I turn away from him and try to ignore him and his inquisitive stare. I make silent work of my hands while pulling the sheet over the dead body and rolling it back into the cooler.
“Do you get a lot of animal attacks here?” He asks from behind me.
I turn and am surprised to find him much closer than before. I awkwardly take a step back and try not to be so aware of his every movement. “Uhh, no. No. I mean in a hospital you get animal attacks all the time, but not in the morgue. Umm, we sometimes see bodies that have been scavenged by animals, but those are always post mortem injuries.” I find myself babbling. “I imagine people out in the country have more problems with that than we do here. I once read a story about a man who’d been gored by a moose while he was out hiking. That was about hundred miles north of here though.”
Ray smiles patiently at me and I quickly make myself stop talking. “So we probably don’t have a pack of werewolves living amongst us.” He admits.
I laugh, “Uh, no. Probably not.” I glance up at him, “You didn’t actually mean what you said before right? That it might have been a werewolf?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Can’t rule out any possibilities.” His smile is so playful and joking I’m not sure if he’s being serious or if he’s just messing with me.
“Okay,” I try to reason out his logic, “have you ever met a werewolf or seen one?” I question.
He sighs, “Admittedly no. I have read many books on the subject though.”
I laugh, “And you believe everything you read?”
“No, but I believe these books.”
“Okay.” I turn away from him. Why do all of the cute ones have to be weird? I think back to the day I first met Ray a few years ago. Detective Shaw had brought him in to help with a case involving lots of candles and pentagrams and a lot of blood. Whatever impression Ray had made on Detective Shaw back then must have been a good one because she’s kept him around since. Anytime anything out of the ordinary happens he seems to pop up and get himself involved in it.
“But jokes aside I do have a serious question for you.” He says as I pick up a bottle of cleaner and start spraying down the examination table. It’s already been cleaned, but it doesn’t hurt to do it again and it gives me an excuse to keep my back turned to him.
“And what do you want to know?” I ask as I start scrubbing the table down with a washcloth. The metal is so shiny I can see my reflection and the overhead lights glinting off it.
“Well, it’s six in the morning and I know that you’ve been here all night and that your shift should be ending soon so I was wondering if maybe you would like to join me for breakfast…”
I freeze and find myself staring down at the table as his words replay in my mind. Breakfast? He wants to have breakfast… with me? Like a date? Or something else? Does that mean he’s gay? That he likes me? But I’m trans… should I tell him that? What if he changes his mind if I tell him though? I’ve never told anyone outside of my family.
“Uh, Des?” Ray’s voice brings me back out of my head. “Should I take your silence as a no?”
I quickly set the cleaner and washcloth down and turn to him, “Uh no. I mean I am getting off of work soon and breakfast” with you “sounds…” really nice. Somehow the words I want to say don’t want to leave my head though. Instead I trail off feeling dumb. I should just tell
him I’m trans. It’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. And what if he doesn’t like it? So what. He can just go his own way and that won’t bother me at all. It’s fine. But what if he’s not interested in me like that at all? What if he just means as friends and I’m freaking out for no reason? “But, um, when you say breakfast do you mean like as friends?” I ask trying to clarify.
“If you want it to be as just friends I’m fine with that, but I was actually hoping for it to be something more.” He smiles at me and my heart suddenly leaps into my throat. “I’m sensing a lot of inner turmoil right now though, so is it a bad idea?”
I shake my head trying to clear it out, “What? Are you psychic now or something?” I joke.
“No,” he grins, “I was just reading your aura and the expression of pure panic on your face.”
I try to laugh it off, “I am not panicking.” I lie. “I’m just… confused.” There, that’s a good word.
“About what? I like you. You like me. Let’s go on a date.” He shrugs as if it’s that simple and for most people maybe it is.
I laugh more genuine this time, “You are really confident.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say confident.” He disagrees. Sure. I decide not to argue. “So…” He leans closer to me as he reiterates his question, “Breakfast? Yes, no?”
“Uh, how about maybe?” I take a deep breath to steady my heart. “Um, autopsy needs to be done for the animal attack vic…” And I still need to notify the next of kin for another recent death sitting in the cooler and I’ve got about three other bodies that I need to get shipped off to different funeral homes. I run my fingers through the tight curls of my hair and try to make my
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