Page 28 of Dirty

“Oh. Wow. What’s she do?”

“You don’t know?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

“I thought you guys were old friends, or something?”

“When you were little, you lived across the street. That’s the extent of it.”

I hadn’t asked specifically, but to hear the way she talked about him, I suspected they were long lost friends.

“That’s it?” I asked excitedly.

“That’s it.”

“She’s a Nurse.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why I wasn’t worried about getting checked out the night you brought me home. I knew she could do anything they could do at the hospital, because that’s where she works. And, she could do it here, without having to file a police report. You didn’t need the cops digging around trying to figure out who shot those guys.”

“I sure didn’t. Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Are you hungry? I was getting ready to eat something.”

“Look at me.” He spread his arms wide. “I’m always hungry. Why?”

“Impressive.” I stared at him for longer than I probably should have. “Want a taco?”

He blurted out a laugh. “You think because I’m Mexican I want tacos?”

“Half-Mexican.” I stood and extended my hand. “And, no. I think you might want one because tacos are the most awesome food ever. I’m hungry, and I’m not going to eat something else just because you’re sensitive about your heritage.”

He reached for my hand and acted like I helped him to his feet, although I knew I didn’t offer much to aid his getting up.

“I’ll eat a taco,” he said.

Tacos were a staple in my diet, and I ate them almost every day. I made them out of ham, beef, pork, chicken, tofu, potatoes, and even hot dogs.

“Tacos are the shit,” I said on my way to the kitchen.

“Tacos are pretty good stuff,” he agreed.

I hadn’t eaten since I got off work, and I was starving. He followed me into the kitchen and watched eagerly as I pulled the food from the fridge. I doubted our taco desires were the same and wondered just how he liked his prepared.

After tossing some of the leftover roast in a bowl, I covered it with a paper towel and opened the microwave.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Warming up the meat. It’s gross cold.”

“You’re not going to warm it up in there, are you?”

I turned around. “I was.”

He stepped to my side and reached for the bowl. “Do you mind?”

I released the bowl. “Not at all.”