For all the excitement that Sunday night had brought us, the following week was relatively uneventful. With both Lucy and I working a standard Monday to Friday schedule, we spend about nine hours away from each other every day. She starts work a little earlier than I do, which means she also arrives home before me. And aside from my psychiatrist appointments every other week, neither of us have any evening obligations apart from grocery shopping or other assorted errands.

Unfortunately, even with our free and clear calendar, the soonest the doctor’s office could pencil us in for a viability test was over three weeks away. Lucy was cuddled next to me on the couch as I made the call to schedule the appointment, putting the receptionist on speaker so we could both hear the conversation. After the woman on the other end of the line delivered the news to us, she offered a half-hearted “We’ll let you know if there’s an opening sooner than that.” When I ended the call and turned to Lucy, she had tears welling up in her eyes again. I cradled her, reassuring that it was only a few weeks away and that we didn’t need to rush things.

Of course, we weren’t about to spend the evenings until then doing nothing. In virtually all our free time we scoured the internet for tips and suggestions on how to have a successful child together. Many links redirected only to useless quackery, selling energy crystals and herbal balms to “increase success rates.” Forum post after forum post was chock-full of baseless advice, including one particularly funny message that vindicated my joke about icing my balls by suggesting the exact same thing. Useful and verifiable information was somewhere between scarce and nonexistent.

It also didn’t help that nearly all of the information we did find regarding cross-species copulation was exclusively about varying species of dinosaurs and pterosaurs intermingling. Even in our enlightened and modern age, nearly sixty years after the abolition of human-dinosaur segregation, the idea of human-dino relations seems to be taboo in most circles. I can’t say Lucy and I have ever gotten any flack for our relationship, but we are the only married couple of our variety that I’ve come across in my twenty-one years on this planet. Dr. Gruugle was kind enough to inform us that a child is possible, but the only reliable tip beyond that has been “Get a viability test performed.”

Even though Sunday night was a passion-fueled tryst where our heat-of-the-moment emotions guided our actions, we made the mutual decision to go back to practicing safe sex until we receive the results from our scheduled appointment. I meant what I said when I told Lucy that I’d be ecstatic if she became pregnant, but I can’t shake the fear that us being clumsy about this process could be dangerous, not just to the baby but to Lucy as well. Reed’s words on the subject echo in my mind:

“... if you and Fang are sincere about having your own kids, make sure you get those tests. Take their advice. Do everything you can to ensure a healthy baby. Don’t roll the dice on it like me and Trish did.”

The thought of losing Lucy fills me with a level of dread I haven’t felt since I survived that rocket explosion in the Army. I remember very little of what happened between when the attack occurred and when I woke up several hours later with molten, festering pain coursing through my chest and arms. Shards of Private Weston’s bones had torn several chunks of flesh from my torso and forearms, though miraculously nothing got embedded to the point where it needed to be extracted via operation. I just got off with some stitches. When I came to and could speak a sentence, incoherent as it may have been, the first thing I asked was if Weston was okay. The attending medic merely sighed at me and continued monitoring my vitals. I literally had a front-row seat to his death, and I still stupidly asked if he was hurt.

Of course, my follow-up question didn’t do much to assuage fears that the concussive force of the rocket blast rattled my brain cage a little too harshly: I asked whether Lucy was hurt or not. The medic glanced from his equipment to me, a perplexed look on his face. I gained more lucidity from my post-unconscious stupor after several minutes and he asked me who Lucy was, repeating that I had inquired as to whether this mystery person was okay. I stared at him, deeply confused as to how he knew the name of my girlfriend back home whom I had spoken about with approximately nobody for the past three years. Why would I ask about the woman who was on the other side of the world, anxiously awaiting my return? And why did I get that intense feeling of sorrow in my chest? My flesh was still bloodied, bruised and aching, but… something deeper inside hurt immensely.

Well, that was in the past. Today we focus on Lucy.

The large, ornate wooden sign reading “Volcaldera Park” greets our vehicle as I turn into the road connecting the park to the rest of Volcaldera Bluffs. Nestled in a forest of redwood trees near the ocean’s coast, the park extends for several miles, divided into smaller subsections. The northernmost portion of the park is quite modern, stationed away from the towering redwoods with clear sight of both the city’s skyline and the sea. That was where I met Lucy when I returned home from my deployment during a local faire. I still remember her glowing smile as she charged me and planted a kiss on my lips. I was taken by surprise, having expected to see the same black halter top and torn jeans to which I was accustomed. She was the same beautiful woman with a whole new coat of paint.

The section of the park we currently travel towards is deeper into the forest of redwoods. Our destination gazebos for the company picnic are tucked further inland, so the ocean likely won’t be visible from the festivities. I glance over at Lucy. She is leaning over and peering upwards out of the closed window in an attempt to spot the tops of the gargantuan trees. I slide my right arm across the center console and take her hand in my own. She turns my way and smiles, interlocking her fingers with mine.

I return the smile, keeping my eyes on the winding park road ahead of us. “Are you looking forward to meeting some of my coworkers today?”

“If they’re all as charming as this Kevin person you’ve warned me about, maybe not.”

I let out a sigh. I’ve given Lucy the briefing about Kevin, which mostly amounted to “Avoid at all costs.” He’s the one wrinkle that might transform the day from an enjoyable social activity into an awful nightmare. However, I still hold out hope that the close proximity of our other coworkers and their families, including Kevin’s CEO father, will keep him and his hateful attitude in check.

I click my tongue. “No, Kevin is the worst of it. Bill’s a bit awkward but he should be delighted to meet you.”

Lucy giggles. “Oh, he’s the one with ‘dino fever’, right? Aren’t you worried he might steal me away from you?”

“You go ahead and meet him, then let me know if you want to be stolen away by him. Besides, he’s somehow still ‘dating’ that girl he met last week.” In an unusual twist, Bill had actually managed to keep this e-girlfriend for longer than a single weekend. In fact, by all accounts, it seemed that things were going pretty well between them. As insufferable as I find him to be most days, I’m happy his relationship is going better than those before it. Though, he has been abnormally quiet about her when he goes into his daily rambling sessions. In the past, he’d have told me every tiny detail about the person he was courting on the other side of his chat application. This time he was playing things a bit closer to his chest. Maybe it was just a new strategy he was employing so as to not spill his spaghetti and blow it with another girl.

We pull up to one of the vacant parking spaces near the reserved gazebos, B and C. Though they’re called ‘gazebos’, they’re much larger and spacious than I expected. I glance at the clock on my dashboard: 10:57 AM. Even being a few minutes early, a fair number of people have already arrived and are hard at work preparing the picnic. A group of women from the office bustle about inside one of the gazebos setting up condiments and snacks for the upcoming lunch, while several men stand around the grill, beers in hand, hard at work with cooking up the various meats and vegetables that will be offered. A banner adorns each of the structures with the printed words: “Frontier Data Management Company Picnic”.

