Worst Valentine's Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology

by Kilby Blades

  He settled for texting.

  Your chariot awaits.

  Three minutes later, Terrence came dashing out, tucking in his volunteer polo shirt as he went.

  “Thanks, Dalton,” Terrence said as he slid into the passenger seat. Movement in the backseat caught his attention. He turned to look over his shoulder and snickered.

  Hendrix and Clapton bobbed their heads together in time to Korn’s Falling Away from Me.

  “How’d you end up with babysitting duty?”

  Dalton backed out of the driveway after double and triple checking and followed the directions on the screen back to Foothill Boulevard.

  “Babysitter cancelled. I was just going to feed them pizza and watch movies, but then you mentioned the program and I thought it would be fun.”

  Terrence had been doing his community service at Sulphur Creek in Hayward, a wildlife rehabilitation and education center in the East Bay. He’d mentioned that, for Valentine’s Day, they were having some sort of a kids’ program about animal mating habits. Sounded…interesting? He figured if it would keep the boys occupied for a bit, it would help make his first solo babysitting gig a success.

  He just wished Orrie were here.

  “I want you to meet Tasha. She’s great. She knows so much about all of the animals there.”

  Dalton raised an eyebrow. “Tasha?”

  Terrence frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s in charge of the volunteers. She signs my timecards.”

  “She’s great, huh?” Dalton only teased because Terrence was usually much more likely to describe a woman’s physique than give an overall “she’s great.”

  “Yeah,” Terrence said, staring out the window. “She’s different. Like, she’s doing important work and she’s really passionate about it. I admire her.”

  Dalton fought hard to silence the smart-ass remark he was ready with. It was a genetic predisposition that he hated. Their father, grandfather, and uncles were all smart-asses, and Peter Bishop had schooled his sons well in the art. Luckily, once Dalton had gotten away from the other Bishop men, his need to bite back had subsided and he could actually hold pleasant conversations. Was it possible that his middle brother could do the same?

  “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

  Terrence nodded and Dalton sighed happily. It wasn’t often that he and his brother could sit in an enclosed space for a length of time without one of them leaving pissed off. Maybe things were changing for the better. Terrence getting a DUI had been awful, and Dalton had laid into him about it, but it could have been much worse. Perhaps it was the rock bottom he’d needed to hit and he could climb from there.

  “Are we gonna be there soon?” Hendrix asked just as Dalton turned into the parking lot for Sulphur Creek. It was dusk and the Hayward Hills around them were dark against a delicate pink and purple sunset. Dalton took a moment to step out of the car and gaze at the colors before unleashing the hellions from the backseat.

  He and Orrie frequently took walks at this time of day and talked about anything and everything. Walking seemed to loosen Orrie’s tongue. When he was physically active, he was even more open with Dalton about his feelings.

  It had been during one of those walks that they’d had a conversation that had stuck with Dalton.

  They’d spent a lot of time at Coyote Hills in Fremont over the past summer. It was between their house and Orrie’s family’s house. Often, they’d walked at sunset and then joined Orrie’s mom or Olive and Patrick for dinner. On that particular day, they’d been talking about the boys and a recent trip to the zoo they’d taken with the boys and Patrick

  “Patrick is amazing, how he handles both of the boys at the same time. It’s like he has a sixth sense and just knows where they are at all times.”

  Orrie squeezed his hand. “My father never took us anywhere because he always said he was afraid of losing one of us. He claimed we never listened to him.”

  Dalton heard the hurt and disappointment in his voice. “I think you’re just as wonderful with the boys as Patrick, regardless of whether your father took you anywhere. You are so good with them.”

  Orrie shrugged. “I miss them a lot when I’m on tour. Sometimes I wish I could have been, like, their manny or something. But then I figure they’re better off with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  “I understand. My dad was best at teaching us to fight, both directly and indirectly by allowing our roughhousing to go unchecked. I would never want to do to a child what he did to us.”

  Orrie cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t, babe. You’d be a great dad.”

