Page 12 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

Past time to go.

“Since I didn’t even bring a swimsuit, and since it looks like you’re going to survive, I’m heading out,” I say, rising from my chair and patting him on the shoulder. “See you Sunday.”

Logan catches my hand and squeezes. “See you then, mate. Thanks for coming.”

I lean down and wrap my arm around his neck, the most I can manage of a hug with me standing and him sitting with Emily in his lap. “I’m calling in reinforcements, buddy. You’re not even safe going to a fucking party.”

“Screw you,” he says lightly.

“I mean it. Mac’s out. I’m inviting him to stay on your damn couch until I’m confident you can go out in public without risking another brain injury.”

“Wanker,” he says.

I release him, slap him on the shoulder, and get the hell out of Dodge before any noises from upstairs turn my semi into a full stiffy.

Ty isn’t the only person waiting for me when I get back to my place. Manny’s sitting on my couch with the kid, playing a two-person shooter game.

I’ve known Manny for more than a decade. I’ve been in firefights with him. I was the best man at his wedding. I was there for the unplanned home birth of his second kid. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look as haggard as he does this morning. His thick black hair, usually combed back into a quiff any fifties greaser would be proud of, is ragged and rumpled. He’s got bags under his eyes worse than the month right after the birth of each of his kids. He hasn’t shaved and there’s a hint of gray in the whiskers on his chin. He’s still wearing work clothes: white dress shirt, black suit, black checked tie. He’s draped the suit jacket over the back of the couch and rolled up his shirt sleeves in deference to the August heat, although my apartment is air conditioned to an ice cube. His clothes are creased and there’s dark spots on his shirt that look like dried blood.

“Hey,” I greet them both. Manny has a spare key not just to the building but to my apartment and I’m assuming he let the kid in. I give Ty as much of a hug as he’ll allow, which is to say an arm around his shoulders before he bats me off with a grin.

“You going to be here for a while?” I ask Manny.

“You mind? Stuff went south last night with Rick. I went to the hospital with him and didn’t go home. Jen’s mother came over to help with the kids and now she’s staying the weekend and I’m in the, uh, craphouse. Any chance I could crash here?”

“Any time, man. You don’t need to ask. Let me get you some clean clothes and you can take the bed in the loft. Ty and me are going to play ball.”

Manny stretches backwards, cracking his neck and back. Fuck, he sounds like an old man. “I’ll come to the court with you. Game of ball’s just what I need to really tire me out. Otherwise, I’m gonna toss and turn. I hate it when Jen’s mad at me.”

I almost call him a pussy, but that’s sexist and I want to set a good example for the kid.

“Cook her a nice dinner tonight and she’ll forgive you.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he says. “I haven’t made her my world-famous Meatballs Diablo recently. That always gets her eating out of my hand.”

I chuckle at the idea since Manny is completely whipped for his wife.

“Speaking of which,” I say to Ty. “We’ve got a guest for dinner, so I’m cooking. Don’t suppose you want to invite your girl over and we could make it a double-date, then you guys could watch a movie while the oldies talk?”

Ty’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Call her and see if her parents will let her come over for dinner. We’re eating at seven-thirty. We’ll have her home by ten.”

“Okay!” Ty scrambles over the back of the futon and over to where he’s thrown his backpack, presumably to get his phone. I leave him to do teenage stuff and head upstairs to get Manny clean clothes.

Manny follows me upstairs and strips out of his clothes in my bedroom, out of Ty’s sight. I vented at him when Ty returned the key I gave him. Manny explained why a parent might be concerned and the things I needed to do to make sure Ty’s mother never leveled an accusation of pedophilia at me. It made me angry, but I understood the need for caution. Now I’m careful not to dress or undress in front of Ty and I make sure no one else who visits while he's here does, either.

Given that I’m also their landlord and I’ve given Cerise a lot of slack with the rent to make sure Ty doesn’t end up on the streets, you’d think she’d just be grateful and shut the fuck up, but Cerise never shuts up, and I’ve seen people act against their own best interests before.

“Want me to run this through the wash to try to get the blood off?” I ask when he hands me his shirt.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Jen hates it when I work Rick’s parties anyway and the blood’ll just set her off. Although I don’t think we’ll be working any more of Rick’s parties after last night. It went bad,hermano.”

“I got the Cliffs Notes version last night. Anything I should know?”

Manny scratches the back of his thick neck. He’s a buff fucker. He’s a little shorter than both me and Logan, but he’s nearly as wide as the two of us put together.

“Whatever the fuck the crazy lady put in the punch made people go nuts. They were, uh, doing the deed in every corner. I saw some shit I can’t ever unsee, man. And Rick went purelyloco. I could not pull him off Logan. I thought that cop friend of Logan’s was going to have to drag him out in cuffs. When I finally got him in the limo, he vomited fucking everywhere before I got him to the hospital. Shithead kicked me out as soon as the doctors got him in a bed. I drove the limo over to Mellow’s and spent three hours waiting while he detailed the damn thing. I’ve got a job tomorrow and it cannot smell like Rick’s puke. Two to one he won’t pay the bill, either.”