The Short One

“Hmm, there’s something different about you, Rico. But I can’t place my finger on it,” Ryan said, stroking his chin.

“You mean the lack of makeup?” Pete asked, serving himself another plate of chicken wings.

The three of them were at a barbecue at Ryan’s home.

“Exactly,” Ryan said, clicking his finger at Pete.

“Besides, you’ve been strange ever since France. So what’s up? One brother to another.”

“Does something have to be up for someone to make a change around here?” Rico drawled, setting up himself on the beach chair with his own plate, and booze.

“Even the voice!” Ryan exclaimed.

“What is wrong bro?”

Then he turned to Pete who was approaching them.

“I think it’s too late for a mid-life crisis, Pete. Help me out here.”

Pete laughed as he sat down on the recliner, and faced the other two.

“But seriously Rico, what’s up? You know you can trust us.”

“Exactly. James isn’t here.”

Rico sighed, and glanced around. Then pulled off his shades.