Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Gage nods. Kai doesn’t look like he’ll last much longer without saying something he’ll regret later. Most of the time he can keep a lid on whatever emotions he’s got going on, but this is Lexy, and the more my brother wants something, the more his impatience can get the better of him.
I make my way past the extra tables, making a general announcement as I go that I’ve been called in to work, getting a collective sound of disappointment in response. I usually hang out with the younger cousins after dinner, playing games with them outside to burn off their energy and get them ready to crash when their parents take them home.
I catch Lexy’s eye briefly, and nod to her mother, but don’t stop to talk. As I make my way to my car, I send up a quick prayer that the evening doesn’t end in disaster.
GAGE
“Let’s start on the dishes,” I say to Kai. He always does better when he can keep busy; unless he’s working on a tattoo or some other kind of art, sitting still is not something he’s good at.
He pushes his chair back without a word, and we start collecting plates and loading the dishwasher, a Mother’s Day gift from Kai and Thorn a few years ago. Mrs. Sanchez still does the dishes by hand sometimes, but she loves having the dishwasher for big meals like this.
We quickly have enough for our first load, and get the machine going. I look around for something else to keep us occupied, and spy one of the uncles outside with a bunch of the younger kids. Nudging Kai, I say, “Doesn’t Juan like to watch the soccer games?”
Kai rolls his eyes at me. “Football, you mean. Or American football, if that’s all that’s on.”
“Whatever,” I say, just to piss him off and distract him from brooding about Lexy. “Let’s go relieve him so he can come in and watch tv.”
So we go outside and spend an hour with a bunch of wired-up kids, running them ragged. It’s a good workout. As the aunts and uncles start to collect the young cousins in preparation for leaving, Kai folds his arms and watches them go.
“You want kids?” he asks suddenly.
I stare at him. “What?”
He jerks his head at the departing horde. “Kids. You want ‘em?”
So much for distracting him. I say softly, “You mean with Lexy.”
“Of course with Lexy. Who else?”
“That’s really up to her,” I point out.
“Sure. But if she’s willing.”
I let myself imagine it. A tiny person, held in Lexy’s arms, sleeping or squalling or smiling. The wave of longing that hits me is so strong my knees almost buckle.
With an effort, I stay upright. “Yes,” I say, and am surprised that my voice sounds more or less normal. “If she’s willing.”
Kai just nods, as if confirming something he already knew.
And I feel like a man standing on a precipice, daring the wind not to gust and blow him over the edge.
LEXY
Reality seems to be demanding my return sooner rather than later.
I know Mrs. Sanchez didn’t mean anything bad by seating Mom and me here with the cousins. I remember, from Thanksgivings the boys told me about when we were growing up, that the family elders have the seats of honor at the main table. We’re being treated like family, which is its own kind of honor.
But I can’t escape the feeling that Mrs. Sanchez wanted me out of the way. I’ve noticed her noticing, these past few weeks, the undercurrents connecting me to her sons and to Gage. Mr. Sanchez has been more circumspect, but I have no doubt he’s noticed too.
And while I know it’s a busy day, and Mrs. Sanchez is the hostess, she was warmly polite but not much more when she greeted us and led us to our assigned places. Was it just because she was distracted, or was it a subtle sign of disapproval?
I hate that I’m feeling this way about a couple I love and respect, and I do my best to put it out of my mind and focus on the cousins around me, who are a friendly bunch on the whole. But that turns out to be its own minefield.
“I hear you’re dating Kai,” one of them says, her young face a mask of innocence.
“I heard it was Thorn,” another chimes in.
“Really?” a third cousin says. “I heard it was Gage.”
Maybe there’s a trap door under the table that I can use to escape. Avoiding eye contact with all of them, I say, “We’re just good friends.”
Laughter greets this pronouncement, and then I’m hit with questions from all sides, all of which I refuse to answer. Desperate to change the focus to something—anything—else, I remember Kai mentioning that one of the cousins does community theater, so I ask her about her latest role.