As we exit the car, I give a wave towards the gentlemen at the grill. They return the gesture and smile; I don’t know everybody’s names yet as I’ve been with the company for less than a month and it employs nearly a hundred people, plus at least some number of attendees will be spouses and children of employees. This should be a great opportunity not just for Lucy to stretch her socialization muscles but for me to pick up a few more names as well.

As Lucy and I both circle to the front of the car, a small breeze rustles past us, gently caressing the grass in the clearing and giving voice to the trees above. We both dressed appropriately for the weather; while it’s not supposed to be frigid, it certainly calls for a light extra layer to avoid being uncomfortable. That being said, I notice Lucy shudder slightly from under her brown wool sweater. She takes in the number of people and the general atmosphere of the burgeoning event and turns my way with a weak smile on her face. “Are you sure about this? What if I embarrass you in front of your coworkers?”

I step over to her and wrap an arm around her, gently rubbing the flat of her back in between her wings to comfort her. “You sound like I did at church. I think I did a pretty okay job of not embarrassing you too badly back then, and I don’t have your built-in advantage of being a beautiful and wonderful person.”

She looks up at me, her cheeks reddening slightly as her smile strengthens. “Well, you are wonderful, but I’d go with ‘handsome’ instead of ‘beautiful’.” 

I give her a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll do great today. I’ll be right here with you.” I slide my hand across her back in one more reassuring rub and bring it to her side, joining my hand with hers. She gently tightens her grip and takes a deep breath. Together, we make our way up the small hill towards the festivities.

“Heya, Anon! How’s it going, buddy?!” A familiar, jovial voice calls to me from the parking lot. It seems Bill arrived just a few moments after we did; he trots over to us from his own parked vehicle. The short, slightly expedited travel is enough to wind him slightly, and he catches his breath as I reach out to shake his hand. He looks over to Lucy and gives her a big grin. “And who else could this be but Lucy? Of course, I know you from the photo on Anon’s desk, but I’d be able to tell it was you even without the image based on all the good things Anon says about you!” 

Bill extends his hand to Lucy who returns the handshake. She smiles and glances from Bill to me. “Oh? What kind of good things has he been saying?”

I shake my head. “I’d like to know, too, seeing as I don’t talk about you at work.”

Lucy balks at this statement with a playful grin. “What do you mean, you don’t talk about me?!”

I shrug. “Personal life is personal for a reason.”

At this, Bill interjects. “Well, Anon is certainly not as giftedly verbose as I am, but he very clearly shares his feelings about you through his non-verbal communications. I notice him gazing longingly at that photograph from time to time.” He taps the tip of his nose in my direction. “You can’t hide your feelings for her from me!”

I sigh. “I’d hope I have feelings for her, she’s my wife, after all.” Lucy giggles at this as she joins our hands together once more. I glance over Bill’s shoulders in the direction of his beat-up transportation. “You got a ‘plus one’ today, Bill?”

Bill gives a smile and a shrug. “Nah, unfortunately Cutie couldn’t make it. Apparently there’s an anime convention going on over in San Dinogo. She put an awful lot of effort into her cosplay so I wasn’t about to try to talk her out of going to that in lieu of a silly company picnic. I woulda gone with her to the convention, but tickets were already sold out by the time she told me about it. Maybe next time!”

“What’s your girlfriend like?” Lucy asks, “Did you say her name was… ‘Cutie’?”

“Er… yeah, at least, that’s what I call her. Umm- oh, hey! Food’s about ready! I’ll catch up more with you both in a bit! I’m starving.” Bill gives an abrupt little wave and makes his way towards the structure containing the prepared food. 

Lucy smiles and waves in return, but as Bill turns his back to us she looks up at me with concern. “... Did I say something wrong?”

I rub the top of her hand gently with my thumb. “No, not at all. I don’t know what his deal has been recently. He’s talking about Cutie a lot less than he has with his last girlfriends. I think he’s worried he’ll jinx it if he goes on too much… an adjustment in strategy based on his previous failures. At least, that’s my theory. Don’t worry about it; he’s a bit of an odd duck.”

Lucy seems to ponder this for a moment but is quickly distracted as she tilts her head up and sniffs at the air. The wafting smell of the cooked meat has worked its way in our direction and my keen-nosed pterodactyl wife has picked up on the scent. “Mmm… I wasn’t too hungry a moment ago, but now that I smell those burgers…”

She’s right. Whoever is on grill duty has done a superb job of cooking that beef because it smells spectacular. “I absolutely agree. Let’s…” I trail off. Lucy looks up at me as I begin scanning the crowd. I scrutinize the people within both gazebos, the second of which currently houses several nicely-sized bags stacked on its center-most table; most likely door prizes for later. I crane around to check the outskirts of the area where several children and a few adults have already begun playing a game of horseshoes, and turn to survey the parking lot as well.

Lucy finally speaks up. “Everything okay?”

“... I’m looking for Kevin.”

“... And?”

I raise my eyebrows as I turn back to her. “I… don’t see him. Maybe he’s late.”

Lucy smiles. “Well, based on what you’ve told me so far, I don’t imagine he’ll be too hard to spot, considering he’s a 12 foot tall pterodactyl who breathes fire from his nostrils and swings around a giant broadsword.”

“Har har. I just want to make sure we steer clear, if possible.” After the cupcake incident last Friday, Bill and I didn’t see Kevin again. He didn’t trail us to the parking lot, nor did he come by our cubicles to harass us any further over the course of this week. I didn’t hear any gossip that he was canned, so maybe he was on PTO, or even spending time prepping for this picnic. Honestly, the venue that I’m looking at right now seems far too nice for him to have been involved. He’s a “bare minimum” kind of guy, from my experience. Either way, I wasn’t about to curse the heavens for a week without that nuisance.

Noting that the coast is clear, I continue up the hill with Lucy to the awaiting banquet of burgers, buns and other picnic fare. As we fix ourselves some plates, I introduce Lucy to several of the people managing the food distribution. They are mostly supervisors from other departments, a few of whom I know the names of but others I have to reintroduce myself to as we shake hands and exchange pleasantries. Each of them are warm and welcoming to both myself and Lucy; really, the office seems to hold a pretty swell group of people with the one notable exception of fucking Kevin.

As I pluck a couple cans of soda from the cooler at the end of the line and Lucy scoops up a handful of napkins and utensils, we make our way over to the other gazebo containing a dozen open picnic tables. Seeing as we’re still relatively early, not many people are seated as of yet. I notice Bill has mingled at a table with several other employees, his motorized mouth in full swing as he rants about the most recent silver screen masterpieces he’s seen. I’d join them if there were open seats, but the other occupants of the table are thoroughly entrapped by their own politeness as their eyes glaze over in response to Bill’s barrage of cinematic critique.

