Page 60 of Out on a Limb

“Do you want a slice of pizza, Dad?” Hobie ran to the dining table and pulled a slice of cheese pizza. Grease dripped onto the floor, but Cameron didn’t seem to care. Walker’s stomach growled at the aroma.

He ate that piece in three bites.

“We also played bowling. I got a strike! Do you know what they call three strikes in a row?” Hobie asked.

Walker played along. “You’re out?”

“No! That’s baseball. They call it turkey!”

“Who came up with that?” Cameron asked. “Was bowling invented over Thanksgiving? Le sports people are so weird.”

“What do you think of Beerza?” Hobie asked. “Cameron and his friends helped with folding and cutting the pieces, but I told them where to put it.”

Walker got eye level with his son. “It was still a team effort, Hobie.”

“I know.”

“Now does Beerza cook or clean?”

“No!” Hobie roared back with laughter. It was music to Walker’s ears. Sometimes at night, before he went to sleep, he worried that Hobie would never laugh like that around him again.

Walker squeezed him tight. “This is so cool!”

“Can we take it home?”

“You bet!”

“Can Beerza sit in the front seat?”

“Of course not!” Walker said with the same chipper tone.Beerza. Cute name.

Beerza?

His attention whipped back to the bowling alley. They were all beer bottles. The robot’s arms were lined with Corona, Goose Island, and Miller labels.

“We weren’t drinking with Hobie,” Cameron said, reading his expression. “I had some friends over when you called. This was their mess, but not one sip of alcohol was consumed in his presence. I promise.”

He didn’t have words. Hobie’s baby-sitters never did anything like this. Hell, not even his teachers. And he doubted Doug and Ron let Hobie get this artistic and make a mess.

“Thank you,” Walker said. His voice quaked with emotion.

“You already said that,” Cameron said with a soft smile, one that said he understood but wasn’t going to make a scene.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Walker shot him a look.

“Okay fine. For the cab and pizza, let’s say fifty bucks.”

Walker handed him three twenties. Cameron didn’t try to make change. He forgot all about the shitty day and shitty night he had. That all evaporated once he stepped inside the apartment. Happiness expanded inside him like a helium balloon.

“You’re good with kids,” Walker said.

Cameron shrugged. “Maybe I’m not terrible.”

Walker grabbed another piece of pizza. “How was it picking up Hobie? Did you have any trouble?”