Page 107 of Full Contact

Hog turned around in the doorway. “You said no gifts.”

“For her. Mark said no gifts for her.” Pickle pointed at me with his free hand. “Nobody said anything about him.”

I took the cat. The pipe cleaners were soft and a little bent where it had ridden in his pocket next to the candy. I unfolded the Post-it.

Small. Undefeated.

“Heath has two of mine,” Pickle said. “On a shelf. Now you’ve got one.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He shrugged into the rest of his coat, looking pleased.

Varga had his travel mug and his coat and was holding the door for them. “You make these? With your hands?”

“Who else’s hands would I use?”

“How long does one take?”

“Depends on the animal. Cats are fast. I did a moose once. Three days.”

“I want a moose.”

“You haven’t earned a moose.”

“What have I earned?”

Pickle considered him in the doorway. “Maybe a duck.”

“I’ll take a duck,” Varga said, and followed them out. “A big one. How do I find you to collect it?”

The door shut behind them. Priya and Ben began packing up by the wall.

Mark turned around. “Do you regret suggesting Varga?”

“I’ll have to see whether they exchanged phone numbers.”

Out in the hall, waiting for the elevator, Varga raised his voice.

“No. Put it in as ‘Lucas.’ Everybody puts me in as ‘Varga.’ I want to be different in your phone.”

***

Heath asked me whether everybody had arrived while I was still taking off my coat.

He stood in the middle of the locker room in his game-day suit, phone in one hand, tie not yet tied.

“Mark sent the list,” I said.

“I know. I’ve seen it.” He looked at the phone. “Desrosiers landed last night. Hog and Rhett parked. Jake texted from the hotel.”

“Then everybody’s here.”

“Pickle hasn’t texted.”

“Pickle was in my living room five hours ago. He’s here.”

Heath nodded and looked at the phone again. Across the room, Kieran was taping a stick. He kept his back to us.