“Mitch took the wheelchair with him, so I guess if y’all aren’t embarrassed by the walker…”
Like they’d be embarrassed. Shit. They were damn proud of their man. Damn proud.
“I hope you’re joking. He took the wheelchair! You’re a stud, Smokey.” Isaac hugged Neil hard. They could do that again too, now that Chou’s ribs were all healed up. “A total stud.”
“Yeah. It felt good. Still need the bars in the bathroom and all, but… That bastard thought he was going to kill me, and I’m not in that fucking chair.”
Oo-ee, there was some pride and pissiness in those words.
Isaac answered with the same energy. “You’re not. And? You’re walking out in the world, and he is in prison for the rest of his life. He and his buddies, both.”
“Two brothers, a dad, and a cousin. I’ve fucked an entire family, but—” Neil shook his head. “But that’s not something for y’all. Tacos, huh? I’ll save the cookie for after.”
“If it’s not for us, who is it for, Neil? You want a therapist to talk to?” Isaac snorted. “If not, we’re your therapy.”
“I’m not talking to a fucking shrink, but we’re not ruining supper with this nonsense. I’m celebrating.” Neil took a kiss from him. “And I’m working through it, no frowning.”
“No frowning.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “Tacos and tequila.”
“And then we snuggle, us three. In bed with the TV.”
“And cookies,” Isaac added.
“Lord y’all, let’s go. I want to show you this store. I think it could be our place, Chou. Yours and mine.” Alain wasn’t giving up on this dream. No way. Him and his Chou, they were gonna feed folks. Together.
26
It was a beautiful New York City morning. Spring had finally taken hold and the little trees along his street were green, some of them flowering. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and everything was perfect.
Of course it was, because he had a reservation to meet some friends at his favorite brunch place, which was run by his two favorite men in the whole world.
They’d done it. His boys. He couldn’t be more proud.
Isaac smiled up at the bright lettering above the door that read “Kitten Shoes,” and then he went in, stopping at the host desk.
“Doctor! Good to see you.” Bill nodded and smiled wide, the dapper older man a fixture now in the restaurant. He’d been the first person Neil had hired, a retired police officer who had been Neil’s mentor in the process of re-entering civilian life, and he was a perfect fit.
“Hey, Bill. Great to see you. How’s it going? It looks like a busy morning.” The place was packed, though he noted the empty table for four by the front windows, which was likely his reservation.
“Busy, busy. Everyone loves the beignet brunch. We’re totally booked up for three months on a Sunday morning. Neil said to tell you that you’ve got your table, and he’ll bring your coffee out in a second.”
“He’s good to me. Thanks, Bill.” He dropped a couple of dollars in the little tip jar on the host stand and headed for his table. He knew Alain wouldn’t be out until he got a break; he was the head chef after all, and he was obviously very busy today. He was about to take his seat just as Cyrus walked by, so he waited for his friend to come inside.
“This is quite a place, Isaac. Busy, hm?” Cy shook his hand.
“It’s become quite popular already. Have a seat.”
“Are Brandon and Les joining us?” Cy sat with a grin. “I heard that someone has ordered ten dozen cookies a week with cute kittens in wild shoes from Mrs. Sugarsparkles…”
Cyrus’s boy was a baker and ran a little online ordering business out of their kitchen. He was almost afraid to ask how the boy had come up with that name. “They like to keep things in the family as much as possible. Also? The cookies are so adorable. Your boy has quite a talent. There’s Brandon now.” Isaac gave a little wave, not that he needed to, the place wasn’t that big.
“Gentlemen.” There was already a spot at the table without a chair and Brandon rolled right up. “How adorable is this place? I love all the tchotchkes on the walls.”
“I’ll tell Neil; the decor was his baby. I’m told there’s coffee coming.”
“Excellent. I can’t believe how popular this place is.”
“It’s way more a neighborhood cafe feel on weekdays, man.” Neil walked up with four cafe au lait—or in his case, cafe au lait d’avoine. “Welcome in. Is Les coming, Sir?”