“Yes, sir,” I say meekly.
“That’s better. Now, you boys all set? It’s only two weeks away, you know, and if you’re anything like me, you probably should start packing your wigs and feather boas right now.”
“I don’t have either,” I say sadly. “What have I done with my life that I have nary a wig or feather boa?”
“Oh, Tyson,” Sandy says, “that can be easily remedied. I do believe I still have some leftover Cher wigs from my early days. As my drag mother Vaguyna Muffman used to say, ‘Helena, aside from the stage presence, the accessories of the queen are her most important asset. Make sure you’re careful to protect them when getting spunk shot on you in a twelve-man gangbang because come is very hard to clean from Lycra and feathers.’”
“That’s… sage advice,” I say.
“Isn’t it? Vaguyna did have a way with words, bless her heart. Now, you’ll be staying with me, Tyson, while you’re both here, as long as you don’t mind sharing the bed with Corey in the guest room. And you know you can stay as long as you like. Mi casa is your casa, and all that. And, Corey, it’ll be lovely to finally have you home. It’s been far too long.”
“Missed you too,” Corey says, blowing a kiss. “We’ll be ready. It’s probably going to take us two days to get there. I’ll let you know where we’re at.”
Sandy nods. “Take your time and—”
He’s cut off when a dog howls in the background. “Wheels!” he shouts, looking annoyed. “That animal, I swear.”
“You got a dog?” Corey asks. “I thought you hated dogs.”
“I do,” he says, and I wonder just what kind of diabolical person could hate dogs. “But I’m doing Paul a favor. He and Vince are on vacation right now and won’t be back until next week. They’ve already been gone two weeks, and this little asshole is pooping on my nice duvets.”
“It’s revenge because you hate dogs,” I say.
“I didn’t say I hate him,” Sandy says. “Just dogs in general. Wheels is… not quite a dog. More machine than mutt, I think. You’ll see when you get here. I love the little bastard, even if he makes my life a living hell.”
“Vince is Paul’s boyfriend,” Corey tells me. “And Paul is that Bear clone I was telling you about and Sandy’s best friend.”
“Is Bear your older brother?” Sandy asks me. “Corey’s told me about him. Bear and Paul can never meet. I shudder to think what would happen if they do. Our world as we know it could cease to exist. Either that, or there’d just be one long high-pitched conversation that would make no sense whatsoever.”
“We’ll keep them far apart,” I tell Sandy.
“Where are Paul and Vince?” Corey asks.
“Asia,” Sandy says. “They were supposed to go in the spring, but Paul’s nana got sick and they postponed the trip. She’s doing much better now and threatened Paul with a swift ass-kicking if he didn’t stop hovering over her, so they decided to go while they could.”
Sounds like something Mrs. Paquinn would say.
“Why Asia?” Corey asks.
Sandy rolls his eyes. “Long story, baby doll. Let’s just say Vince wanted to see fortune-cookie factories.”
Uh, okay? Because that totally makes sense.
“They’ll be back by the time you get here,” Sandy says. “We’ll have ourselves a blast before we send sweet innocent Tyson back to the coast.” She smiles, and it’s a wicked thing filled with all sorts of promises that I don’t know quite how to take. “Of course,” she says, her voice a growl, “he won’t be quite so innocent then, now, will he? Tyson, tell me, dear. You ever shot your load onto a drag queen’s feathers?”
“I honestly can’t say that I have,” I admit.
He winks. “First time for everything. They’re just going to eat you up. I, for one, can’t wait to witness the carnage.”
“Super,” I say. “Fun. Neat.”
“Corey, you going to see the fosters while you’re here?”
Corey shakes his head slowly, his mouth going into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t know if I’ll have the time.” The voice he speaks in is softer, almost fluttery, and it’s Kori through and through. He told me once that sometimes that Kori made him feel safer when he was upset. I didn’t understand it then because I’d had no experience with the bigendered before. Now, I wonder about it.
Sandy turns to look behind the couch. “Wheels! You better not be shitting on my imported area rug!” He looks back at us. “Have to go, baby dolls. I need to see how fast a two-legged dog can run.” He winks and the screen goes blank.
“Two-legged dog?” I ask.