’t do well to be possessive.
His buddy, though, stopped, then said, “Actually… You two… might be good for one another.”
Well, no duh—but Robert was still surprised to hear it from his friend. “Think so?”
“Yeah,” his friend said. “I mean… I won’t lie. Before I got close with Craig again, I… had a little bit of a crush on Damien.”
Robert remembered how upset Dames had been about the guy choosing Cahn instead. Honestly, Robert should be thanking the man for not going through with this ‘crush’ and going for the health-nut instead. And thanking him for not accepting Robert’s own offer for sex. But Robert played dumb, to see where this conversation led, and besides, he wasn’t about to let the guy know Dames had once reciprocated that attraction. “That a fact?” Robert asked.
“I don’t have one now, obviously!” his friend assured him. Good. “I just know that Damien’s charming. And he’s sincere. He’s full of passion for his hobbies, and he’s kind, and sort of bubbly under the black clothes and the Goth makeup. But…”
“But?” Robert prompted.
“But he also seemed to be holding himself back. Like… I don’t know, it felt like he didn’t want to share everything. Like he was trying too hard, sometimes, to keep up that debonair, suave Gothic Gentleman appearance. I always felt like he was hiding something, and it didn’t sit well with me. And sometimes he seemed too scared to step out of being Victorian and mysterious to actually do more than sit and look intriguing.”
Robert held back the urge to blurt out that he knew exactly what Dames had been hiding, and that he was making sure that his fella didn’t have to hide things anymore. Meanwhile, his friend continued.
“Maybe being with you, he can learn to let go of that persona, some. Have a little more fun. Be more adventurous.” Robert’s friend smiled. “I’m glad you’re opening up to more people, too.”
Robert looked at his glass. Well, he’d definitely encouraged some adventure in Dames’s life. But… Robert still had some skeletons in his closet, ones that neither Dames nor their neighbor knew. Robert didn’t want to talk about any of it if he could avoid it. Robert pushed his empty glass away, and put some cash on the counter.
“Thanks, buddy,” Robert said. “I’m glad you’re okay with it.”
“More than okay.” Robert’s friend gestured to the TVs. “Not stickin’ around for the game?”
“Can’t,” Robert said. He smiled a little. “I got a date.” He stuck his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “See ya around.”
“Later!”
Robert left the bar, and started walking for home. He checked his watch. Enough time to clean up a bit, get some pizza ordered, and be ready for Dames. Robert was going to make sure his boy had a good time tonight.