Layla

Aces!

Mark

I leaned into the car to get the bags and flowers out for Layla’s birthday. Given that she wasn’t well on her birthday—something which had happened to me as a kid—so I’d decided to get some other things to spoil her with.

“Make her stop!” someone bellowed from inside the house, and the slow walking I’d been doing up the stairs to the porch turned into a jump and a sprint to the front door.

“What did you give her? I said Tylenol and ibuprofen, not whatever this is.”

Pushing the door open, I took in the scene in front of me. There was toilet paper spread out around the place like someone had been running around with a roll of it.

The television had a crack through the screen, making half of it just a bright colored splotch as whatever they’d been watching continued to play on the other half. Hay and sawdust were scattered everywhere, and the three men—Cole, Jack, and Hurst—were covered in it as they stared at something in front of them.

Following where they were looking, I saw feet sticking out the end of the couch, which had been tipped over onto its side.

Closing the door, I asked slowly, “What’s going on?”

All three men looked at me with relief.

“Thank God you’re back,” Hurst cried, trying to make his way toward me and jerking to a halt when Cole caught him by this shirt. “Let go of me. He’s married to this disaster, so he gets to sit through this shit.”

“There wouldn’t be any shit to sit through if it wasn’t for you,” Cole seethed.

Jack just looked like he was going to cry. “It’s terrible.”

That worried me enough to drop everything and run over to where I could see the feet. “Did she get crushed when it tipped over? Layla? Baby, I’m going to lift it off you. Just stay still, and we’ll get you out of there.”

“Man, what are you talking about?” Cole asked, pointing at the television behind him. “The last time we tried to do that, she threw one of your dog’s toys at us.”

Well, that explained the television.

“She started off as Batman, then decided she was a rabbit like that big bastard in the pantry,” Hurst snapped. “We’ve been toilet papered, and then we had to feed her carrots while she hopped around on her hands and knees.”

“At least she didn’t poop on the floor,” Cole pointed out, shooting his grandad a dirty look.

Hurst threw his hands in the air. “Well, thank shit for small mercies then, right? Like it wasn’t bad enough that she almost garroted me with a wet sheet and then spat mouthfuls of chewed carrot at me.”

“I’m of the opinion her taking a dump on the ground and being too out of her mind to clean it up herself would be worse than that,” Cole offered. “What if the dog ran through it?”

“Where is the dog?” I asked, turning around to see if I could see him anywhere.

Jack said nothing but pointed at the front of his hoodie.

“Is your stomach moving?”

He nodded and pulled the zipper down just enough for a little head to poke out over the top. At least Zeus was safe from whatever was going on in here.

Seeing as how Cole seemed to be the most lucid one for once, I asked him, “What’s going on? Is the fever making Layla act weird? Have y’all called a doctor?”

Cole glared at Hurst. “What’s going on is that this guy gave her painkillers, and now she thinks she’s a cross between Batman and a rabbit. What we’ve got is the Energizer bunny from hell, who turned this place over in five minutes flat with some toilet paper, a couple of pushes on the couch, and five carrots.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please tell me Layla hasn’t developed a sensitivity to medications like you have.”

“What? No, but when you give her painkillers that were prescribed after someone had surgery on their foot, that’s when the freaky shit apparently starts happening.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Th-the doctor said it was probably because she’s so ru-run d-down and they’re…” he choked on whatever he was going to say.

Looking at Cole to explain it, he shoved his hand into the hair on the top of his head. “Man, she’s been sick for a few days, and her body’s fighting a lot. Add that onto antibiotics and painkillers for surgery on a fused big toe, and you’ve got a hot mess express running around.”