Chapter Text

A cool breeze sidles past me, swirling a small cluster of dead leaves along its furtive path. Many trees that line the road still hold tight to most of their children, but the vibrant yellows and oranges portent the fate that awaits them. In the front yard of the house I look upon stands a beautiful maple tree wearing a crown of red for at least a few weeks longer. The age of the two-story structure beyond the tree is apparent; while it is not shoddy or dilapidated, it noticeably sticks out amongst the surrounding, more modern homes.

I glance at my phone and the conversation log from Faceboop to verify the address: 1792 Pickerd. Yeah, this is the place. Sliding the device back into my pocket, I scoop the 12-pack of Agri-Cola from the back seat of my car. I only had one day’s notice to come over for lunch, so I didn’t have much time to plan anything fancier to bring with me. Also, since I had to keep this rendezvous under wraps from Lucy, I wasn’t able to cook anything. The sugary soft drinks I nabbed from the gas station on the way here will have to suffice.

I make my way up the concrete path that connects the sidewalk to the house’s closed front door. I stop and take a deep breath at the entrance. I’ve reconnected with Reed, but we’ve got another big player entering the stage. I’ve gotta do things right… for Lucy’s sake. For our sake. I reach my hand over and lightly tap the doorbell.

Within the house, I hear the bell’s resonant chime, followed by a woman’s voice and footsteps. I take a step back so as to not crowd the doorway with my presence, and the door swings inward. Before me stands a familiar purple triceratops of shorter stature. A look of calculation appears in her purple eyes, her focus shifting from one side of my face to the other, almost as though she is scanning me and running the results through her internal database to identify my alien form.

Several seconds of awkward silence pass as we stand, divided by nothing but a threshold and three years of time. To try to break through the invisible barrier, I lift my hand, give a small wave and say, “... Hey, Trish.”

“aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” 

*Slam!*

The displacement of air generated by the forcefully closed door rocks me back on my feet slightly. Of all the greetings I anticipated, this was not one of them. As I cock my head and try to process what I may have done wrong to elicit such a reaction, I hear shouting on the other side of the entryway.

“REED GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE THERE’S A GHOST AT THE DOOR SWEET RAPTOR JESUS I DON’T WANNA DIE!!”

The sound of footsteps casually making their way down the interior staircase are joined by a muffled voice. Though I can’t make out the words, they are cut off by more shouting:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘YOU WERE EXPECTING HIM,’ DID YOU PLAN TO TELL ME ABOUT THIS?! I ALMOST HAD A FUCKING HEART ATTACK!!”

After a few more muffled words of reassurance, the door opens once more, this time with Reed’s hand on the interior doorknob. He looks at me with half-lidded eyes and a casual smile. “Sup, Anon. Come on in.”

I hesitate, turning from Reed’s welcoming gaze over to that of Trish, whose expression rapidly shifts as she stares at me. Her eyes scan me up and down, still unsure of how corporeal I am. After several moments, she finally makes up her mind that I am, in fact, alive and breathing and joining them for lunch. With an irritated huff and a steely glare in Reed’s direction, Trish spins around and stomps off deeper into the house, muttering curses under her breath.

I turn to Reed who offers a small nod and gestures inward with his hand, extending the invitation to enter. As I step into the home and he closes the door behind me, I ask, “... Didn’t you say something about ‘treading carefully with our old ladies’?”

He gives me a pat on the shoulder and a wink. “Trust me, bro. All according to plan. Come on in, let me give you the grand tour.” He leads me from the entryway to the adjacent living room and plops down on the couch. Some grand tour that was. “So, Anon, how’s-”

Reed is cut off by Trish’s voice from a nearby room. “Reed, dear, can you help me in the kitchen for a moment?” Though the tone is delivered with a veneer of sincerity, I can’t help but detect some anger underlying those words. Reed rolls his eyes and smiles as he slowly gets up from the couch.

“Make yourself at home, man. Oh, and thanks for bringing that! You didn’t have to, but I’ll never turn down some cool, refreshing Agri-Cola. Lemme throw those in the fridge.” I hand Reed the 12-pack and he saunters into the kitchen. Between the sounds of the refrigerator being opened and whatever food Trish is preparing, muffled whispers are uttered. The only clue as to who is speaking is the speed and severity of their delivery; I can’t make out the words, nor do I care to pry. I hope Reed isn’t in too much shit.

