“Yes,” Colette said. “We’re so wonderful that Gemma's been hiding us from you. If I’d ever had a boyfriend like you, I'd have put him on a float and sent him down Main Street in a parade.”
“Let's not assume Gemma was the one hiding us from him,” Hugo said. “It's just as likely that Jude here was reluctant to meet us. If so, I get it, man.”
“Why would he be reluctant to meet us?” Colette asked.
“I can't imagine why,” Ronan whispered with faux innocence.
“I wasn't reluctant,” Jude replied smoothly. “In fact, I've been waiting for the chance to meet you.”
And with that brush, he'd painted himself as the good cop and Gemma as the bad cop who'd been withholding him from her family.
Her relations grumbled and shot her accusing looks.
She'd just been valiantly trying to rescue Jude from the NASCAR quicksand and he'd blithely thrown her under the bus! Her destructive mischievous streak reared its head and she heard herself saying, “When you were giving your bio earlier, Jude, you failed to mention how much you love collecting butterflies. Why don’t you tell them more about that?”
The group turned blank faces to his end of the table.
He gave a thin smile. “Not much to tell, really. It’s averysmall pastime of mine.”
“Not that small,” Gemma said. “One whole wall of his New York apartment is filled with glass-fronted display boxes of butterflies. You know, the boxes with the black velvet backs?”
A pause.
“How do you catch them?” Gracie wanted to know. “With a net?”
Gemma grinned at the mental picture of Jude leaping around in a meadow, butterfly catcher in hand.
“No,” Jude said, “not with a net.”
“Do you kill the butterflies?” Mom winced.
Jude shook his head. “I collect my specimens after they’re dead. I’m not someone who kills animals.”
“What about mosquitoes?” Stevie asked.
“And scorpions?” Gemma wondered.
“I haven't really found scorpions to be much of an issue in my life,” Jude answered.
“Lucky you,” Colette said.
“What?” Stevie said.
“How did you get interested in butterflies?” Hugo asked.
Everyone quieted.
“I got interested in butterflies through my mother. She's a big fan.”
“It doesn't seem a little creepy to you?” Colette asked. “To have a wall of dead insects in your apartment?”
“Did you pin the butterflies to the velvet yourself?” Stevie asked, blinking.
Jude set both palms on the table. “To be honest, I really don’t enjoy talking about myself. I would much rather spend the time we have learning about you.”
“We’re not very interesting,” Mom told him apologetically.
“In my eyes, you’re very interesting.” Then he began showing off the knowledge of her family members he'd gained when preparing for their operation. He knew that Gracie had lived in D.C. during World War Two. That Colette still made money as a poker player. That Mom was a gifted knitter. That Stevie had retired from a career in waste management administration. That Hugo played fantasy baseball. That Nicolas loved Vietnamese food. And that Ronan was getting a degree in video game design.