  Dalton shook his head. “I’m too afraid to try. I love kids, but you see how hard it is for me to get along with my brothers. Bickering is like a reflex when I’m around them. What if I was like that with my own kids? I can’t take that chance.”

  “I guess we’ll just settle for spoiling Hendrix and Clapton then.” Orrie laughed, but it was a sad sound, one that let Dalton know Orrie was disappointed.

  Dalton had apparently been too long with his thoughts, as he heard a noise. He turned to see Hendrix’s face smashed against the window of the car, his nose pushed up like a little piggy, leaving behind marks consisting of some body fluid Dalton didn’t even want to contemplate.

  “Out! Out! Out!” the boys chanted.

  “I’ll grab Clapton,” Terrence said, and Dalton gave him a sharp look.

  Since when did Terrence offer to help with anything?

  “Thank you,” Dalton said when he realized he’d been staring quietly for too long. Hendrix had already unhooked himself from his car seat. He jumped up and down on the floorboard, making the whole car bounce. Dalton hurriedly set him free from the backseat before he did any real damage.

  Hendrix grabbed for his hand like a reflex and the amount of trust in that one movement made Dalton’s eyes well up. He reached for the go-bag shoved between the seats and took a moment to compose himself before locking the car.

  “You ready to learn, boys?” he asked as they moved as a group toward the steps.

  “I wanna see da aminals,” Clapton said. He fought Terrence’s hold on his hand as they descended the steps.

  Terrence stopped and bent down to his level a bit.

  “Hey, buddy. You gotta hold my hand because it’s easy to get lost here and the steps are really steep.”

  Clapton brushed his hair out of his eyes and grabbed for Terrence’s hand.

  “You take me to da aminals?”

  “Yeah. We’ll go see Miss Tasha and she’ll teach you all about them.”

  Dalton snorted and Terrence turned around.

  “What?” Dalton grinned mischievously. He couldn’t help it. He was happy for his brother, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

  “Don’t be an ass,” Terrence muttered.

  “Ooooooooo,” both the boys said, and then they giggled.

  “Sorry.” Terrence seemed thoroughly admonished for his lapse.

  Terrence remained quiet on the rest of the walk down the steps and past the compound. The boys pulled at their hands, trying to get to all of the different cages to see the animals. Dalton and Terrence held on for dear life as the two whirlwinds darted back and forth and stopped on a dime before rushing forward.

  They made it to a classroom without further incident and found more boys and girls around the same ages as Hendrix and Clapton. The buzz of activity seemed to jump to a higher level when they entered, and Dalton was immediately rammed in the leg by two little girls chasing each other around the tables.

  “I’m so sorry,” the desperate mother said as she pushed past him to grab the girls.

  Dalton was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one struggling with his charges.

  “Boys, let’s grab a seat up front so you don’t miss anything.”

  Dalton looked for three chairs together and sat down in the middle, assuming the boys would sit on either side of him. Instead, the boys began shoving each o
ther and fighting over who would sit on Dalton’s lap.

  “Hey, guys, I have two legs. There’s room for both of you.”

  They immediately stopped their fussing, each climbed on a knee, and sat up straight, waiting for the class to start.

  Dalton was shocked that they’d settled down and once more had to get his emotions under control. These boys had come to mean so much to him in such a short time. And if he were being honest, being with them was nothing like being with his brothers. He never felt the urge to tease or—more accurately—belittle them. Maybe it was strictly a Bishop family defect, one that wouldn’t continue?

  Terrence stood near the front talking to a woman in a khaki park ranger uniform and worn hiking boots. She had long, dark hair in two braids, big brown eyes, and an enthusiastic smile just for Terrence. He leaned close and said something near her ear, and she laughed before shooing him away, presumably so that she could get started. Terrence gave a wave before heading outside.

  Clapton wiggled on his lap. “I gotta pee-pee,” he whispered loudly.

  Oh Lord.

  Dalton collected the boys and headed for the restrooms, praying once more he wasn’t in over his head with these two balls of energy.

  Sanjay made three wrong turns before finally turning into the dark, wooded parking area at the top of the hill.

