“Yo, you gonna shoot me or something?” he asked, looking at Cotter.
“Cotter put your gun away,” Drew directed and sighed. Just what he needed. “What do you want Molson?”
Molson shut the door after himself. “Not to get shot would be a good start.”
“He put his gun away already so stop your whining,” Drew folded his arms. “Since when do you have a key?”
“Since you moved here and lent me yours, so I could bring stuff in,” Molson moved to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and fridge. “I made a copy at the local hardware store before I gave it back. Don’t you have any food here?”
“They keep eating it,” Drew had a sneaking suspicion that Molson had been helping himself to Drew’s kitchen throughout the years now that he knew the guy had a key. It would explain the times when Drew had run out of groceries sooner than when he thought he should. “Why don’t you bum food off Jana?”
“What? And get the ‘why don’t you do something useful with your life for a change’ lecture again? Followed closely by the ‘you’re setting a bad example for my kids’ routine?” Molson shook his head, grabbed a bowl and poured some cereal into it. “No thank you.”
“There’s no milk,” Drew remarked mildly. Jana did tend to lecture Molson a lot. It was part of why Drew refused to.
“I know it,” Molson ran the bowl under the faucet. “Just like how mom used to make it.”
Drew shuddered. He remembered soggy, gross cereal in the mornings when they didn’t have milk as a kid. It happened more often than not.
“That is just wrong,” Max spoke up from the couch. “Can you even eat cereal like that?”
“No,” Drew responded with a disgusted face as Molson took a huge spoonful and crunched it.
Molson shrugged and kept eating. He pointed the spoon at Max. “There’s a reward for him.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Drew growled.
“Cops starting a ransom thing?” Molson plopped himself into the armchair and slouched, munching away. “Pay too low? That one looks a little green to be holding a gun.”
Cotter frowned at the insult Molson gave him. “I’ve been with the force for five years now.”
“Hunh,” Molson nodded, self-satisfied with Cotter’s response. “Rookie on the narc team.”
“Who are you?” Max asked in fascination.
“Oh, nobody introduced me?” Molson pretended to look offended. “Really, bro. I thought you’d of told Mr. Ramesly, third of the legitimate Ramesly children, who we all were.”
Drew sighed. He was getting a headache. Molson did that to him. “Molson Colborne meet Max Ramesly. Max, meet Molson. We think David Ramesly might be his father but aren’t too certain of that. Margo didn’t really know.”
“Ma was going through a hard breakup at the time,” Molson explained with an unconcerned shrug. “She sought solace in a few places after Pop dumped her.”
“Then you could be another one of my brothers?” Max studied Molson with interest.
“I am,” Molson crunched his cereal. “I had a paternity test done. I’m from the old man. However interestingly enough, Jana is not.”
“What?” Drew frowned at this revelation. “How do you know this?”
“Remember when Jenny was going through that scare with leukemia? They thought she might need a donor?” Molson said.
“Jenny is Jana and Miguel’s first daughter. She was okay,” Drew remembered. “It wasn’t leukemia after all.”
“At the time, I thought I’d be a little proactive and see if Pops really was related to us all,” Molson shrugged. “Turns out he’s not Jana’s dad.”
“You going to tell her?” Drew asked.
“Why? What difference does it make?” Molson asked. “Not like Mom’s gonna remember who Jana’s real dad might be.”
“What are those tattoos on your neck? Do they mean something?” Max was getting more intrigued by this family the more he learned.
