Page 114 of Tito

“To save you the aggravation of dealing with those awful people.” He winced as if disgusted. “Most of them are hoping to get a discount or gift card because of a loose thread or an uneven seam. I mean, really, this is the Buckle, not Prada.”

I chuckled. “You do that for me?”

He looked at me like I was crazy for asking. “Of course. I might not be able to keep a secret, but do I love you, Reggie.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I got mad at you about telling him.”

“I knew it would pass,” he said. “You really couldn’t have expected me to keep a secret.”

“I knew eventually you’d tell him,” I admitted. “I thought maybe it’d be in a few weeks, though.”

“I would have lasted a month if he hadn’t been so persistent.” He rolled his eyes. “He was going on and on about this dream he had where he was being accosted by pouty-lipped angels with lean legs and perfect boobs. He said when he woke up, his balls were twice their normal size. I had to tell him.”

I gave him a look of disbelief. “Lean-legged angels?”

He nodded. “With pouty lips.”

“And perfect tits,” Mel added.

“I don’t remember him telling me about any dreams he had that night.” I said.

“I’m sure there are a lot of things Taddeo tells me that he doesn’t tell you,” Raymond bragged. “Did you know he calls me his brother?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well,” he said, cocking his hip. “He does. All the time. Come here, Brother. I need to tell you something, Brother. Hey, Brother, where’s Reggie?” He crossed his fingers and held them between us. “We’re like this.”

I liked it that Tito accepted Raymond with open arms. It was a testament to the size of his heart, and proof that he recognized people for being who they really were, not what the close-minded portion of the world saw them as.

“I’m glad you two are close,” I said. “But I do need to ask him about the pouty-lipped angel dream. I want to hear that story.”

“Please don’t,” Raymond begged.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” he said. “It’s our little secret.”

I scowled. “Another one you didn’t keep.”

He turned away. After wandering halfway through the store with his head hanging low, he looked up. “I made it up,” he admitted from fifty feet away. “I can’t keep secrets and I’m a pathological liar.”

I laughed. “Come back.”

Looking like a puppy who’d been spanked for peeing on the carpet, he meandered to where we stood. He lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s a time and place for a lie,” Mel said. “And that wasn’t it.”

I looked at her like she was nuts. “When is it okay?”

“When the truth will harm someone you love,” she said.

“Oh.” Raymond’s eyes went wide. “I like that. In the future, I’ll only lie to protect those I love.”

“A lie is a lie,” I said. “They’re never okay.”

“Believe me,” Mel said. “At some point, someone’s lied to you to protect you from being hurt.”

“Maybe so,” I agreed. “But I can guarantee you this: it wasn’t someone that really mattered to me, because those people don’t lie.”

“I bet at some point your father has,” she said. “To protect you.”

“I can assure you that has never happened,” I said adamantly, “And, it never will.”