As I glance around the living room, taking in the various picture frames and decorations, I feel another set of eyes on me. Slightly startled, I spin around and notice the two enormous purple orbs gazing up at me from inside a playpen. The owner of the sparkling eyes balances herself with two tiny hands positioned on the side of the enclosure, standing on tip-toes and leaning forward. The bushy red tail protruding from the little triceratops’s hindquarters gently sways left and right, assisting the infant in maintaining the tenuous stance.

I take a step closer and bend over, planting my hands on my knees to reduce the massive disparity between our heights. “Well, hi there! What’s your name?”

As the small child continues to gaze up at me, she crinkles her nose and furrows her brow. She is deep in thought, carefully considering the proper response to offer a strange creature such as myself. With a look of resolve and a nod, she finally formulates the words:

“Abuphhhfahbhbbh.”

“Wow, that is a beautiful name for a beautiful baby!”

In response to my words, a beaming smile crosses her face. She lets out a cheerful squeal and rocks backwards on her toes, but loses her grip on the wall of the playpen and lands with a soft thud on her butt. A momentary expression of shock grips her, but she quickly looks back up at me and continues giggling, her wide smile once again overtaking her.

From a doorway to the living room, I hear a familiar raspy voice: “She likes you, man.” Reed walks over to the playpen and picks up the little girl. “Patty’s a pretty happy baby most of the time, but she doesn’t usually react to total strangers like this. You got a way with kids, amigo.” As Reed holds the giggling child, she lightly slaps him on the snout several times. Through her babbling, I almost make out the words “Da-da.”

“Hah. Hopefully you’re right, Reed. I’m hoping I’ll make a good dad someday.” I feel my ears redden slightly, and a familiar stone begins forming in my stomach. Doesn’t “baby fever” only happen to women?

“Welp, no time like the present to get some practice!” Before I can protest, Reed thrusts Patty into my arms. I quickly take the baby in my hands, at first holding her at length with one hand under each of her armpits. Her limbs dangle below her, frozen in her suspended position. Even her tail hangs motionless as she stares at me with her colossal peepers.

Okay, Anon. You can do this. You were in the military. You witnessed death first-hand and survived a rocket explosion. How hard can holding a baby be?

I ease Patty closer to my chest as I take a seat in a nearby armchair, placing one hand underneath her bottom to support her weight while keeping the other on her back. As I bring her in, she squeals in delight and beams the most beautiful smile at me. She places a stubby hand on my nose, fingers testing the alien appendage. An inquisitive look crosses her face as she examines me, almost like she’s a doctor sizing up a patient. Perhaps I’m the first human with whom she’s been in such close contact; she could be looking for an elongated snout or a horn in place of the fleshy nose she is squeezing. She concludes her analysis of my appearance with a swift, soft slap of my cheek and voices her approval by blowing a raspberry at me.

Reed sits across from me on the sofa, closes his eyes and nods approvingly. “From where I’m sitting, I think you’ll be a fine dad.”

I smile as I softly bounce Patty on my lap, lulled into a sense of assured security by her giggles and babbles. As I take note of the bright red plume of feathers softly swaying to and fro, I shake my head. “Man, I still think it’s wild to see something like her tail. Is it common for a dinosaur kid to inherit something like this?”

Reed gives a shrug. “With same-species couples, no. You’ll see some minor pick-ups like eye color or height, but nothing too nutty.” My thoughts drift to Lucy, daughter of two pterodactyls. She clearly inherited the majority of her appearance from her mother, while her eyes and height were both genetic gifts from her father. Reed continues, “However, when it comes to mixed-species couples, especially when they cross herbivore and carnivore, you can see more little blessings like Patpat’s tail.”

In response to her nickname, Patty turns to Reed and blows a spit bubble in his direction. I look from the baby to Reed with a smile, noticing his face has taken on a slightly sullen demeanor. He sighs. “O’course… there’s also some chance of… problems. Me and Trish never got any viability tests done; lil’ Patty here was a bit of a surprise, to be honest. But we’re really blessed that there weren’t any complications. Still…” He turns to me with a serious expression. It’s not one that he wears often, so it’s jarring when it comes out. “... 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. I’d hate for… especially with…” He shrugs his shoulders in my direction, casting his gaze downward. I understand what he’s hinting at: a human and dinosaur conceiving is going to be much riskier than any combination of two dinosaurs.

“I get what you mean, Reed. And I appreciate the concern. When we’re ready to take that step, we’re gonna be smart about it. With that said…” I look back at Patty who has lost interest in the conversation at hand and is staring lazily over my shoulder out the window. “... I might just take your baby home instead!” I lean my face towards Patty’s and put on a goofy expression. Her eyes widen immediately and she bursts out laughing. Reed joins in with the laughter.