Lucy and I take a seat at a vacant table, seeing that nobody else is yet stationed at any of them. We probably won’t be eating alone for long; more and more people are showing up by the minute. No sooner than I swing my leg over the bench and reach for a potato chip, a menacing shadow looms directly behind me.

“Seat here taken, Mous?”

My momentary fear is quickly quelled as I recognize the voice. “It is not, Rick. Please, join us.”

The hulking form of my supervisor steps up to the plank beside me and tucks his monolithic legs into the space between the bench and the bottom of the table. When he takes a seat, the entire picnic table sinks slightly in his direction. Lucy and I are startled by being suddenly lifted upward, and I quickly scoot over to allow Rick to shimmy closer to a center of gravity position on the seat. This allows the wood and metal to settle back into its comfortable, if somewhat strained, resting position.

Rick reaches out a colossal hand in Lucy’s direction. “You must be Mrs. Mous. Pleased to meet you, I’m Rick.”

Lucy accepts the handshake, her otherwise normal-sized hands seeming diminutive in his grasp. “Lucy. Pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Rick.”

Rick releases Lucy’s hand and begins attending to the stack of food in front of him. I’ve never seen the man eat before, but I’m not at all surprised that he has six burgers and a mountain of potato chips on his plate. You don’t keep a physique like that by skimping on meals. “So, what do you do for a living, Lucy?”

Lucy dabs at the edge of her mouth with a napkin, wiping away the trace of ketchup her burger had left behind, and politely swallows her food before responding. “I’m a preschool teacher at the church near our home.”

Rick continues. “Oh? Is it a full school attached to the church, then?”

“Partially. We offer preschool through fifth grade at the connected building. There’s a companion private school a few blocks down the road that takes care of the kids from middle school through graduation.”

“And how do you like working with those little scamps?”

Lucy gets a slightly dreamy look in her eyes. I know it’s only partially due to enjoying what she does; the rest is chalked up to our desire to have our own child soon. “I wouldn’t trade it for any other job in the world. I adore my kids.”

Rick sends a brief sideways look to me, then turns back to Lucy. “How about the two of you? I know you haven’t been married terribly long, but are you working on children of your own?”

At this, Lucy’s cheeks begin glowing and she glances down, a smile working across her face. I respond on her behalf. “Early stages, but yes.”

Rick looks down at me with his beady eyes and ever so slightly flicks his cro magnon brow upward as a small smile tugs at the side of his mouth. He didn’t say it out loud, but it’s clear he approves of my wife. He speaks up again. “Well, if Anon’s work ethic is anything to go off of, I think he’ll be a spectacular father. And you seem like you’ll be a splendid mother as well, Lucy. I wish you both the best of luck on that journey.”

I pause for a moment, checking the filing cabinets of my memory to see if Rick had ever mentioned being married or having kids of his own. I scan the imprint of his office in my mind, trying to recall if there was a photograph of a woman or any little caveboys or cavegirls. When my search comes up “inconclusive”, I decide to simply ask outright. “What about you, Rick? I don’t know that I’ve ever asked if you were married or have any kids of your own.”

Rick shifts in his seat, chewing and swallowing the entire burger he just plopped into his gullet. I shudder to think of what size a woman would need to be to withstand his titanic girth. “No, and no. You didn’t know that because you’re a professional and you keep workplace chatter to a minimum. I like that about you. I also don’t tend to share much about myself; when I do, I wind up with smart-asses like you saluting me and calling me ‘Major’ in the office.”

I grin innocently at him. “I thought I was being respectful, sir.”

Rick shifts his gaze downward, peering at me menacingly past the ridge of his browline. At this display, Lucy giggles which catches Rick’s attention. He turns back to her and gives her a smile. “I see you’re used to his bullshit. Makes sense, seeing as you’re married to the idiot.”

Lucy giggles more. “You have no idea, Rick. I could tell you some stories…”

I balk. “I’m right here!”

Rick waves me off and turns his full attention to Lucy, planting his hands on the bottom of his chin as she recounts the tale of how I chastised her for ordering pizza one night and then insisted she choose whether she loves me or pizza more. I seem to remember the event differently than her, but I allow her to embellish because it gets some chuckles out of Rick. As she destroys my good name to my supervisor in service to her beloved pizza, I take another peek over my shoulders to see if I can spot a certain asshole pterodactyl. I do notice a pair of leathery wings approaching up the hill, but they do not belong to Kevin; rather, his father slowly makes his way towards the picnic. He leans heavily on the cane as he steps up the grassy knoll, waving to and shaking the hands of the growing crowd of attendees as he does so. He wasn’t lying about disliking suits; if anyone would be dressed up for this event it’d probably be the CEO, but he’s adorned in a gaudy tropical-print shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. Brave decision for it being on the chillier side today.

He looks in our direction as he continues on his journey towards the food and gives a wave which I return. I shift back to my conversation partners just as Lucy concludes her explanation as to how, both logically and factually, I must be comprised of at least some percentage of pizza for her feelings towards me to be sustainable. Rick chuckles heartily at this, the most I’ve ever seen him laugh in the short amount of time I’ve known him. Lucy glances at me and gives me a smile and a wink. I knew she was going to do a fantastic job socializing. It was just a matter of getting her out of her shell and-

Lucy’s expression suddenly shifts. She looks above and beyond my head, her eyes widening in shock. Another shadow looms directly over me as a second hulking form has approached from my blind spot. Before I can spin around, a distantly familiar voice speaks.

“Mind if I join you, brother? Anon. Lucy.”

I whip around and look up… far, far up at the herculean figure standing before me. A mop of messy black hair rolls over his shoulders as a pair of eyes glances from Lucy to me from behind reflective spectacles.

Rick looks over his shoulder. “Sure thing, Jon.”

Lucy and I speak in unison. “Principal Spears?!”

The form I now recognize as the principal of the high school both Lucy and I graduated from steps around the table and takes a seat next to Lucy, diagonal of Rick as to counterbalance his weight on the benches. He smiles warmly at both of us before turning his attention back up to Rick. “Thanks for the invite. These burgers look great.” Principal Spears has a near identical heap of hamburgers and sides on his plate to match his similarly-sized… brother?

I snap back over to Rick. “Principal Spears is your brother?!”

Rick shrugs. “I usually call him ‘Jon’. Or ‘Runt’.”

Principal Spears scowls at this. “I’m your little brother but I can still break you across my knee.”

Rick chortles. “You’ve tried in the past, and you’ve failed. When you can best me in single combat you can escape the nickname, Runt.” He puts extra emphasis on the last word, earning another glower from his slightly smaller brother.

