“Come on,” I said, just as I had earlier. I handed him the white paper bag of food and one of the coffees.
“Come onagain?”he demanded, sighing lavishly like he was totally put out and then grinning a second later. “Where are we going this time?”
The grin kinda killed me, because I could tell it was genuine, not just him putting on a happy front, and—
AndJesus, I was some kind of Constantine Ross expert now, able to determine the type and sincerity of his grins? This was getting worse and worse.
Con pushed his door open and jumped down, then turned back to look at me. “Uh. You coming too, big guy? Or was the plan to dump me here with just enough food to survive and see if I could make it back to town?” He shook the paper bag.
I blinked. “Yeah, right,” I said, recovering myself. “There’d be no challenge in that. You’d bat those pretty eyelashes at the first person to drive along, whether it was a minivan-driving mom or good old boy in a pickup, and you’d be back in O’Leary before I was.”
Con’s smile widened. “Aw. You think my eyelashes are pretty?” He fluttered them, and a helpless laugh was torn out of me.
Well, fuck.
Okay, then, I thought, as things settled into place in my mind.Bad bet or not, Micah, you’re in this.
I stopped at the bed of the truck and took out a heavy blanket, then pointed to a break in the trees. “We’re heading over there. There’s a path that leads to a boardwalk and an observation area.”
Constantine cast a deliberate look at the forest that stretched along both sides of the road. It was still half-dark under the canopy of trees and it felt like there wasn’t another soul for miles. “Observation of what?”
I came around the truck and shoved his shoulder gently to get him moving.
The thick stand of trees petered out a few feet back from the road, as I’d known it would, and gave way to an enormous field of marsh grass. The dirt path we’d been walking gave way to a high boardwalk that stretched over the marsh, and at the end of the boardwalk was a large, rectangular deck that floated like an island in a sea of grasses.
“What is this place?” Con’s voice was awed as he took in the sight. “It’s like a… alake, but with grass instead of water.”
“Mmhmm. This is Paston Marsh, the birdwatching paradise of New York. Or at least of Parsa.”
“God, my brother would love it here. Jules,” he added. “He’s the town veterinarian and he’s all about the nature shit.”
“His office is practically next door to the shop. I know who he is.” I set my coffee on the rough decking and spread out the blanket in one corner, then lowered myself down to sit with my back against the railing. “And you’re kind of right about the water. The Mud River empties here, so the ground’s really boggy.”
“The Mud River?” He turned to look at me, amused. “I can’t decide if that’s the best or worst name ever.”
“I didn’t name it, Constantine. Some mapmaker two hundred years ago did.”
“But couldn’t they call it something a little moreuplifting?”
“Maps, not known for theirpositivity. What use is a map that tells you what something shouldbe? Better to call a thing what itis.”
Con snorted. “Dear God. That’s the most Micah thing you’ve ever said.” I wanted to ask him to explain whatthatmeant, but he continued, “How’d you even find this place?”
I stretched my legs out in front of me. “I didn’t. Jonny—er, my grandmother’s lover—used to bring me here. I grew up in Baxter, not too far that way.” I pointed left, indicating a spot five miles past the horizon.
“Your grandmother’slover.” He came and took a seat near me, set the bag and his coffee in the center of the blanket, and copied my position, leaning against the railing near me, but he kept his knees bent and his sneakers flat on the deck. “Calling a thing what it is again?”
“I guess. That’s what she used to call him.Them. My grandmother didn’t believe humans were meant to be monogamous.” I took a sip of my coffee, trying not to notice how mouthwatering Con looked in the early morning light. “She was a free spirit. A hippy, more or less.”
“Seriously?Yourgrandmother was a hippy?”
I turned to look at him. “Could you not guess that from my playful, laid-back nature?” I rolled my eyes. “Thing was, she didn’t believe in other zany societal strictures either, like regular meals, or bedtime, or calling herGrandma, or not growing marijuana in our backyard and using it to barter with our neighbors. So I may have become a bitparticularabout things, thanks to MoonFlower.”
“MoonFlower.” Con digested this for a minute. “Must’ve been great when you were a teenager, though. No one to yell if you missed curfew or got caught drinking.”
I shrugged, thinking of coming home to find a new guy in the living room who’d be “staying with us for a while,” and wondering how we’d make the food stretch.
“You either become the person who raised you or you become the complete opposite, I guess. And we know which one I was. My little brother, on the other hand…” I shook my head. “Remind me to tell you that story someday.”
