“Holy fuck, what is your problem?” Noah made a face. “Did you forget to take your medication this morning?”
“Yeah, fresh outta bullshit pills, so fuckin’ watch it.”
“Junior,” Crybaby said flatly. “Chill. Think happy thoughts. Like pastry. Nice, delicious pastry. Okay?”
Though he was still visibly seething, Junior bit back what was probably the urge to curse some more and nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Ain’t the same, you know?”
“I know.” Crybaby almost sounded sympathetic. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
“You remember how he always used to argue about the sauce? Screamin’ about canned tomatoes were just as good as fresh ’cause his old grammy said so?” Junior’s anger was replaced by something Noah recognized immediately.
Mourning.
They must have been talking about that Jason Carbone guy, the one they were convinced Patrick had murdered.
“I do.” Crybaby’s smile appeared strained. `
“Gonna miss those pasta dinners. And you know.” Junior shrugged off what must have been a lot of pain. “The everything.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Noah could almost feel sorry for them losing someone that obviously meant a lot to them, but then he remembered why they were all here. Then he didn’t really care at all, and he hoped Junior dropped dead and Crybaby set herself on fire cooking her stupid food.
He crunched his apple loudly, disturbing the reminiscing.
Junior gave him a dirty look, but he didn’t say anything.
Crybaby flipped the omelet onto a plate and then went to tidy up the mess she’d made.
“You know, we have people to do that,” Noah said dryly.
“You mean youusedto have people to do that,” Crybaby corrected. “Remember?”
Noah scowled.
Right. Alistair had sent everybody away except Jamie and whoever.
“And even if there were people here to do that, I would still clean up after myself because I’m not a spoiled jerk,” Crybaby went on as she wiped down the counter.
“Ugh. Whatever.” Noah took one last bite from the apple and threw it at the trash can. He missed by a mile, and the core rolled over by the fridge.
“You gonna pick that up?” Junior demanded.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Noah found both Junior and Crybaby glaring at him, and he relented. “Fine! I’ll fuckin’ pick it up!” With an indignant groan, he stalked over to the apple core, picked it up, and chucked it into the trash can. “There! Happy?”
“Oh, wow. Yeah.” Junior snorted. “You’re a regular fuckin’ saint. Look at yous. Out here doin’ the Lord’s work, pickin’ up your own shit.”
“Whatever.”
“Yous a fuckin’ slob.”
“Back upstairs.” Crybaby smiled sweetly. “I think I’m gonna eat my omelet in front of you.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “You are a monster.”
“Thanks. Let’s go.”
“But I’m still hungry! All I found was a stupid apple!”