My mind is still reeling. How many goddamn coincidences are going to pile up before this fragile reality implodes upon itself? How the hell are these two even related…?

… Rick Spears. My boss’s last name is Spears. Am I actually retarded? I assumed ‘Spears’ was a common last name, like Smith or Jones, but… I never would have made the connection. Of course, I probably should have made the connection; seeing the two of them in such close proximity, you can absolutely tell they’re related. I even caught traces of Principal Spears’ tone and inflection in some of the things Rick said. I feel like a total moron. I can’t imagine how-

… Lucy.

I quickly turn to her. She is still staring up at Principal Spears’ face, petrified as though she just gazed into Medusa’s eyes. Principal Spears shovels a burger into his mouth in a single motion, chewing and swallowing the entire patty and bun as though it were a slider. He pauses and turns to look down at Lucy who remains stock still. “You’re looking well, Lucy. Glad to see things worked out with you and Anon after all the excitement of senior year.”

Excitement was certainly one way to put it. I look back to Lucy, preparing myself to dart around the table and escort her away if a panic attack overtakes her. She seems to have been freed from the spell and blinks a few times, finally opening her mouth to speak. “... I never imagined I’d bump into you again, Principal Spears.”

He smiles down at her. “What, not even at one of the class reunions? And you can call me ‘Jon’, you’re a bit far-gone from high school for such formality.”

She blinks a few more times and shakes her head slightly. “I… yeah. Jon. It’s nice to see you again.” Though she has a bit of a far off look in her eyes like someone just revealed one of the secrets of the universe to her, Lucy is actually keeping a relatively cool head for having so suddenly been introduced to a player from our high school drama. Sure, he didn’t have any sort of animosity with Lucy in particular, but Principal Spears… or rather, Jon, was still involved in that prom night that brought everything crashing down.

Jon turns my way. “So how have the two of you been holding up these past few years? Did you tie the knot right after high school or a little later?”

I respond, “A little later. I actually enlisted in the Army for a three year contract. Lucy did some college, then got a job at a preschool in her… in our church.”

At this, Lucy looks up at me and a smile begins tugging at the sides of her face. I’m not about to sign their big book of official congregation members quite yet, but I figure a little encouragement could do Lucy some good right about now.

Jon nods approvingly as another burger and a handful of chips disappear into his mouth. “I’m glad to hear you two are doing well. Things at Volcano High are mostly the same. The freshmen from your year are seniors now. They keep saying words like ‘drip’ and ‘dupes’... I can’t keep up with their ‘dank memes’. You will be pleased to know, however, that the hole in the rooftop fence the two of you caused was repaired.”

Both Lucy and I balk. Lucy speaks up first. “Our fault? I believe you’re the one that blasted that door off its hinges and wrecked the fence!”

Jon exhales from his nostrils. “And why was the door locked, with two students in a place they shouldn’t be? You two are lucky I didn’t make your parents pay for the damages.” An intense moment passes as he gives both of us an accusatory glare before a smile breaks onto his face and he begins chuckling. 

Rick chimes in. “Jon, you shouldn’t tease the graduates. You want them to have fond memories of you, or have them remember you as the dickhead you are?”

Jon defends himself. “If my students have fond memories of me, I haven’t done a very effective job of being a principal.” With this, Jon peers over his glasses in my direction. “Your taste in anime still shit, Anon?”

I shake my head in disbelief. Lucy, on the other hand, begins giggling. She decides to answer him. “Anon’s tried to get me to watch a few of those anime on our streaming services.” She turns to me. “I love you, sweetie, but some of those shows are terrible.”

I put my head in my hands in over-exaggerated dismay. “Betrayal. Betrayal of the highest order.” 

As my eating companions continue laughing at my misery, Rick rubs his hands together in satisfaction, his once full plate now empty. He stands from his seat, causing the picnic table to once again go off balance, this time leaning in Jon’s direction. Rick picks up his plate and empty beer can and glances around at us. “It was nice meeting you, Lucy. Jon, looks like your wife is just about done getting her plate so I’ll make some room for her. We’ll need to ask about a venue with sturdier tables next year.”

As Rick heads over to the trash bin, I turn to Jon. “Wife? I didn’t know you were married.”

Jon smiles. “Going on twelve years now. Oh, uh… before she gets here…” He glances at Lucy, giving her a serious look. “... don’t make too big of a fuss about her name.”

Lucy cocks her head. “What do you mean?” I, too, am perplexed by the request. Does she have some sort of weird foreign name that sounds offensive or something? Jon looks past us to the food line and raises a hand to indicate to his wife where he’s seated, though I don’t think anyone could miss his gargantuan outline even in a growing lunch crowd like this.

I rotate to look behind myself, expecting to see anything from a dainty, petite woman to a hulking, cro magnon warrior queen. The shape that approaches is probably the last kind I would have expected to see. A pair of enormous legs stomp in our direction as two stubby arms precariously carry two plates of food. With each step, a massive green-striped tail sways left and right. Flowing blonde hair cascades from the top of the tyrannosaurus’ head which she flicks to the side as she beams an enormous, toothy smile from her huge jaws. She speaks in a surprisingly gentle voice given her overall visage. “Hiiiiii! Nice to meet you both, my name’s Fang!”

… Oh.

Lucy is once again frozen, mouth agape. I share her stunned expression. The tyrannosaurus glances from her to me, still politely smiling. Mutually realizing we’re being rude, we both shake off the surprise and offer our own names along with handshakes after she sets the two plates on the table. As is the case with dinosaurs of her design, shaking hands involves a little extra leaning so as to not come into physical contact with her maw.

After a moment, she looks over her shoulders and cocks her brow. “Now, where did that boy run off to? I told him it was time to eat. If you’ll excuse me.” With this, the familiarly named Fang turns and marches off in search of… a boy?

The moment she’s out of earshot, Lucy spins around to Jon and jabs a finger at him. “You! YOOOU!” Jon blinks at her. “When I went into your office senior year and told you I wanted to be called ‘Fang’ and identified as non-binary, your expression! I thought you were being an asshole, but-”

Jon cuts her off by bursting out laughing. “Bwahahaha! I’m sorry, but you have no idea how hard I had to hold in my laughter when you told me that.” He quickly corrects himself so as to not come off as offensive. “Not that you wanted to go by a different name or identify differently, but the fact that you happened to pick the same name as my wife… Lord have mercy, that made things a little awkward for me.”

Lucy buries her face in her hands, blushing fiercely. “God, how embarrassing!”

Jon claps a gentle hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “Hey, you didn’t know. Plus I think that name suited you just fine when you were a teenager. I must say, I think ‘Lucy’ suits you better, and that’s not just my bias to my wife talking.”