  “Good to see you, man,” Sanjay said as they shook hands. “Please tell Dalton it’s all my fault you’re late.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell him you secretly like working the reception desk.”

  “No! Then he’ll put me in charge of the Secret Santa exchange again. You know how hard it is to get people to follow directions?”

  Orrie waved to Sanjay as he drove off and looked around.

  “Hello, murder scene.” Orrie figured if he made it out of here alive, he’d write the perfect song about it.

  The lone streetlight shone down on gravel-covered stairs that led into darkness below. He spotted Dalton’s car at the far end of the lot so he knew it was the right place. It still gave him heebie-jeebies, though.

  The stairs led down to a wooden bridge that spanned a ravine. He heard running water so he assumed there was a creek under him, hence the name. The bridge was lit at either end and stairs led farther down the hill. There were lights far off to his left, so he turned that way at the bottom of the stairs. He heard rustling sounds all around him, as though he were under sheets, which was where he wished he was…with Dalton.

  As he neared the lights, he saw that the rustling was coming from a series of large cages. Something with a large wingspan whooshed down to the ground in one of them, and Orrie walked closer to check it out. A giant brown bird looked over its shoulder and, as Orrie walked past, he saw it had something furry clutched in its talons.

  “Sorry, dude,” Orrie whispered.

  The bird watched him as though he were next in the buffet line, or would be as soon as the giant feathered beast figured out how to leave his cage.

  “That’s a golden eagle.”

  Orrie jumped out of his skin and gave a decidedly unmanly squeak.

  “Jesus, Terrence! You gave me a fright.”

  Terrence cackled. “You should see your face right now.”

  Terrence was Dalton’s middle brother, and Orrie remembered Dalton telling him he was working here doing community service for a DUI. It had happened a week after Thanksgiving, and thankfully no one was hurt, but Terrence had spent the weekend in jail and came out ready to make some major changes. He’d started going to meetings and was doing his community service like a good boy.

  Didn’t change the fact that Orrie thought the guy was a selfish ass who took advantage of his brother.

  Dalton had said that Terrence loved working here and may have actually found his calling. He loved the animals and the children’s programs and was thinking of trying to get a job with the park service or rec department once he was finished serving his time. It seemed out of character in Orrie’s mind, but Dalton always tried to see the positive.

  “It’s dark as fuck out here. What the hell are you doing?”

  “One last check on the animals and cleaning up trash from the day. Dalton’s inside with the boys. I told him there was a fun program tonight for the kids, so when he took on uncle duty, he brought them here. Tasha is leading it.”

  Ahhh. There was a chick involved.

  “Rad. He doesn’t know I’m here. My flight was delayed and last I told him I wasn’t sure I could make it.”

  “That’s cool,” he said, and then he chuckled. “It’s probably a good thing you came. I think he’s in over his head.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Orrie said, though he was sure Dalton would appreciate the help. “Point me in the right direction?”

  “I’ll take you. I should see if Tasha needs anything.”

  Terrence led him down the path, past a building, and around the back of another one.

  “This is the classroom,” Terrence said as they turned the corner.

  Orrie peeked in the window and his heart stuttered as he spotted his beloved.

  Dalton Bishop was the most adorable man on the planet, especially with Orrie’s nephews sitting on each knee. The boys were listening intently to the teacher—Tasha, apparently—talk about the tiny owl she had perched on her arm. Dalton had his arms protectively around them, probably more to keep them from launching themselves at the bird.

  “Owls mate for life. Once they find a mate, they’ll breed and watch over the nest together. The male will bring food to the female as she stays with the eggs. Barn owls are even known to cuddle together and show affection.”

  Orrie watched from just outside the screen door, waiting for a good moment to step in. The boys giggled together, and Dalton tried to keep them focused on the teacher. Anyone watching from the outside might think they were Dalton’s boys, as good as he was with them.

