summer's end.

“Really? Even if it’s just once or twice in the next half a year. I’m sure the chickens don’t miss us that much, but it’d be nice.” 

“Yeah, but that’s all typical, year-round stuff. I’m talking like a holiday bash, or a Halloween party! A summer festival would be nice. The fireworks always look so great from here, no matter where you are.” The lack of city obstruction helps that fact. “I do like the harvest stuff, though. All the fresh fruits and veggies? And talk about candles. I always come home with six minimum.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Just tell me when you wanna go, and we’ll make an afternoon out of it.”

“Better count fast. It’s all coming up.” 

"Always gotta remind me! A few years ago, I could barely stand this for one round, much less six. Going on seven? I don’t even remember what time we left your place.” Dante sighs, a little melodrama coloring his voice. “Oh, yeah. Me. My lawyer will absolutely be in touch.” 

“I was trying to stop you from being a mockery! At least you stand a chance, these days. Sometimes. Well, on a good day.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s fun, but I don’t think it’d be as fun without you, talking to all the goats while they try to jump off your legs.” 

“I kind of liked the parade idea, though. Sloths or no sloths. When was the last time our town council got together and put up something fun for us, anyway?” 

“If that’s something you really want, I could make some time for it on the weekends.” He’s always had a hard time saying no to his daughter, but a return to Magnolia Homestead to help out for a couple hours on the weekends would be far from a waste of time.

“Yeah, yeah! We all know one of these days she’s going to tell me you’re the child she always wanted.” He says, wholeheartedly teasing. It’s a running joke between him, Dev, and his mom. 

“Uuugh. Pool’s not for me, D. Precision stuff just takes too much skill I don’t have going on.” Discipline and effort’s one thing. Pool strategy is another. “Beer pong, though? I could smoke you.”

“I’m counting the seconds.” His parents are the same way about loving Dante, and have long thought of him as another one of their kids. He’s always felt lucky on both sides.

“Our silverware secret.” 

“You had other things to do. School, work, we got caught up. But there’s always volunteer hours now. Some of the other vet techs say they did like, a couple dozen hours there before they got this job.” Livvie oh’s at the obvious culprit. “Do you remember when they were plotting to have a sloth parade? And trying to get the mayor to sign off on it?” 

“Yeah? Are you thinking about following their lead? Could be fun.” He enjoyed his time working there, and the Wilson family was always very generous.

“My ma’s got at least a hundred dreams lined up, already. Let’s just be thankful she hasn’t landed the chief, too.” He doesn’t resent his mother for going after what she wants, but he’s glad that there’s a cut-off. 

“You really could’ve. And I’m hanging by a moment, living on a prayer, that you don’t remedy that real quick.” It’s always disasters in seconds or less, with the two of them. But he’s smiling. “Well, you’re still winning this round, at least.”

“I think she’ll get there, though. She’s persistent. A real inspiration.” Dev remembers growing up and thinking she was the coolest mother on the face of the earth.

“The dinnerware bandit sounds too good! That’s like, the next McDonald’s character. Almost for sure. Someone’s gonna send us a letter in the mail about copyright ‘cause of you.” 

“Oh, my god. I wish I remembered more of the chickens than polaroids had to offer. I just remember waking up and all the roosters were singing their lungs out.” She sighs, finding the memories still warm. “Uh oh. The usual troublemakers?” 

“We’re just gonna have to keep that between us, then,” he says with a playful grin.

“Will ever see.” 

“Yup. He’s gonna be in a muscle tank, armpit hair showing, the whole nine yards.” Dante literally bites his tongue, feigning repulsion. He throws his next shot and the balls fly everywhere, none of which going in a particularly helpful direction. “Yeah. See? This is why it has to be Old Sal for you. You’re both sick in the head.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it! You’re better off sticking with Big Chief. At least he’s the man of mama Delilah’s dreams.”

“You’d be disappointed, he’d be in hysterics, and then it’d be the only thing anybody talked about for the rest of the year.” 

“Oh, it was good. We helped a little chocolate lab with a sprained ankle. She was real patient with us, and didn’t wanna go home after. What about you?” 