As I continue making dopey faces at the delighted child, Trish rounds the corner. Her attention is quickly on me and I look back up at her, face frozen in mid-stupid expression. Before she can protest the caveman in her home acting a fool toward her baby, Reed turns his half-lidded gaze her way and speaks up. “Anon here was just meeting Patpat. He’s real good with kids.”

Trish glares at Reed, and though she says nothing I get the feeling that she’s making a mental note of this moment to argue with him about it later. She finally turns my way once more and says, “... Lunch is ready. Reed, could you bring Patty and set her up in her chair?”

“Anything for you, wifey-poo,” Reed responds as he rises from his spot and reaches over to fetch Patty from my arms. As he hoists the child away from me and turns to the kitchen, her eyes remain affixed to me, a wide grin still plastered on her face.

… Maybe I am gonna be an okay dad.

I follow Reed into the dining room and take a seat at the table as Trish heads to the kitchen once more. Three places are set: two plates featuring a BLT, potato chips and sliced cantaloupe, one plate with a similar meal minus the bacon. Reed plops Patty down in the tall baby chair stationed at the end of the table. A small pile of cereal and some thinly-sliced bits of cantaloupe await on the chair’s attached white tray. She instantly goes to town on the cereal, snatching a few pieces at a time with her stubby fingers and stuffing them into her mouth. As Reed picks up a nearby cloth to wipe some of the drool running down the little triceratops’s chin, Trish returns with three cans of Agri-Cola and a sippy cup for Patty.

“Um… thanks for getting the sodas,” she says as she sets one at each adult’s place at the table.

“Oh… no problem. Thanks for lunch!” Despite my rumbling stomach, I avoided being rude and stuffing my face before my hosts had taken their seats. 

As the two of them sit, Trish’s eyes are locked on the center of the table. She speaks up again: “... And… uh… sorry for… screamin’ at you at the door.” Her eyes remain glued to their position, her cheeks beginning to glow from embarrassment. I glance over to Reed who gives me a barely noticeable nod.

“... To be fair, I have been avoiding the sun recently.” My words cause Trish to turn her gaze upward to me, a look of perplexion on her face. “They say to dress for the job you want, so I’ve been trying to get more pale. Speaking of, do you know of any nearby creepy houses or maybe cemeteries that might have an opening for a ghost?”

A hushed silence hangs in the room. Even Patty takes a break from chewing to silently peer at her mother. 

Then… a snort. Followed by a giggle, steadily ramping into a full-on belly laugh. Trish is in tatters, laughing so hard that it becomes contagious. Reed’s trademark raspy chuckle kicks in, and I can’t help but join in with the laughter. Even Patty giggles along with everyone, unaware of the context yet understanding a weight has been lifted from the room.

Trish chokes out some words between her laughter: “Oh my God… Anon. Three years… three years in the army… and you’re still a dork!” We were high schoolers again, sitting in the auditorium, laughing so hard we couldn’t keep food in our mouths because of some corny-ass joke Reed told or a story about something horrifically embarrassing Mr. Carldewskii did in math class. It feels as though no time had passed; it was a glimpse of a youth I thought I had forgotten.

As the mirth dies down and napkins are used to wipe away tears, we finally dig into the meal before us. Reed allows Trish to do most of the talking, a polite gesture on his part as he got to bend my ear with his updates at the grocery store pharmacy two days ago. She gushes to me about her life over the past three years: how she and Reed ended up together, despite never thinking of him that way in high school, the miracle that was little Patty, and her job as a part-time hairdresser. I didn’t say much, save for the odd question or two, but her last comment did give me pause.

“Part-time hairdresser? That’s-”

This time, Reed chimes in, “You’re wondering how we afforded this place on the salary of a barber and a pill-filler, huh?”

How in the… do I have a fuckin’ digital sign on my forehead that just displays my thoughts to the world?! “Erm… I, mean, I guess so? I didn’t want to be rude-”

Reed waves a hand dismissively. “No rudeness delivered, bro. Truth is, the place is already paid off. My part-time business back in high school was pretty lucrative, and I saved every last penny. Bought this house, and Trish’s wedding ring, with cold, hard cash.”

At this, Trish beams a smile and extends her left hand, displaying- HOLY shit, that is a ROCK. How in the hell does she lift her hand?! After shaking off the daze caused by the diamond’s luminosity, I ask, “Say, you mentioned before about us being business partners…?”

