“So, back to the topic at hand.” This time, Shep narrowed his eyes and speared a potato wedge on his fork. The gesture, Everett was sure, was meant to be menacing, but he couldn’t take it seriously. While Shep was a little more solidly constructed than Jayne, he was still a hoodie-wearing, eye-rolling, sigh-addicted teenager. His potatoey threat was a sweet way to show he cared for his big brother, but it wasn’t about to deter Everett from sticking around. “Is it true that you’re Alex’s cousin?”
“Sort of.”
“‘Sort of’ isn’t going to cut it here.” Slowly, but aggressively, Shep ate the potato wedge while maintaining eye contact with Everett. “Either you are,” he said around a mouthful of mash, “or you aren’t.”
“Nope.” Everett portioned off another small piece of omelet with his fork and extended it toward Bo, who’d taken to staring at Everett’s plate with wolfishly hungry eyes. Bo leaned forward and closed his lips around the tines, then sat back. The piece of omelet had vanished. “‘Sort of’ works just fine. Alex is my cousin through marriage. My uncle is married to Alex’s uncle, which makes us sort-of cousins.”
Penelope, who’d finished eating her fruit slices and sucking on her sticky fingers, started to try to climb out of her high chair. Everett removed the plastic tray locking her in place, undid the clasps securing her to the chair, then placed her on his lap. She settled down.
“If I asked Alex about you, like, in general,” Shep continued, his tone suspicious. “What would he say?”
Jayne buried his head in his hand. “Shep,please,be nice?”
“It’s not a mean question, Jayne,” Shep shot back. “It’s not like I’m telling him to get lost or to S my D.”
“What’s that mean?” Bo asked.
“Sniff my dandelions,” Shep and Jayne said in unison.
Judging by their overly quick reply, the truth was definitely less floral and far more phallic.
“Everett is a nice guy,” Jayne said simply. He pushed a ball of honeydew melon around on his plate, tracking it through stray syrup left behind by the waffle he’d eaten earlier. “He’s buying you breakfast, isn’t he? Bad guys don’t do that.”
Like a snail pulling back into its shell, Shep set his fork down, sank back in his chair, and withdrew from the conversation. His irresolute gaze lingered on Everett for a long moment, then he murmured, “You said the same thing about Bastian once.”
The melon ball on Jayne’s plate came to a sudden stop. Jayne’s fork clinked as it met his plate, the sound catalyzing a silence that swept through the restaurant. Shep, more troubled than before, pulled up his hood and tugged on the drawstrings, shrinking his scope of the world. Conversation picked up again, but the moment stuck with Everett and made him uncomfortable.
What was going on?
Shep peeped at Jayne from inside his hoodie, his face twisted in a way that made it look like he might scream and cry at the same time. Jayne remained stoic, but Everett saw his hand tremble. Raw energy crackled between them, but Everett couldn’t decode its source any better than he could read Hanzi. All he knew was that something darker lurked behind Jayne’s levelheaded mask, and seeing him try so hard to contain it made Everett want to figure out what it was if only so he could make it better.
A sudden crash redirected everyone’s attention—Parker had knocked his empty bowl from his high chair onto the floor. The spoon clattered as it struck the ground, sliding across the tile until it hit the side of Everett’s shoe. Just like that, the energy was gone, but Everett still felt its aftershock. It resonated in his bones and lingered in his mind even as he picked up the spoon and placed it on the table.
There was more to Jayne than glitter and smoky eyeshadow, and Everett craved to know what it was.
“Parker,” Jayne said with a sigh. He climbed to his feet, picked up the bowl and set it on the table, then freed Parker from his high chair. “What have I told you about using words instead of actions?”
“Daaaa,” Parker cooed.
Jayne sighed again, but even as he did, he smiled. “I’m pretty sure that someone needs to have his diaper changed. While I’m gone, finish up breakfast, and then we can think about leaving. If Parker doesn’t get a nap in before two, he’s going to be cranky all afternoon.”
“How can I help?” Everett asked.
“Stay here and keep an eye on the kids,” Jayne replied. Then, in a slightly stiffer tone, he said, “Shep, can you grab the diaper bag and come help me in the bathroom?”
“I guess,” Shep grumbled. He grabbed the silver glitter diaper bag that Jayne had recovered from Alex and Laurence and slung it over his shoulder. Compared to his somber black hoodie and his dark-wash, distressed jeans, the pop of glitter was particularly striking. Once Shep had pushed his chair in, Jayne led the way to the bathroom, his stride quick and confident. It gave Shep just enough time to look over his shoulder and glare at Everett.
Bo tugged at Everett’s sleeve, but Everett couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Bo tugged at Everett’s sleeve again, then asked, “Uncle Ev-rhett, can I have more omelet, please?”
“Yeah, you can,” Everett said at last. He sectioned off another small piece from what was left of his omelet, stuck it with his fork, and extended it to Bo, but even as he did, his mind was on other, heavier thoughts.
11
Jayne
“Idon’t like him,” Shep said the moment Jayne locked the bathroom door. “Why is he being so nice to us? There’s no reason why anyone should want to drive us home and pay for our breakfast out of the blue. I don’t care if he’s Alex’s cousin—he’s suspicious.”
