Page 68 of The Tendy


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Swallow instead of gulping like owls that would make Owlfonso proud.

Nibbling away on the surprisingly veggie heavy meal is done alongside listening to the show and pausing to explain plot points to each of them due to the fact neither wanted to start at the very beginning.

Laughter and gasps and over the top responses continuously glide around the living room as if this is something we do every night.

Will do.

Thayne repeatedly checks on our needs, anxious to make sure Bronny and I have enough, that mine is warm enough, that the first-time recipe came out alright, prompting me to ceaselessly smile over his worrying.

It’s cute.

Cute AF.

Post reassuring that me barely finishing my one plate was about fullness versus flavor, my dish is taken back to the kitchen when he retreats to refill his.

Just as Jukes heads back to me, Bronny surprisingly shouts, “Whhhaaaattttt!!!!That’s not their real dad?!” An over-acted head explosion gesture is made. “GASP!”

“Would it kill ya not to talk in SNAP?” Thayne pokes during his descent into the space beside me.

“I’d talk out loud in emojis if I could.”

“Wouldn’t that just be making facial expressions?” I playfully point out.

“Yeah, the young kids don’t do that,” my sexy gray sweats wearing man chuckles under his breath. “Theysaythe word because apparently doin’ it is too hard or complicated.”

“Too ancient,” corrects Bronny prior to dropping his empty plate on the coffee table between us. “No offense, Gilly.”

“Maybe a molar’s worth taken.”

Chuckles escape them both, but it’s Thayne that ponders, “You a daddy’s girl?”

“Uh…” my head bounces back in forth in contemplation, “no?”

“Mama’s girl?”

The action is thoughtlessly repeated. “No?”

“Question mark?” Bronny tosses over in my direction at the same time he presses pause.

“Alright, so, you don’t evenaskshit anymore?” his brother laughs in disbelief. “You jus’ throw out punctation?”

“Eye roll emoji.”

“I will throw this slice of avocado at you,” Thayne threatens alongside flashing the food.

“I was more of a Big Daddy type of girl,” I announce, drawing both of their stares. “He was my mom’s dad. Sweet. Southern. Blues musician. Had a whole Howlin’ Wolf meets B.B. King vibe that kept him on the road and his instrumentnotin his case.” The executed wink adds to the implication I’m trying not to flat out say. “And while he wasn’t around steadily or predictably, when hewasaround, he saw me. Likeactualme.” Wistfulness can’t be kept out of my tone. “You know everyone else saw M and what he could do and what barriers he could break and how far he could go and believed he would go but…Big Daddy sawme.Pulled me away from just being another face to support my brother and taught me about different types ofmusic. Pushed me to hear them all. Encouraged me to do little things on my own. Read the book that I thought was too big for me. Wear the lime green rain boots in 100-degree heat. Eat dessert first because dinner may suck.”

Both guys laugh louder.

Warmer.

“While everyone else was focused on M…he was always focused onme.Telling me to be a star no matter what sky I decide to shine in.” I swallow the lump of tears that clumps together in my throat whenever I bring him up. “He died when I was nine, and now that I think about it…I guess so did that reminder to be seen.” An unstoppable urge to be truly heard has me finding Thayne’s stare again. “Until you.”

This time it’s him that’s trying to choke back his emotions. “I’ll always be the one that sees you, Gillian.”

“Even better if you buy her some lime green boots,” teasingly interjects the teen.

“I’ll buy you a matchin’ pair, aye,” Jukes jeers back, abandoning his almost empty plate onto the same table.