Reed chuckles. “Offer’s expired, amigo. Like I said, I’m legit. Got off the grid before Uncle Sam got too sniffy. Ooh, and speaking of ‘sniffy’...” He stands and takes a step toward Patty. As he lifts her from her seat, a barely audible sloshing sound can be heard, followed by a horrific wave of toxic air. That is one stinky baby!

Trish lets out a groan. “Reed, did you feed her some of that bacon earlier?”

Reed shrugs. “She wanted a piece! Who am I to deny my daughter the miracle of bacon?”

“Well, you’re changing her, then. And get a second fresh diaper ready, too. She’s gonna have an encore for you in a few minutes.”

Reed rolls his eyes and carries Patty out of the room. She giggles the whole way, clearly proud of the war crime she has committed in her diaper. I look over to Trish as she takes another bite of her sandwich and ask, “So, even though Reed’s a carnivore, Patty can’t eat meat?”

“Oh, she can. But it does that. If I try to eat meat, I’m bedridden for days. For her, maybe a tummy ache and a stinky poop. When she gets older, she’ll have to decide for herself if meat’s worth the trouble.”

I nod and take a sip of my soda. The room falls silent for several seconds. Trish breaks the silence.

“You know, as startled as I was to see you out of the blue like this today… I’m glad you came over. I… I miss this. Our old friend group. I miss… I miss Fang. I… hope she’s doing well.”

I guess it’s time. The topic was going to come up eventually. “... Lucy and I are married now. Proposed when I got back from my deployment, wedding was a couple weeks ago.”

Trish doesn’t react. Her eyes are once again locked onto the middle of the table, but I see them shifting slightly as she processes the information. “... I figured. Here I was, blabbing on and on about myself, and you didn’t say a peep about how things were going for you. I… guess I knew.”

“Trish-”

Before I can get out a second word, Trish holds up her hand. She lowers her head farther as she tightly closes her eyes. She’s preparing her thoughts. I want so desperately to butt in and say that I forgive her, that I’m ready for us to be friends again, and that I want to bring Lucy back into the circle, too… but I don’t. For some reason, I recall sitting on the school rooftop with Lucy, back when she was still calling herself Fang, listening to her spill her guts about herself: her anger, her fear, her pain and her sadness. I wanted so badly to cut her off and wrap my arms around her, letting her know everything would be okay and that I’d be there for her… but I didn’t. There’s a time to speak and a time to listen.

Finally, Trish looks up at me. Her eyes lock on to my own with a look so intense that, in any other scenario, I’d worry she was preparing to slam her horns into my chest. But it’s not murderous intent I see. It’s a look of fierce determination.

“When we were in high school, I did some pretty atrocious shit. I exposed your past in front of the whole senior class. I harassed Fa- … Lucy to the point where she blocked my number. I deceived her, and you, by setting up a band gig at prom. I… I thought it would magically make everything better, like in a fucking Dipley Channel show. I thought every move I was making was the right move, and I thought you were the problem. I blamed you for undoing everything I worked so hard to make Lucy into… but I didn’t realize that you weren’t the problem… I was.”

Trish clenches her fists. I can tell she wants to avert her eyes, but she doesn’t. She goes on, “God, I was so fucking stupid in high school. And for what? Why couldn’t I just let it be? Why couldn’t I give Lucy the time she needed to deal with her thoughts?! I pushed and pushed, trying so hard to be something for her that she didn’t need. I… I was so scared of losing my friend. I was scared of you taking her away. I was scared of her becoming something she didn’t want to be. I told her she was going to be trailer trash, spitting out babies and getting beat up by you. What the fuck did I think she was going to do?!”

Tears are starting to well up in her eyes. She finally averts her gaze as she blinks to keep them at bay. I remain silent and allow her to continue. “I thought I was always right. I thought everything I said and did was right. I thought that encouraging her to become non-binary would make her happy. I thought that her playing bass would turn our band into the next big thing. I thought you were going to be a bad influence on her… but I was wrong. I was wrong about it all, and I couldn’t see it.”

She looks up at me once more. “I wish I could go back and do it different, but I’m stuck with this life. I’m stuck with my decisions and the damage they caused. I know you won’t accept it, but I have to say it anyway… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I was in high school, and what I did to you and Lucy. I truly did want what was best for her… I just did it all wrong. And I’m sorry.”

Trish’s attempt to hold back her tears finally fails. She heaves out a tremendous weep, one that was bottled for too long. In an instant, I round the table and put my arms around her, bringing her into a hug. She lets out heavy sobs into my shoulder, sucking in air as best she can between bouts. I finally speak up.