“You’re right. I’d rather save myself the trouble than have to tell that story a thousand times. There’s better things to talk about than the dinnerware bandit.”

“There’s no way people cleared that whole meadow in twenty seconds. We were insane.” 

“You bet I would! That’s the whole point! He don’t need patience to run. And I’d have him running.” But he laughs, sidestepping the pool table and lining up a shot of his own. “You’re so unwell. Literally unwell. He’d poison you if he felt like it.” 

“The best duo Marigold has ever seen.”

“Okay. I can’t spend the rest of my life missing Garfield, so we might as well.“

“It does make me wonder what his kitchen looks like, though. Do you think he could make an episode of Hoarders? Sick Individual With Mismatched Silverware Continues To Torment Town of A Few Thousand?” It seems realistic enough to earn another laugh. “Ew. It’s like spiderwebs. All the crawling right in there?” 

Joel laughs before popping some more pretzel in his mouth. “I wish I could get a warrant to search his house, but who knows what I’d find in there.”

“We’re definitely up in the elite. Remember when we used to have our names up on the Good Noodle board?” They were always the first two to participate for the activity together. 

“Awww, Al wouldn’t be too bad. That guy just doesn’t like anybody to be lonely.” He laughs, glancing at the dartboard while Dev lines up another go at the board. “I’d do the fishing trick. I’d have him doing cardio, though, so we’d both just wait each other out. Also, Old Sal is so classic. It’d be like miracle after miracle.” 

“We were unbeatable. I’d bet good money our record still stands.”

“…Bedtime comics, pops?” The genuine amusement in her voice is quickly beaten out by her tendency to appreciate routines. With her dad, anyway. “You’re on.” 

“No Tony inside this establishment! I’m pretty sure there’s a food truck that stops downtown with his picture on it. He’s a hot commodity on Yelp, I’m sure.” Not that any of Marigold Valley’s restaurants are busy on review websites. “Can you blame her? Her wasp’s nest hair is pretty scary as a shadow.” 

“Yeah, maybe after dinner or something. We’ll catch up on all the funnies.”

“Be shit out of luck when it comes to the three-legged race?” Because they’ve done that about a hundred times now. “Love you too, dude.” 

“Okay. Okay, you know what? We’re doing this. If you had to pick a step-daddy, who would it be? Terry’s not allowed, because he’s the obvious choice.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right. We wouldn’t be the resident Marigold Valley three-legged race champions.” And what would they do without that title?

“I could learn a thing or two from baby me! If I didn’t have to be at work so early, I still wouldn’t. We’ve probably missed out on all the Peanuts genius.” 

“Can you imagine putting those away? His poor drawers. All those wrong forks next to his random spoons. That’s probably why he started using the disposable packaged ones! Oh, my god. I’d never thought about it until now.” She wrinkles her nose. “I wonder what would happen if we held a cookout. Would she call the cops on a cop? Tune in.”

“Maybe we should start it up again, just nights instead of mornings. How’s that sound? Hit the comics before we hit the pillow.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m overestimating you. But never say I didn’t believe.” Dante follows up as Dev tries again, giving him an approving shrug. “‘Cause I believe. Just don’t give that thing to me. I’ll poke both our eyes out.” 

“On second thought, hand it over. I’m gonna go ahead and do that. Are you trying to traumatize me in the middle of High Tide? No Step Daddy-ing in High Tide.” 

“What would I do without you?” The sentiment is real on that one. “My biggest support system.” That’s been true since Kindergarten, but he’s not about to get all sentimental right now.

She bites at her nails, pretending to consider it. “Ugh, I miss the paper comics. I feel like picking up the newspaper on our porch and ripping a few out is gonna be the answer to this Sunday’s boredom.”

“Noooo! I don’t want to be in the same books as TT. He’s been bringing kitchen knives home from Terry forever now. I hate that guy. And then I’d get the bad nod from Old Irene Valene, who calls you and everybody at your work on people for barbecuing. ” 

Joel laughs as he dips another piece of pretzel in a generous helping of cheese. “Aw, man. It’s been a while since I’ve checked those comics out. You used to love ‘em. Wouldn’t let me leave the house until we sat down and looked them over together.”