I got separated from Danny in the crowd
and went to look for the bar. After the
week I'd had, I really needed a drink, and I
thought I'd bring him one, too. He had
been very reluctant to attend this little
shindig. I don't know why . . . I guess he
just wanted a quiet night. But he was
really sweet to come for my benefit. He's
always bending over backward to make
me happy, and I try to do the same.
Sometimes, we're just sickening, I must
admit, but it's because we just love each
other very much.
I asked someone where he got his drink,
and he gestured with it toward the back of
the house. Near the door to the backyard,
the kitchen counter featured a miniature
skyline of booze bottles. Bob had really
gone all out, I thought as I grabbed two
glasses.
That's when I saw him, the weasel. He
crept up next to me. Creeping around is in
Doug's nature, I suppose. Danny once
told me that, when they were together,
Doug would enter rooms like a stealthy
vampire and start reading over his
shoulder or change the channel on the
television. Anything to maintain a high
annoyance level, I suppose.
My own annoyance must have shown on
my face and in my body language, but I
decided to take the high road. "Hi Doug. I
didn't know you knew Bob."
"We slept together once," he said. I
doubted that, as I was pretty sure Bob's
type was different, but he was a big
enough slut that the possibility existed.
"Well," I said at length. "That's nice."
He saw the two glasses in my hand. "Is
that other one for Danny? Is he here?"
I sighed and nodded. There was no point
in lying. Poor Danny . . . he hadn't wanted
to come at all, and now he had THIS to
deal with.
"I'm glad you came," Doug said out of
nowhere. He seemed nervous, but also
sort of smug at the same time.
Then he . . .