“I forgive you, Trish. And I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for being an asshole in high school, and for not taking your feelings into consideration. I was so focused on Lucy that I pushed the thought of you aside. I treated you like a spare wheel, some extra baggage she had from before I arrived to be her knight in shining armor. And that was selfish and stupid of me. I should have worked things out with you, I should have been a better friend, and I’m sorry.”

Several minutes pass. Trish’s sobs slowly die down as I pat her on the shoulders. Finally, she shifts backward in her seat and I let her go. Her purple eyes are bloodshot and swollen, but she somehow looks lighter, as though a tremendous burden has been lifted from her back. She looks up at me with a smile, but quickly turns her attention downward. “Thank you, Anon- OH my God, your shirt!”

I glance down at my chest. A massive, wet shape adorns my once nicely-pressed white dress shirt. Smudges of deep purple makeup have traced a strange outline of a triceratops’s face. Tears have soaked through, morphing the shape into a melting caricature. If this was framed in a gallery, some might attribute the work to Pablo Ptecasso. Trish looks up at me in horror, and I shrug. “Eh. My cubemate cries in my shoulder whenever one of his e-girlfriends breaks up with him, and it usually looks worse than this.”

Trish lets out a snort, and we both burst out laughing. As she grabs a handful of napkins and tries fruitlessly to wipe the blemish from my clothes, Reed reenters the room with Patty. I’m fairly certain he was done changing her a while ago but chose to remain in the hall and let this play out. He places Patty back in her high chair and gives me a smile. “How much time you got left on your lunch break, amigo? Been a while since I kicked your ass at Rock Ring.”

I point an accusatory finger at Reed. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I was the undefeated king of Rock Ring, and I plan to maintain that title indefinitely. Also…” I glance at the clock on the wall. “I actually have to get rolling. I really appreciate lunch, thanks for having me!”

As I stand, Trish speaks up: “Anon… thanks for letting me get that off my chest. And please… please tell Lucy that-”

I gently raise a hand to cut her off. “I want you to tell her yourself. Back at prom, I told you that a day may come when things could be worked out between you two, and I still believe that. She just needs a little more time. I’m doing my best to help her work through everything, but… at the end of the day, she has to be the one that wants it to happen.”

At this, Trish gives a small smile and a nod. She understands that we’re not out of the weeds yet. This is going to require Lucy’s endorsement, too. The one who was hurt the most by the ordeal will be the final judge of whether our friendship can be restored or if it shall remain fragmented.

As I move toward the front entryway of the house, I give Patty a parting gift: I extend a finger and lightly boop her tiny nose. At this, she crosses her eyes and crinkles her snout. She lets out a surprised “Aahbah!” and starts giggling. Trish giggles as well and gives me a wave farewell as I step out the door with Reed.

Outside the house, Reed closes the door behind him, leaving the two of us on the front step. He glances at the purple, moistened splotch on my shirt, then back up to me, raising an eyebrow. I quickly realize the implication. “Oh! No, no- nothing happened, I just- she was-”

Reed cannot keep the facade up as he begins laughing his raspy laugh. “I’m just fucking with you, bro. I know, I heard the whole thing.” I vaguely recall him eavesdropping on a conversation between Trish and I back in high school, too. Some things really don’t change. He continues, “She had that bottled up inside for a long, long time. And I knew that if I warned her you were coming over, she’d start second-guessing herself and rewriting her script in her head. Best to rip the band-aid off in one swift motion.” He places a hand on my shoulder and gives me a nod. “Thanks for letting her get that out, and for accepting her apology. She’d have been devastated if you were still bitter.”

I shrug. “Like I said before, water under the bridge. I feel bad that she had to deal with all that baggage for so long.”

Reed shifts his head down slightly, looking at me as though a pair of spectacles sat on the end of his snout and he gazed over their rims. “What about Lucy?”

I let out a long breath through pursed lips. “... I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do.”

Reed gives me a smile and holds his hand out. “I believe in you, Anon. Me and Trish have got your back.”

I return the smile and shake his hand. “Thanks, Reed. Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

I glance over my shoulder once I arrive at my car parked on the side of the road. Reed gives a wave and a smile, then heads back into his house. As I climb into the driver’s seat, I let out a breath of relief. I was kind of dreading reconnecting with Trish, but I’m glad she was able to unpack her troubles and confide in me. I’m glad we were able to mend our friendship. Now it’s just a matter of helping Lucy get over her issues and get to a place where she’s ready to talk with the both of them again.

Lucy…

I glance down at my shirt once more. That… is incriminating. Thank Raptor Jesus I have my gym bag and a spare change of clothes in the trunk.