I’ve been paying attention to the conversation, but something has been tugging at the back of my mind. Something Jon’s wife said…

“... What did Fang… your Fang mean when she said ‘that boy’?”

Jon turns and looks at me from over the top of his glasses. “That would be my son, Crispin. I believe she’s looking for him now. Probably ran off when he saw the other kids playing horseshoes.”

Lucy lowers her hands and looks up at Jon with wide eyes. I need clarification, but can’t find a polite way to put it.. “Um… when you say ‘son’, do you mean…”

Jon glances from me to Lucy, realization of our expressions and line of questioning rapidly coming into view. He gives a warm smile and a nod. “Yes, he is my son with Fang. In fact, here he comes now.” As he says this, Mrs. Spears approaches the table once more with a smaller form in tow. The boy excitedly bounces up and down, clearly still full of energy, but quickly turns his attention to the second plate that his mother had placed at the table.

Standing at about half the height of his parents, Crispin looks very much like a tyrannosaurus child. Stocky legs, stubby arms and a swaying tail all point towards a happy, healthy dinosaur. However, upon closer scrutiny one can find trace hints as to a variable that altered his genetic inheritance. His tail is a tad shorter than usual for a tyrannosaurus, and the tip of his impressive snout and jaw are a tiny bit stouter than one would normally see. He has a mop of black hair sprouting from the top of his green striped head. The hardest detail to notice is the miniscule variation to his eyes. Whereas most dinosaurs have diamond-shaped pupils, Crispin’s eyes are home to four-pointed pupils with slightly rounded sides. His yellow cushion-cut eyes scan Lucy and I with curiosity as he shovels a handful of food into his mouth.

His mother chides him. “Now, now, Chip, sit down before you start eating! And introduce yourself to your daddy’s friends!”

The boy scoots his behind onto the edge of the picnic table bench as he chews and swallows his food. He speaks in a soft voice. “I’m Crispin.”

Lucy inhales sharply and brings her hands to her mouth. I can see tears beginning to well up in her eyes as the doubts and fears of the viability of a human and dinosaur offspring are shattered by the existence of this small, smiling boy. I wordlessly slide a handful of napkins over to Lucy as Fang glances at the two of us, ignorant to the weight of the moment but smiling as she awaits our response to her child’s polite introduction.

As Lucy wipes her tears away, I take the lead. “Crispin is a fine name for a fine young man. How old are you, Crispin?”

He bounces up and down a bit in his seat, clearly still energized and ready for play. He looks my way and smiles. “Eight!”

Lucy has found her voice again. “And what grade are you in, Crispin?”

The boy giggles as though he knows this is something Lucy should know based on his age. “Second grade!”

She continues. “Second grade, wow! What’s your favorite subject? Oh, and you can’t say recess!”

He giggles again. “Recess!”

Lucy giggles in return. “Besides recess, silly!”

Crispin stops bouncing for a moment as he gazes upward, thinking about the question. He settles on an answer. “Math.”

Lucy turns to Jon and Fang with an impressed smile on her face, then back to Crispin. “Math! You must be a very smart young man! I need help with a math question. What’s five plus three?”

Crispin giggles at the easy question. “Eight!”

Lucy cheers and claps her hands together. “Perfect! Wait, what about ten minus two?”

Crispin smiles but takes an extra moment to process before answering. “... Eight!”

Lucy cheers again. “These are too easy for someone as smart as you! What about… eight minus zero?”

At this, Crispin pauses and scrunches his nose. He ponders the riddle carefully before offering a tentative answer. “... Eight?”

Lucy applauds. “Incredible! Wonderful! You’re so smart, I’ll ask you to do our taxes for us next year!” The boy is elated with the praise, giggling as he takes another bite of his burger.

Fang beams a toothy smile at Lucy. “You’re so good with kids! Do you have any of your own?”

Lucy smiles at her, then at me, and finally at little Crispin. She has a sense of newfound confidence and joy in her words. “We hope to… soon.”

With all the excitement, the food on my plate has gone mostly uneaten. I make up for lost time by scarfing down the cooled burger remnants and handful of chips. Lucy follows suit as we continue making small talk with Jon and Fang. We learn that Fang is actually a chiropractor; Jon met her when he threw out his back pile-driving a student who was out of line. He was impressed by her kind demeanor and ability to crack and adjust his back with specialized techniques designed to accommodate her limited reach. She enjoyed his fortitude in being able to withstand her chiropractic onslaught as well as his confidence and warmth. He asked her out to coffee as he paid the bill at the front counter, and the rest was history.

Somewhere in the middle of the story, Crispin finished his lunch and asked permission to go play with the other kids again. His mother agreed, keeping a steadfast eye on him as he joined a duo that were unwinding a jump rope. Lucy wistfully smiles as she watches him help spin the rope, laughing and calling for a turn when the child in the jumping position inevitably fails the challenge.

Jon speaks up, breaking Lucy from her trance. “So, I assume the two of you would like to ask for more info about how Chip came to be.”

We both turn to him with cocked eyebrows. The way he phrased it made it sound like he was about to explain the “Birds and the Bees” to us, but we were a little old for that talk. However, we understood what he meant. Lucy responded, “Yes, please. We’re waiting for a scheduled viability test ourselves, and we couldn’t find much good information online about… our particular circumstances.”

Fang blushes and smiles as she puts her short arms to the bottom of her jaw. “Oh, we had the same trouble. Of course, when we began our own attempts ten years ago, there was even less information about it on the internet.”

I glance over at Fang as she says this. “Ten years? Isn’t Crispin eight?”

Jon replies, giving me a serious look. “Yes, he is. And we did start trying for a child ten years ago. This is not an easy road you’re about to embark upon. It is immensely rewarding, but it is not easy.”

Fang shakes her head and sighs. “We were trying for an awfully long time, taking all the advice that the doctors offered us and adhering strictly to the viability test suggestions, but nothing took for a long while. I can’t tell you how many times I cried when the pregnancy tests came up negative. It was very discouraging… I thought that God himself was telling us that it wasn’t meant to be.” She glances over to Crispin who bounces up and down as the jump rope oscillates around his form, going an impressive length of time before getting his feet tangled by its increasingly rapid movements. “Praise the Lord, that wasn’t the case. When that second line on the pregnancy test finally appeared, I screamed so loudly that Jon thought I was being attacked in the bathroom. I was crumpled on that cold tile floor for twenty minutes, sobbing tears of joy as Jon cradled me in his arms. It was worth it… Crispin was worth all the hardships.”

I notice a sparkle from behind Jon’s glasses. He quickly dabs at the tear with a napkin before he reaches across the table and takes Fang’s hands in his own, smiling a wider smile to her than I’ve ever seen him give anyone else. “It wasn’t easy, but I couldn’t be happier to have this beautiful woman and our wonderful son in my life.” Lucy’s eyes begin to grow misty as well as she watches. Jon releases his wife’s hands and looks back to us. “If you want advice? First and foremost, those viability tests are very important. Do not ignore their instructions or advice. Second, be patient. ‘Good things come to those who wait’, so it was. Don’t get discouraged, don’t give up hope. I’m confident you two can be parents together, too.”

