A Tale of Two Trucks by Thea Nishimori Read Free Book Online Page B

tied it in with hunting and made it feel more macho.
    “That’s just… amazing…” was Joe’s comment, repeated every so often. I added a few bright stars in the sky and stepped back to take in the completed effect. It was stunning, if I do say so myself!
    “I mean, if I could’ve asked for a painting—if I could’ve even come up with something—it would look just like that! It’s perfect ,” he declared, making me beam with pleasure.
    For the tailgate we decided to continue the hunting theme, so I painted a tree with a blind in it, the end of a rifle poking out and covering up the crossbar of the F , and on the other side I put a huge twelve-point buck, its antlers hiding the U . Then it was time for a break, and Joe insisted on taking me out to dinner so I wouldn’t have to cook.
    We went to Applebee’s again, and over my Fiesta Lime Chicken and his New York Strip, he asked me about Brandon. It was hard, especially since I realized now how naïve I had been back then. But I felt like I owed it to Joe, not only because he’d opened up to me about his baby, but also because he was asking about it because he wanted to know—because he cared . It was comforting to have him listen so intently, wincing when I came to the part where I’d found my lover with someone else.
    “I’m surprised that’s all you did to them,” he quietly remarked.
    “If I were as big as you, I’m sure I would’ve ripped off their arms and legs and beat them with their own limbs,” I growled. Then we both laughed at the mental imagery. “I may be small, but I’m fierce!”
    “I will testify to that ,” Joe said, raising his right hand and trying to look serious.
    While we shared a Triple Chocolate Meltdown (my favorite), I felt comfortable enough to tell him a bit about my mother, by way of explaining why I’d been so needy when Brandon came along, and also why I now shunned one of my old hangouts.
    “But with the photos of what he did to my truck now, you should be able to march right in there, right?” Joe prodded.
    I took another bite of the melting ice cream and chocolate fudge before answering, noncommittally, “Maybe….”
    “Tell you what,” he said with a warm smile that lit up his eyes, “let’s go hang out at my old bar tonight! A lot of the guys from work go there on the weekend, so we should be able to find some of them. And I’m sure for a round of beers, one of them will let me borrow his car, and all of them will swear that I never left the building!”
    “Oh! So you want to put our plan into action right now ?” I asked, feeling my pulse quicken.
    “Well, yeah! Ya gotta strike while the iron’s hot. And this way, I’ll even have an alibi !”
    We both chortled evilly before heading out into the night.

Chapter 9
     
     
    T HE success of our plan hung on the condition that Brandon was as much a creature of habit as he had been when he and I were still living together. I was confident he was, at least in this matter: every Saturday night, and most Friday nights, he would go to Cocktales for a few drinks and some dancing. And regardless of how good a time he was having, he would always leave no later than ten o’clock, because even on the weekends he got up at the same time in the morning.
    I’d thought it an admirable trait at first, when we were dating, but later on I wondered why he couldn’t be more flexible. We’d argued about it often, since I liked to sleep in when I could but he would get sulky if I didn’t fix him breakfast. Now, of course, Joe and I were going to exploit his punctuality. It’s a dangerous thing to make enemies when you’re that predictable!
    We stopped by Joe’s place to pick up his old, nondescript gray hoodie and a pair of leather work gloves. I wished we had the time to go to my place too so I could change, since I’d worn a bright fuchsia shirt over my favorite pair of white skinny jeans. I felt rather nervous about walking into a straight bar dressed like