Eggs and Kisses

Chapter 2-2

Dom glanced over where Kiko was seated in the chair, reading to kids that paid far less attention now that the incident with the goat was fresh in their minds. Some of them kept turning around to look at the door, hoping Buddy would be back with the animal. Kiko himself seemed more relaxed now as he read, and Dom’s mind wandered.

He kind of did want a goat, now that he’d seen one. Not having to mow the lawn sounded good. But he knew Kiko would not want it in the house, and everything that would take—building a little shed for it, a pen, even feeding it—was more than Dom wanted to do. He stuck a large sticker dead in the middle of the canvas and considered how to make the thing look random enough for Kiko’s eye.

Maybe they should get a pet. He’d dated people with pets but had never actually bought or adopted one with a partner before. Together. He and Kiko would argue over names.

“Excuse me,” said a woman who appeared to be one of the children’s grandmother. “Can I get that book he’s reading?” She pointed at Kiko.

“Sure,” said Dom, and went to grab it and ring her up.

“I remember when it was nice in here,” she said, sniffing. “Just the cute goose. Not the whole farm.”

“The goat won’t be back,” said Dom, thinking he was getting better at handling customers the more he helped out at Yolks on You. “Buddy just wanted an opinion on it.”

“I hope he’s not proposing to anyone with it,” she said, accepting the paper bag with the book. “Thank you. People now, they have to outdo each other with things like that. Film it and put it on the internet. Ridiculous.”

“I completely agree with you,” said Dom. Customers liked it when you agreed with them. “And the goat’s not coming back, so feel free to stop by Yolks on You whenever.” He shuffled some things around on the back counter to make it look like he was tidying while she sat down, then returned to his stickers, thinking.

Normally he hated Valentine’s Day and all it stood for, people bragging about their relationship triumphs, the expectations to not be single. But at the moment, the proposal angle seemed brilliant. He hated the holiday, Kiko hated the holiday—what better way to tease Kiko than to give him a fake proposal? Maybe it could even become their tradition. A way to mock the day that they could both enjoy.

But even Dom knew that a goat would make a shitty proposal, regardless of whether it was a joke. No, he had to find the perfect thing, something that was simultaneously not serious at all, yet keeping in with the theme. He turned options over in his mind.

Kiko finished his series of stories about the same time Dom finished the fifth box of canvases. There was a slight turnover in business; most people made their last purchases and left with their kids, leaving anyone who was wandering the aisles to browse. Dom grabbed up the box of canvases and took them back to the basement, passing by Kiko, who was clearing tables, as he went.

“No,” said Kiko when he met his eye. “We’re not getting a goat.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” muttered Dom and pulled open the door to the basement. When he got back, Kiko was wiping down tables. Dom returned to his own and scooped the sticker backs into his garbage can. Kiko really was grumpy. Dom didn’t often see him like this.

He’d toyed with the idea of going out to eat, getting down on one knee, and proposing that they never celebrate the day again, but now staying in sounded like a good idea. A great joke would be his own cooking, he knew. Dom struggled to make anything fancy; his terrible cooking passed off as romance would be funny. He’d even light candles. The ones Kiko kept in the guest bathroom for visitors.

“What, Dom?” asked Kiko, crossing to wipe down Dom’s table with the damp cloth. “You look like you’re scheming something. Please don’t tell me you’ve found another mystery.”

“Something better than that,” said Dom, then, before Kiko could ask, “Why don’t you like Valentine’s Day?”

“You didn’t seem too keen on it yourself,” said Kiko, scraping up the waxy back of a sticker that had stuck to the table. “I believe you said you hated it?”

“Yeah, well. I’m not into all that overwhelming love thing. What I don’t understand is why you hate it. There’s not even any decorations in here.”

“I do have decorations, and we will be putting them up tomorrow,” said Kiko. He didn’t look at Dom, like he knew he’d been putting it off as long as possible and didn’t want to admit it. Dom could only stare as he walked off and went back behind the counter again. He hadn’t thought there was a holiday invented that Kiko didn’t like.