  Hendrix and Clapton Donnelly made Orrie’s world a better place. At 5 and 3, respectively, they both sported long, dark blond, curly hair, rock shirts and attitude. They were brilliant and already showing musical aptitude. Orrie had bought them a drum set for Christmas and Hendrix could already keep up with some of his favorite songs. Clapton sang all the time, especially when he was using his froggy potty. Before Olive started potty training him, he used to hide in Olive’s closet to poop, all while singing at the top of his lungs.

  “You coming in?” Terrence asked him.

  Orrie nodded. For a split second, he wondered if maybe he should wait, but he couldn’t stay away from Dalton and the boys for one more minute. If he just snuck in the back…

  The screen door creaked as he pulled it open.

  “UNKIE OH-WEE!”

  Orrie immediately realized the folly of his decision.

  Clapton saw him first and launched himself off of Dalton’s lap, knocking Hendrix over and racking poor Dalton’s groin in the process.

  “Boys! Remember that Orville the Owl likes quiet—”

  The poor owl took off from the woman’s arm, where thankfully it was tethered, and flapped around her head. Orrie couldn’t tell which was louder, the screeching of the owl or the ten or so other kids shrieking.

  “I’m so sorry!” Orrie said as he knelt beside his poor red-faced Dalton. He took the boys into his arms and tried to shush them. “Surprise?”

  Dalton winced and tried to smile. Clapton’s foot must have really connected. “It’s good to see you,” he groaned.

  Terrence tried to help the instructor get Orville settled back down. Thankfully he seemed to have the magic touch.

  “Thank you,” the flustered woman said. “We’re going to take a quick break to put Orville away. Say goodnight, kids.”

  They all shouted good night and the poor owl shrieked again. It wasn’t very big, smaller than a pigeon actually, but the thing was loud.

  “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” Dalton leaned in for a kiss, which meant getting their cheeks simultaneously kissed by the
boys.

  “It was either spend two days off in Dallas, or finally get to spend Valentine’s Day with you.”

  “I can’t believe you flew all the way home. I know you hate taking these short trips.”

  Orrie needed to express his fears to Dalton, but this wasn’t the time. “I needed to see you.” He sounded more cryptic than he intended. He hoped that Dalton would understand when they finally spoke.

  The boys watched their exchange with interest, probably waiting to be sure they were part of Orrie’s decision-making process.

  “And to see my boys, of course. I couldn’t let them have all the animal fun without me, now could I?”

  “Unkie Oh-wee! They gonna has tranchula!”

  “Really?” Orrie said, swallowing back a little bile. “That’s…something.”

  Dalton gave him a sympathetic smile, but he frowned slightly—as though he had questions.

  Tasha came back, followed by Terrence sporting puppy-dog eyes. “Okay everyone, we put Orville back to bed. I would like to introduce our next night-loving friend, but I need you all to promise you’ll stay seated and quiet, otherwise we won’t be able to see any more friends tonight.”

  Orrie sat on a small chair next to Dalton and took Hendrix onto his lap. His nephew’s little body was vibrating with the need to wiggle, but he was trying so hard to stay still. Poor kid. Orrie’d had similar struggles as a young boy. He’d been in a constant state of motion. Luckily, Hendrix didn’t seem to have worries like he did. By his age, Orrie was already perseverating. It had taken therapy and patience from his mom to help him make it through the challenges of school.

  “Our next friend is Tallulah the Tarantula.”

  Orrie immediately broke out in a sweat. Spiders. The object of his ridiculous phobia. Now Hendrix wasn’t the only one vibrating.

  “Tallulah, like most female tarantulas, spends most of her time living in her den. During mating season, at dusk, male tarantulas go out walking around, looking for love. Sadly, males don’t usually live very long, and oftentimes they only get one chance to mate. Tallulah was rescued by local firefighters who discovered her den while cleaning up after a house fire. They brought her to us for safekeeping, and she’s been with us about three years now. The delicate hairs on her body had been singed and the firefighters were worried she might not be able to fend for herself. Female tarantulas can live for many years, so we hope to have Tallulah in our education program for a long time to come. Now, would any of you like to get a hug from Tallulah?”