We hear his words, but Lucy and I gaze into one another’s eyes. She trembles, and I reach across the table to take her hands in my own, mirroring the gesture Jon and Fang had just performed. I reply to Jon, “Thank you. We’re going to do our best and approach this from the best angle we can. I can’t tell you what a confidence booster it’s been to simply see Crispin, to have real, tangible proof that this is possible.”

Jon and Fang both smile at us. Before they can speak up again, Thomas Gill steps up to a small podium wielding a microphone attached to a portable amp. I glance around, noticing the attendance has swelled to three times the size it was when we first arrived. I guess we were talking for a while and got swept away in the moment; I didn’t even register the humans and dinosaurs at all the surrounding tables. There’s gotta be over a hundred and fifty people here.

The CEO clears his throat and speaks into the microphone. “Good…” He glances at his watch. “Ah, seeing as it is 12:01 PM, good afternoon, everyone!” This earns chuckles from the crowd. “I’m pleased that you were all able to make it out to join us for our fifth annual fall picnic. I trust the grilled selections are of adequate quality, considering how much we’ve gone through so far! Ah, let’s give a round of applause to our volunteer chefs and preppers, shall we?”

The sound of clapping hands echoes around the open-walled enclosure. One of the supervisors who stands near the grill calls over, “Volunteers?!”

Mr. Gill chuckles at this. “Well, you have to do a little work around here, Vince!” This earns another round of laughter as Vince smiles and shakes a pair of metal grill tongs in the CEO’s direction. Mr. Gill continues, “In all seriousness, we put on this picnic every year not only to thank you all for a job well done, but also to reinforce the unity and togetherness of our organization.” He beams a smile at the gathered crowd, taking in the collection of both humans and dinosaurs who smile back at him. “My father came from a time when relations between our species were tenuous and strained. He always taught me that we are all equal and should treat one another with the love and respect they deserve, as equals. If he were still with us, I know he’d be proud of our company and our values. Thank you all for being so wonderful.”

This earns a much louder round of applause along with several cheers. Mr. Gill wipes at his cheek and raises his hand as he smiles. “All right, that’s enough sappy chatter from this old man. If you haven’t eaten yet, please do! We have plenty of food and drinks for everyone. We also have lawn games and other activities planned, including these door prizes which we’ll be awarding at one o’clock. Enjoy your time, everyone!” As he sets the microphone down, another round of applause sees him off the makeshift stage.

I turn back to my table mates. Lucy smiles at me. “So was that your CEO?”

I reply, “Yeah, that’s Thomas Gill. Very friendly guy.” I arch my eyebrows, realizing from her question that Mr. Gill didn’t introduce himself when he took to the podium.

She continues, “So he’s the one that came around your cubicle a week ago to size you up?”

This earns a look from Jon who interjects. “Ah, is Anon climbing the corporate ladder already?”

I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware. I haven’t seen him again, so if he was sizing me up maybe I gave him a bad impression.”

Lucy smiles at me. “I highly doubt that.” She glances over her shoulders. “Erm… anyone know where the ladies’ room might be?”

Fang perks up. “Oh, they’re in a small building just over the hill. I’ll go with you!”

The two of them stand from the table, once again sending half of the apparatus leaning towards the sky. Jon quickly shifts over to center his weight on his side, bringing the metal rungs back to the concrete below. As I see the two of them crest the hill, chatting with one another and smiling, a grin makes its way across my lips.

Jon interrupts my daydreaming. “I am glad to see things worked out between the two of you.”

I snap out of the daze and look up at my old principal. “Uh, thank you, Jon.”

“I mean it. It’s pretty rare for high school relationships to turn into anything long-term, but I think the two of you are perfect for one another. It’s why I didn’t toss your ass over the rooftop fence when I caught the two of you on the roof together. I saw what Lucy was doing, and I saw that you were there for her, to listen to her and comfort her. That’s what a good man does, Anon. You did right in my book, even if you two were out of line, being somewhere you shouldn’t be on school grounds.”

I smile, but feel the need to speak up for Lucy as well. “It wasn’t all my doing, Jon. She’s the one that really did the most to better herself. I was there to offer support, but I didn’t fix her problems. She did.” I think for a moment, recalling his words to me all those years ago. “I took your advice to heart. ‘You are not the only person in the world. Everyone is fighting their own battles’. She fought her own battles, and she won.”

At this, Jon gives me a beaming smile. “I’m surprised you remembered that nugget of wisdom from so long ago. That’s something my dad taught me. I’m glad it did you some good, too.” He glances down at the empty plates belonging to his family. “Ah, better not leave a mess here. Let me toss these out.” Jon gathers up the trash and makes his way to one of the lined bins.

As I go to sip the last remaining bit of soda from the can I’ve been nursing for the past hour, I see Jon’s wife trotting towards me with a worried expression. She arrives at the table out of breath, but speaks through her gasps. “Anon… you’d… come quick… Lucy…”

I snap up from my seat and whip around towards the restrooms. I can’t see the building from where I’m at but I know the direction. I bolt as fast as my legs will take me, weaving between tables and conversing coworkers. Lucy. What’s wrong with Lucy?

As I come near the top of the hill, my stomach sinks. A pair of leathery wings come into view first, their owner being all too apparent before the rest of his form emerges.

God damnit. Not now.

The back wall of the restroom is another forty yards away. Kevin leans against it with one hand planted against the brick and the other on his hip, looking down at the trapped silhouette of my wife whose wings are pulled in close to her body, attempting to shield herself from his leer. She tries to sidestep him but he shifts to block her path, continuing whatever inaudible verbal harassment he is assaulting her with. If he has laid even a single finger on her, he’s going to die.

I keep myself in his blind spot as long as I can as I charge across the glade. My military training taught me how to move swiftly and silently when need be. The first words I can hear of Kevin’s send my blood into a boil. “Come on, babe, why are you being so shy? I just wanna talk.”

I’ve made it. A few feet away from Kevin, I dart to the left and shift my momentum ninety degrees to shoulder check him backwards and away from Lucy. The gambit worked; he is caught completely by surprise, stumbling backwards and bouncing off the brick wall. He doesn’t get knocked off his feet, but he does spin around as he pushes away from the bricks to face his assailant. I stand between him and Lucy, fists raised, ready to protect the woman I swore to protect. 

Lucy clings to my side, tears welling up in her eyes. “Anon! Oh, God, I was so scared!”

