CASUAL AFFAIR; brendon urie

Chapter Forty-Two

The rest of the week after that passed without much incident. It was, if I'm being honest, quite boring. I gave Breezy the gifts for her, Dallon and the kids after Olive Garden, and then just sat, on my couch, for about an hour, not touching my case to unpack, not doing anything but sit, and think.

I went back to work the next day, and Jessa, like a dog that's left home alone for the day, seemed eager, yappy and bouncy upon seeing me. Literally bouncy. She bounded up to me and squeezed me in a hug that, if any tighter, would have rearranged a few internal organs.

"Hey," I laughed a little wheezily, patting her back. "Good to see you, too."

When she pulled away, keeping a hard grip on my shoulders, she was giving me a grin so wide it would give little kids nightmares. "My hypothesis was correct." She turned to Tommy, hovering in the background, hands pushed into his jean pockets, looking a little awkward, and nodded. He smiled back, and nodded. Before I could ask what, she slapped my cheek affectionately. "You've only gotten uglier in the past month."

I rolled my eyes. "Love you, too, Jess."

"I kid, I kid." She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me further into the shop. "See how well we did when you were gone? We didn't burn the shop down, or anything."

"Well, uh, actually Jessa almost-" Tommy started, but Jessa shot him a look, and he shut up.

"So what I miss?" I said, finally wriggling free of Jessa's embrace, and turning the sign on the door to say Open.

"I played a couple more shows." Tommy shrugged nonchalantly. "They're thinking about giving me a semi-permanent slot. Maybe even trying me out at other clubs."

"Aw, that's amazing." I said, and pulled him into a hug. "Seriously, Tommy."

He ducked his head sheepishly, scuffing his foot. "S'nothing."

"And they say you should do your bit for charity every year." Jessa chimed in. "So I went to see that loser perform." She hooked her thumb at him.

Jessa going to Tommy's shows? Plural? I guess pigs really can fly.

"I actually have one tomorrow, on Sunday. A mid-day thing at the Barbeque boozer." He tacked on, like he'd almost forgot "If you want to come."

I sighed, feeling terrible instantly. "I would, Tommy. I would, but ... it's been non-stop, and Sunday's my first day off in, like, ever. So I'm gonna spend the day in the company of Ferris Bueller, sweats and take-away pizza." I squeezed his upper arm. "But next time. Or so help me, you can shave off one of my eyebrows and stick it back on in a permanent questioning look."

He looked disheartened, but let out a snort of laughter at the last part. "Sorta elaborate for a forfeit, don't you think, chief?"

"I'll do it!" Jessa yelled, already poking and sniffing around the bag that I'd brought their presents in. Yet another comparison of Jessa to a dog greeting its owner. I could sense her growing impatience, so with a sigh, I went into the bags and produced the dancing palm tree and jewellery.

"Eep!" she snatched the bracelet and necklace from me, sliding the former over her wrist, and admiring it for a second, before putting the latter over her head, the tooth coming to rest just before the dip between her cleavage. She said something that sounded like 'fierce!' but in a really growly, yowly voice, before taking the palm tree. She frowned at it as she turned it over in her hands, before pressing the button. Her face lit up as it danced and wiggled. "Oh my god." She shook her hips. "I'm naming it Kyle."

Tommy said 'Kyle?' dubiously at the same time I asked "Why Kyle?"

"Kyle's a nice name, don't hate."