Page 40
Story: Cisco
This was an unexpected boon. Earlier, before he’d fallen completely into the Land of Nod, he’d been contemplating cheese and crackers for supper, since he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to cook. But now, with something homemade from his aunt’s kitchen being placed on the table, he was psyched at the upgrade.
By the time Cisco was refreshed and comfortable, he made his way back to the kitchen to see a large bowl of his aunt’s pesto-covered, goat-cheese ravioli on the table, along with a huge loaf of homemade bread that still looked warm. Plates and flatware were already on the table.
“When did you have time to cook all this, Auntie?” Cisco asked, taking a seat as his visitors did, as well. “Weren’t you at a quilting thing this weekend?”
She huffed, lifting his plate and spooning on a huge portion. “You think, once I heard from your mother this morning about what happened yesterday, that I could spend another minute stitching fabric?”
“My mother worries too much, but?—"
Just as Cisco was about to thank her, his doorbell rang again.
“Geeze. Grand Central Station around here tonight,” he quipped, easing up from his chair to get the door.
“There’s plenty for another mouth,” Aunt Suze called after him. “And I suspect it’s Dieter. I left a note telling him where we’d be if he wanted to stop by. And of course he was concerned about you, too.”
Dieter, Frank and Suze’s son, had been his best friend since grade school, and Cisco had wondered how long the man could stay away.
“Hey, Diets,” Cisco greeted as he pulled open the door before teasing. “You just couldn’t let me have your mom’s ravioli for left-overs, could you?”
“And let your trim physique suffer since you won’t be able to work out for a while?” Dieter responded, giving him a huge grin. “I’m doing you a huge favor, asshole.”
“Language, Dieter,” his mother called from the other room.
“Yes, Ma,” he said dutifully, but shot Cisco a friendly bird, just the same. “You going to invite me in, or what?”
“I am. And make it quick before your dad eats everything.”
Frank Ildavorg—almost as much as Cisco—was known for his enormous appetite.
An hour later, with every scrap of food having been consumed and the entire scene outside the bank having been rehashed a dozen times, his aunt loaded his dishwasher, then Frank packed up their empty containers and made to leave.
“If you need anything else,” Aunt Suze told him, “just call. I know your mother is working all week, but I’m available to take care of you.”
Cisco looked at her, puzzled. “I’ll, uh, also be at work tomorrow,” he informed her.
“Oh, no you won’t,” Uncle Frank admonished. “You’ll take the week off. I’m not having you rip your chest open to bleed all over your uniform on my watch. That bike you ride is a monster, and I can’t see you wrangling it around town without doing additional damage.”
Cisco blinked. “I’ll take my truck, then,” he offered.
When was the last time he’d had a week off? Never? The most he’d missed had been a weekend day here or there for his teammates’ recent weddings.
“That’s also a no.” His uncle and chief laid down the law. “You are not to show up in uniform until a week from tomorrow. Am I understood?”
Cisco felt like he needed to confess. “But I’ve, uh, already made plans to head to Camp Venture on Tuesday.”
His uncle pondered for a moment. “Will you be physically teaching?”
“No. I’ve discussed it with Hilly, uh, Miss Duncan, and I’ll be giving verbal instruction only until the doctor clears me for action.”
“Then yes. By all means. Go out to the lake and enjoy yourself,” Uncle Frank directed him.
With tender hugs and air kisses, both his aunt and uncle were soon out the door. Which left him with Dieter.
“Shouldn’t you be getting home, too?” Cisco asked. “Don’t you have to be up at some ridiculously stupid hour to spend the day lounging around on your boat?”
Cisco was joking. In reality, Dieter worked damned hard hauling traps all day.
“Dick,” Dieter returned with a grin. “You’re just trying to get rid of me so you don’t have to tell me about…Hilly. Don’t think I didn’t catch that first name drop, or the light in your lecherous eyes when you mentioned her.”
By the time Cisco was refreshed and comfortable, he made his way back to the kitchen to see a large bowl of his aunt’s pesto-covered, goat-cheese ravioli on the table, along with a huge loaf of homemade bread that still looked warm. Plates and flatware were already on the table.
“When did you have time to cook all this, Auntie?” Cisco asked, taking a seat as his visitors did, as well. “Weren’t you at a quilting thing this weekend?”
She huffed, lifting his plate and spooning on a huge portion. “You think, once I heard from your mother this morning about what happened yesterday, that I could spend another minute stitching fabric?”
“My mother worries too much, but?—"
Just as Cisco was about to thank her, his doorbell rang again.
“Geeze. Grand Central Station around here tonight,” he quipped, easing up from his chair to get the door.
“There’s plenty for another mouth,” Aunt Suze called after him. “And I suspect it’s Dieter. I left a note telling him where we’d be if he wanted to stop by. And of course he was concerned about you, too.”
Dieter, Frank and Suze’s son, had been his best friend since grade school, and Cisco had wondered how long the man could stay away.
“Hey, Diets,” Cisco greeted as he pulled open the door before teasing. “You just couldn’t let me have your mom’s ravioli for left-overs, could you?”
“And let your trim physique suffer since you won’t be able to work out for a while?” Dieter responded, giving him a huge grin. “I’m doing you a huge favor, asshole.”
“Language, Dieter,” his mother called from the other room.
“Yes, Ma,” he said dutifully, but shot Cisco a friendly bird, just the same. “You going to invite me in, or what?”
“I am. And make it quick before your dad eats everything.”
Frank Ildavorg—almost as much as Cisco—was known for his enormous appetite.
An hour later, with every scrap of food having been consumed and the entire scene outside the bank having been rehashed a dozen times, his aunt loaded his dishwasher, then Frank packed up their empty containers and made to leave.
“If you need anything else,” Aunt Suze told him, “just call. I know your mother is working all week, but I’m available to take care of you.”
Cisco looked at her, puzzled. “I’ll, uh, also be at work tomorrow,” he informed her.
“Oh, no you won’t,” Uncle Frank admonished. “You’ll take the week off. I’m not having you rip your chest open to bleed all over your uniform on my watch. That bike you ride is a monster, and I can’t see you wrangling it around town without doing additional damage.”
Cisco blinked. “I’ll take my truck, then,” he offered.
When was the last time he’d had a week off? Never? The most he’d missed had been a weekend day here or there for his teammates’ recent weddings.
“That’s also a no.” His uncle and chief laid down the law. “You are not to show up in uniform until a week from tomorrow. Am I understood?”
Cisco felt like he needed to confess. “But I’ve, uh, already made plans to head to Camp Venture on Tuesday.”
His uncle pondered for a moment. “Will you be physically teaching?”
“No. I’ve discussed it with Hilly, uh, Miss Duncan, and I’ll be giving verbal instruction only until the doctor clears me for action.”
“Then yes. By all means. Go out to the lake and enjoy yourself,” Uncle Frank directed him.
With tender hugs and air kisses, both his aunt and uncle were soon out the door. Which left him with Dieter.
“Shouldn’t you be getting home, too?” Cisco asked. “Don’t you have to be up at some ridiculously stupid hour to spend the day lounging around on your boat?”
Cisco was joking. In reality, Dieter worked damned hard hauling traps all day.
“Dick,” Dieter returned with a grin. “You’re just trying to get rid of me so you don’t have to tell me about…Hilly. Don’t think I didn’t catch that first name drop, or the light in your lecherous eyes when you mentioned her.”
Table of Contents
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