I reassure her, not removing my eyes from Kevin. “It’s okay, sweetie, I’m here.” As Kevin stabilizes himself and stands upright, I glare at him with all the intensity I can muster. “Kevin, what the FUCK are you doing with my wife?!”

He raises his head, looking down at me from his heightened position, and flares his wings outwards in his usual attempt at intimidation. “Anon? Where did you… ohh, that fat t-rex must have fetched you. Mmm, ah well!” He shrugs in a pathetic display of faux innocence. “I was just complimenting your wife here! I recognized her from the photo on your desk and I was telling her what a lovely lady she is!”

I know logic won’t work, but I attempt it anyway. If nothing else, it’ll give me a good cover story when this turns to bloodshed. “And why would you think that cornering her by the women’s bathroom would be an appropriate place to ‘compliment’ her?”

He lazily scratches the side of his head. “I was on my way to the can, too. Plus it’s quieter over here. Too many people over there, too noisy. I prefer intimacy.” He puts sickening emphasis on this final word. I very briefly break eye contact with him to glance around myself. There’s nobody else here. The bathrooms are out of sight from the party. Only the muffled sounds of squealing children and laughing adults can be heard. If need be, Lucy or I could sound the alarm by screaming at the top of our lungs, but it’d likely be too late by then. It’s me versus Kevin.

Maybe we can still get out of this without violence, or at least buy enough time that someone else might show. Fang was still at the picnic, maybe she’s letting Jon or Rick know that we’re in trouble. “Kevin, look. I don’t want to fight you. But you need to step back from both of us. Lucy doesn’t want to talk to you, and neither do I.”

Kevin’s eyes flash as he glances at Lucy. She shrinks slightly behind my shoulder, still desperately clinging to the side of my jacket. “Ohh, so Lucy is your name? See, I couldn’t even get that much out of her. I don’t know what you’re so worried about, spear chucker. She seems very loyal to you.” He shrugs again and chuckles. “I don’t know why she’d be loyal to you. I could give her a life you never could.” At this, he licks his lips in a grotesque display of sensuality.

Lucy shifts slightly, moving out from behind my jacket and taking up a position beside me. She still keeps me between her and Kevin, but speaks with authority in his direction. “You are disgusting. Anon warned me about you, but I had no idea you were such a pervert. Get the fuck away from us.” Lucy, I appreciate the support, but we shouldn’t egg him on.

At this, he leans downward, glaring at the two of us. “Language! We’re just having a friendly conversation and you have to resort to curse words?” He sneers. “I was going to warn you about your husband sneaking around behind your back with other women, but now…” He gives another exaggerated shrug as he leans even closer, letting his words drip with vitriol. “Well, what do you expect? A lovely pterosaur woman has been corrupted by another spear-hurling troglodyte. Race-mixing filth, it’s all so tireso-”

A fist launches forward from my side, colliding directly with Kevin’s windpipe. His sentence is abruptly cut off as he gasps and clutches at his throat, collapsing to his knees. His eyes bulge in surprise and rage as he sputters out coughs and tries desperately to suck air back into his lungs. His wings limply retract towards his back, the focus of keeping them in their splayed state being diverted to trying to regain his breath.

Wow. That felt good. I have wanted to do that for so long, but now that the moment has passed I almost feel regret that it didn’t last longer.

… No. It’s something else. Something is different about how I imagined this playing out.

I look down at my balled fists. For some reason, I feel no pain whatsoever in my knuckles. Having been in a few scuffles during my time in the Army, I expect to at least feel that familiar dull aching, or see the reddened skin where bruises will inevitably form, but my hand is perfectly fine.

It’s not until I turn to the right that I see the fist which actually connected with Kevin’s throat. It is decidedly more mint green colored than my own. It’s also attached to the woman standing by my side who breathes heavily as she stares down at the still incapacitated monster on his knees before her.

She speaks with an intensity that I haven’t heard since she learned about me being in the crowd that laughed at her band’s performance on my first day at Volcaldera High. “Don’t you DARE speak to me or Anon in that way, you fucking asshole. You will NOT call Anon those things, and you will NOT disrespect us. Do you fucking hear me, you piece of shit?!”

Kevin has stopped coughing, now taking pained but deliberate breaths to regain his wind. As he braces a hand on one of his knees to begin standing, I instinctively take a step backwards, placing a hand on Lucy to guide her to do the same. Kevin swings his other leg upwards as he regains his stance, breathing still labored. He looks down at the earth between us, eyes wide and full of hatred.

He shrieks the words out as he lunges in Lucy’s direction. “You CUNT!”

My turn.

A sickening crunch can be heard as my fist collides with Kevin’s snout. The momentum of him putting all of his weight into his dash forward is brought to a sudden, violent stop by my jack-hammering arm. The reverberation of the impact launches backwards through my bone but I keep my feet planted firmly, acting as a bulwark between Kevin and Lucy. Kevin’s feet flip up from underneath him as he rotates in the air, landing flat on his back with a dull thud. A cloud of dirt kicks up in all directions as blood sprays from his nose and mouth. He chokes out a screech from his now deformed face, the once straight and symmetrical beak bent to the side in a grotesque forty-five degree angle. He writhes on the ground, flailing his limbs in a vain attempt to attack either of us, but we’ve already stepped back several feet to give him all the space he needs to wallow in the pain and anguish he’s earned for himself today.

I don’t take my eyes off of him, nor can I hear anything but his frenzied squawking and blood-drenched cursing. The only other sensory input I receive for the next several moments are the pair of arms that fly around my side as Lucy presses herself against me in an embrace. I don’t return the gesture yet; my blood pressure is too high to think about anything else besides immobilizing this fuckwit if he decides to get to his feet again. However, as my breathing steadies and my heart rate lowers slightly, I gingerly place my arms around her to return the hug, still not removing my eyes from Kevin’s slowing movements.

Finally, I hear Lucy’s words. “Oh, God, Anon. I’m sorry. I thought he was going to… I’m sorry.”

How could I have been so stupid? I knew Kevin would be here, but I got swept up in our conversations to the point where I stopped wondering where he was. This was my fault. I finally take my eyes off of Kevin and look down at Lucy, squeezing her closer to me. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face. “I wasn’t alone, though. Fang was with me, and she went to get help. She found you, and you rescued me.”

I did. I… rescued her.

Before I can process the thought, movement from the corner of my eye rapidly pulls my attention away. Kevin places his elbow on the ground as he begins rotating himself up in an attempt to stand. I release Lucy and bring my fists up once more, when a figure approaches from outside my view. He moves more swiftly than I’ve ever seen him move before and decisively brings his cane down upon Kevin’s head with enough force to send an echoing crack reverberating through the nearby trees. Kevin screams and grabs the top of his head as Thomas Gill’s cane comes to rest on Kevin’s chest, pressing him into the earth with his father’s full weight on the device.

