Sadly, I never found out if that was the case because the taxi drove off, I got pulled off balance and onto my hands and knees on the road. I’d been dragged fifteen feet down the road as the skirt made its way down my legs and off into the wide-open world.
I’d ended up spending the day in the ER getting cuts and scrapes cleaned out and bandaged up. Sadly, the story also made it into the news thanks to passersby and their fucking, fucking cell phones.
I’d also sneezed while I was having a cavity filled. Doesn’t sound too bad? Think about it—the dentist’s face was right in front of my mouth while he filled in the cavity. He was drilling away when one of those sneezes that totally takes you by surprise came flying out of me. It was so bad I never went back to him.
I could go on, but then there’s Gjorka and everything he was doing. That was pretty uncomfortable. So was driving across the country with people I didn’t know, checking into seedy motels, and getting a wink from the person at the desk. Then some guy knocking on your door in the middle of the night at said motel because he got the wrong room and not being disappointed about the fact that you weren’t the one he’d paid for.
But I swear, nothing beats the awkwardness and discomfort of sitting in a room with a booger in your nose singing Yankee Doodle Dandy to the other occupants.
And did Carter apologize for jinxing me when I told him? When I described the absolute torment of hearing nothing but silence but then forgetting I was meant to breathe in through my mouth and there being a piercing whistling noise, did he feel bad?
Did he hell! He laughed so hard, he pulled up onto the sidewalk and got out, an irritating roaring laugh coming out of him as he braced on the hood of the car.
I was looking at all of the buttons, trying to figure out which one would turn on the siren when one of the other P.V.P.D. vehicles pulled up in front of us, and Logan of all people got out. I was hoping for Dave or Raoul, who were more serious, or maybe even Garrett, who might take pity on me and be sympathetic. But no, it was him.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see expressions and read them better than words in a book. I saw the confusion on Logan’s face as he said something to Carter, I noticed him frown when Carter replied. I then watched his eyebrows go so high that the chunk of hair that’d fallen down at the front hung lower than where they ended up, and I also saw his eyes shoot over to where I was and how he ignored the glare that I shot him.
But I swear I must’ve blinked and missed the moment that any self-control he had disappeared as Carter’s hand started making little exploding motions as he held it against his nose, and Logan threw his head back, and a burst of laughter belted out of him.
The only thing I could think was—in that position, it would be karma if a bird shit in his mouth.
Just when I didn’t think that it could get any worse, another car pulled up in front of Logans and out got Canon. This time, I just covered my face with my hands and left them to it, hoping and praying for a flock of birds to fly over them and all get diarrhea at the same time.
A group of crows was called a murder, right? How perfect would that be?
Then a deep bellowing laugh joined the others, and I peeked through my fingers and saw Canon bent over with his hands braced on his thighs.
Really, my torment hadn’t been that funny, if you don’t count how horrified I was when it sounded like the booger was playing Another One Bites The Dust when I laughed at something one of the people in the meeting had said. It hadn’t just been me who’d thought it either, because one of the guys had asked the principal if the music class was learning to play the flute and how awesome it was that the music included Queen when all he’d had was classical stuff in his as a kid.
Fuck my life.
Drawing in a deep breath, I regained control of my embarrassment. Seeing as how I had zero control over anything else in my life, at least I could do that.
I needed to get home and eat something to make myself feel better. Saltines, cheddar, and pickle slices sounded good about now and were relatively guilt-free comfort food that I could make with one hand. So, I reached over and put my hand on the horn, scaring the shit out of all three of them, who jumped and spun to glare at me at the same time.
Unfortunately, I put my right hand down on what I thought was just part of the stand for the computer to go on, not realizing that it had buttons on it, too. Because of the cast, I couldn’t feel what was under it until something clicked softly, and a brrrr-ing noise blasted out, making them jump even higher.
Did you know it was an offense to do that in a police vehicle? I didn’t. Just as well Carter wasn’t Dave and I wasn’t Tabby, because she’d spent more hours in the cells than even the most prolific Piersville lawbreakers, and he’d totally have carted her in for that.
Then again, that was life foreplay for him, and Carter told me as he drove me home that they knew just to look the other way when he brought her in. That didn’t mean I didn’t get a verbal warning for doing it, though.
However, I’m fairly certain all three of them soiled their undies, and Logan got shit on by a bird as he walked back to his car. He’d just started to lower his ass into the seat when something hit his shoulder, and he started yelling for napkins and holy water.
I was bummed that the retribution had only been felt by him when Carter deserved more. But that’s where my baby came into it and showed me how amazing he truly was.
Like Garrett, Carter insisted on taking his work boots off in the house, except he took his off at the door before he even went in. He also did a walk around the house to make sure it was all clear and safe.
That’s where my baby got payback for his momma. We would discover later that whenever Garrett had gone to the store, he’d only focused on buying food for Clyde, not on what a change in diet would do to his stomach if he changed brands. Apparently, most dogs and cats needed to have a food change done gradually, and Garrett had been doing it each time. It wasn’t about what was the cheapest, he’d gone for the one that had a display up that caught his attention when it outlined precisely how good for our boy it was going to be.
In fact, this morning, I’d opened another new bag, kind of liking how plain the packaging was, but how formal and professional it looked, and how perfectly sized the kibble was when I poured some out for Clyde. That meant that while we’d been away, the poor guy’s stomach had had time to process the change in diet, and his ass had reacted in the only way it knew how.
So, with only socks on his feet, Carter had stepped right into a massive pile of shit.
“What the fuck is tha— Is that shit?” he snapped, hitting the light to make sure.
I could have told him from the smell alone that the likelihood of it being shit was pretty much near one hundred percent, but instead I leaned against the wall and watched him lift his foot up and then gag.
“Jesus Christ, why would he— I can’t,” he said, heaving after it.
“You might want to go and wash that off in the bathroom. Normally he does it in the shower there, but it seems like today he was feeling more like sharing it with us.”
Glaring at me over his shoulder—something which was made hilarious by the dry heave that came out of him as he did it—he started hopping toward the bathroom in the hallway while I moved to the kitchen to pick up my cleaning stuff. I’d found a clothes peg in a drawer last week, and instead of throwing it away, I’d added it to the ‘shit shoveling kit’. Because I was smart, I popped it on my nose before I went back over to the mess.