“Go eat some chips and guacamole,” Anthony says. “I told you it’s homemade, right?”
Nico is already seated at the table, chair angled to face the yard and long legs stretched out in front of him. With his ankles crossed and hands resting on his stomach, it’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Nico Mackenzie. I grab the seat across from him and turn to face the yard as well, wanting to keep Parker in my direct line of sight.
“Sorry, got distracted before—how old is Drou?” I ask as I do indeed reach for the guacamole. I can smell it already and my stomach rumbles in response.
“Just over six months. He lives with friends of ours right now, until he’s at an age where he can go to obedience training.” He turns his face toward me, smiling a small, sad smile. “He’s a little too excitable to have here right now—doesn’t know not to run under our feet. Well, my feet.”
He sighs and sends a regretful look at Anthony’s broad back, as though he feels badly about being the reason the puppy can’t stay here. I look across the lawn, watching Parker run in circles and giggle as Drou follows behind, trying to catch his heels.
“I’m assuming you have him tonight for Parker’s benefit?” I ask, crunching into a chip and groaning. Holy shit, he wasn’t kidding about the guac. Nico nods. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Troy and Sam were probably eager for a break anyway. They’re considering fostering children, so I suppose a puppy is good practice.”
I snort and shake my head as Parker flops onto the grass, shrieking in delight when Drou pounces on him. Even from here I can hear the way the puppy is growling.
“I really appreciate it,” I tell him, eyes on Parker’s happy, glowing face. “You’ve made his day. Week, probably.”
“You might not be thanking me come Christmas when hestarts asking for a dog,” Nico says dryly and Anthony laughs as he walks behind me, skirting around the table to sit next to Nico.
“Food in about twenty minutes,” he says, collapsing back into his chair and touching his fingertips to Nico’s arm before reaching for the salsa.
“Thank you again,” I repeat, feeling like I’ve both said it too much and not nearly enough. I hadn’t expected anything near this level of care to be put into dinner. Nine-year-olds and tired uncles don’t exactly have refined palates—we would have been perfectly content with frozen chicken nuggets and chips.
Anthony waves his free hand, shooing away the thanks as he pops a chip into his mouth. Parker runs onto the deck in a clatter of heavy footsteps, and the scrabble of paws as Drou underestimates the stairs and stumbles. Panting, Parker comes to lean against me. Drou, also panting, puts his paws on my legs and stretches his neck toward the table, nose twitching. Gently, I push him down and rub the finer, soft hair on his head. I think of Jack again.
“Having fun?” I ask Parker, who reaches over to steal chips off my plate. Drou wanders over to Anthony, making his rounds and saying hello.
“Yeah. Can I have some of this?” he asks, pointing at the salsa.
“Of course.” I scoop some onto my plate, and dump some more chips on as well. He leans more heavily against me, and eats a couple chips. Drou wanders back over and makes another attempt at climbing onto the table.
“I like your dog, and your house,” Parker tells the others, thankfully swallowing his bite of chip and salsa before speaking.
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here to tire him out,” Anthony replies, reclined back in his chair and smiling cheerfully at Parker. “Dinner will be ready soon. You a chicken or a steak guy?”
Parker thinks about it for a second, chewing through another scoop of salsa. I replenish my plate.
“Both?” he responds carefully, glancing at me. I open my mouth to tell him he can have some of mine, but Nico beats me to it.
“You can have as much as you want,” Nico agrees and Parker smiles shyly at him, not quite as sure of Nico as he is with Anthony. I nudge him.
“Thanks,” he replies obediently, before turning to me. “Can Drou and I go play more?”
“Off you go.”
“Drou,” he calls. “Come on, Drou!”
He takes a running leap off the porch, looking behind just long enough to ensure the puppy is indeed following. I grimace at the ungainly way Drou clatters down the stairs before tearing across the grass in pursuit of Parker. Anthony laughs, rising to check the grill.
“He seems like a good kid,” he tells me as he passes and I smile proudly, even though I’ve had nothing at all to do with making him so.
“Yeah, his parents did a good job.”
“And you,” Nico adds. I shake my head.
“Video chatting was hard to set up sometimes with the time difference. Vic was so busy between working and being a mum…we’d always make plans to talk every week and then somehow go months without making it happen. I was barely around when he was growing up.”
“He’s still growing up, and you’re here now. When itmatters,” Nico adds gently. I smile at him, and take a too-big bite of guacamole.Way to ruin the mood, Desy, Vic says, laughing in my ear.