He speaks with icy resolve. “Kevin, you are a disgrace to this company and a disgrace to our family name.”

I glance around; the party has made its way here. I see Fang, still panting, with her husband and brother-in-law on either side who immediately jog down the hill towards the confrontation. The rest of the onlookers simply gaze at the aftermath of the conflict, with several parents holding their confused children at their sides.

Kevin reels from the blow and spits more blood from his broken snout before speaking. The act of articulating speech is incredibly painful to him; for one whose words were always so cruel, it seems fitting. “D-dad! *cough cough* This skinnie ATTACKED me!”

Another flick of Mr. Gill’s wrist brings the cane crashing on Kevin’s skull once more, accompanied by another cry and whimper from the beaten pterodactyl. He pins it to his son’s chest again as he speaks. “I saw everything, you fool! Your ignorance and stupidity have finally taught you a lesson that I apparently never could. Why do you think I gave you a job here and assigned you tasks relating to interspecies relations, you little cretin?!”

Kevin continues sobbing and coughing up blood. Rick and Jon have arrived at either side of Mr. Gill. He speaks one final time to his son, staring down his snout at the battered man. “Kevin, you are fired. And until a time when you can put aside your petty hatred and racism, you are no longer my son. Perhaps we can discuss this again once you’ve had some time to think things over.” He lets out a long sigh and turns to the two cro magnon men who stand at his sides. “Rick. Jon. Would you be so kind as to escort this man off the premises? This is a company event, and as he does not work for our company, nor is he related to anyone who does, he does not belong here.”

The two men nod and step to either side of the laid out malformed pterodactyl. They each heave him up by one of his arms; he squawks in pain as more blood oozes from his face and down the front of his shirt. As they haul him towards the parking lot, Mr. Gill turns to Lucy and I. “Anon, I am so immensely sorry that you had to go through all of that. I am ashamed of his actions.”

I lift my hand in dismissal. “It’s not your fault, sir. Kevin’s been a powder keg in the office for a while, but there’s know way you could have known it would get this bad.”

He sighs. “I’m afraid I knew all too well the ignorance of that man. Out of familial loyalty, I gave him a job and tried to set his attitude straight by assigning him tasks pertaining to strengthening human-dinosaur relationships. I… seem to have miscalculated, and for that, again, I am sorry.”

He offers a handshake, one which I tentatively return with the same hand I used to strike Kevin. As we shake hands, he turns his wrist to glance at my knuckles. Some skin has flayed off of them and a small amount of blood trickles across the back of my hand and between my fingers. He looks up at me. “If you need to take a few days away from work, I’m certain it would be fine.”

I smile at him. “I’ve been through much worse. A band-aid or two and I’ll be right as rain. Thank you for the offer, sir.”

He returns the smile, flicking his eyebrows mischievously at me. “I thought I had told you to call me ‘Thomas’?”

“Erm… yes, Thomas, sir.”

He chuckles. “I can see why Rick likes you.” He turns his attention down to Lucy who still remains close by my side. “Oh, where are my manners, I haven’t met you yet! Thomas Gill, at your service.” He extends a hand in greeting.

Lucy smiles up at him, still trembling slightly from the encounter. “Lucy Mous. Pleased to meet you, Thomas.” She gives him a handshake, one in which he performs a similar action to mine by rotating her hand to assess the damage.

“Goodness gracious, the both of you put up quite a fight. You must be married, given how fiercely you defended one another!” At this, Lucy smiles and nods. I put an arm around her shoulders as Thomas releases her hand. He continues, “Are you sure the two of you don’t need any first aid? I believe we have a small kit in the company van…”

I look down at Lucy who shakes her head. She’s still trembling, but her hand doesn’t seem too badly injured. I address Thomas, “No, thank you. But, if it’s all the same, I think we’ll probably head out. This has proven to be a very exciting day and I think we could both use a breather.”

He uses his free hand to pat me on the shoulder. “Ah, of course, of course. I understand completely. I know it’s not the most desirable conclusion for your first company picnic with us, but all the same, I’m very grateful that you both came out.” He stops and thinks for a moment before adding, “Oh. And… well, just in case you were worried about any legal troubles, I assure you that you will be perfectly fine. As I said, I saw the whole thing. Sadly, I was too slow to make it to you any sooner…” He gestures towards his cane apologetically. “... but both of you acted completely in self-defense, and I’ll stake the reputation of my best lawyers on that fact if it comes to it.”

With this, he gives us a wink and a smile. It’s a very kind gesture, and a promise I hope he will keep if Kevin decides to pursue legal action. Truth be told, Lucy didn’t act in self defense. She struck Kevin because of his words, not his actions. An argument could be made that Kevin’s hateful tirade was a form of assault in and of itself, but it’s much harder to argue a point like that in court, especially when the only audible witnesses were the three individuals involved in the altercation.

With all that said… my wife punched a full-grown, burly pterodactyl man in the throat in defense of my name… in defense of our love.

That might be the single sexiest thing she’s ever done.

We slowly make our way back towards the parking lot. The crowd has mostly dispersed, many having realized that Kevin got the shit kicked out of him, an act that was long overdue in most people’s eyes. A few stragglers, including Fang, gather around Lucy and I as we approach, asking if we’re alright and whether we need anything. I do pause for just a moment to get Fang and Jon’s phone numbers so we can keep in touch. The coincidence of having bumped into our old principal feels like it happened several days ago at this point.

As the parking lot comes into view, the back doors of an ambulance close and it putters down the park road without lights or sirens. Seems like someone called it for Kevin; based on its slow departure, his injuries were not life-threatening, despite his weeping and mewling. 

As we arrive at our car, I open the door for Lucy. Though I am a gentleman, it’s not a move I perform too often anymore now that we are married. However, given her still shaken condition, I feel the gesture is appropriate. She smiles weakly at me as I help lower her into the passenger seat. I circle the vehicle and climb behind the steering wheel, ready to be away from this place. The day was mostly fun and productive, punctuated by a triumphant but painful finale. I’m ready for peace and quiet at home.

As I start the engine and begin working my way down the winding park roads towards the exit, I glance at Lucy. She’s looking down at her hands in deep contemplation. It was a rough day for us both. No need to try to fill the air with senseless small talk or ask her how she’s feeling, I’m sure she feels about the same way I do right now. I offer some reassurance by reaching my hand across the center console, offering it to her to hold.

She does not accept it.

I hold it in place for a second, unsure if she’s noticed. She wordlessly answers my question by gently pushing my hand away. I’m taken aback and open my mouth to ask what’s wrong when she turns to me with a sullen expression. She frowns as her eyes scan my face for reaction to what she says next:

“What did Kevin mean when he said you were sneaking around behind my back with other women?”