dharmaavocado

“Buck,” Eddie said, the bottles hanging from one hand and the broom in the other. Buck missed him taking it. “Come play cards with us.”

He glanced into the living room. Pepa was shuffling the cards, showing off all that hard occupational therapy work. He could join them, share a beer with Eddie, let Chris make fun of his shitty poker face, not make it about himself. It’d be just like old times.

“I have to make a call,” he said.

Eddie’s eyebrows pulled in further. “You have to make a call?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave it a waggle. “It’ll just be a couple of minutes. Deal me in when I’m done.”

“You need four people to play,” Eddie said, but Buck was already gone, back door closed behind him and breathing in the night air.

In which conversations are had and Buck goes to see a friend.