“You can cut the chicken.”
With an exaggerated groan, he slides off the stool and takes the gloves, cutting board, and knife I hand him. “Is this why Lake can actually cook a half-decent meal by himself now?”
“Yes.” I pause from where I’m cutting up some vegetables on my own cutting board. “They’re better than half decent.”
“You’re so whipped.”
“I saw you eating veggie sticks last month. And they weren’t even dipped in chocolate.”
“Touché.” He slips the gloves on and gets the first chicken breast ready for cutting. “I still have Zach right now because it’s an unplanned thing. But I know at some point, they’ll have an official deployment, and they’ll both be gone for months.” He sounds more vulnerable than I’m used to from him. “You’re alone; how are you dealing with it?”
His honesty deserves honesty in return. “I’m not.” He looks up in surprise, and I nod. “I’m overcompensating by working long hours. I’m getting the wedding as ready as I can so that when he comes home, he doesn’t have to worry about it. I spoke to afloristyesterday. Willingly. I calledthem.”
“Are we in some alternative universe?” he asks with a light laugh.
“I’m keeping busy. The nights are the hardest. I don’t know when he’s coming back, so I can’t count down, but I’m crossing off each day.”
Avery bites his lip, staring down at the chicken like it has the answers to all his questions, all his worries.
“When it happens, don’t forget we have spare rooms here. Lake likes it when you’re here, and even when he’s not, you can come over whenever you want.” He even has a key, so I don’t need to worry about being home.
“You’re a good guy.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Riley comes back in, arms wrapped around himself. “Everything is in the baskets. The washing machine is too complicated. There are a lot of buttons. I don’t know how to use it.”
“I’ll show you later. Come over here, you can finish chopping these vegetables.”
He looks like he wants to argue but then wordlessly crosses the room and takes over. Despite that, he takes it seriously, concentrating with intense focus.
Avery and I share a look and don’t say a word.
Later that night after Avery’s left, I get Riley set up with one of his games. Hades curls up next to him, like he’s been here with us his whole life.
“You want some ice cream?”
Riley hesitates again before answering. I don’t think that automatic response will go away for a while. “Sure.”
“You like mint choc chip?”
He nods. When I’m almost out of the room, he says, “Grady?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
He doesn’t say anything straightaway, and I wait with more patience than I usually have.
“Thank you.”
Coming from him, I know he means it. I doubt he’s had anyone in his corner since he lost his parents. He’ll learn that we’re here, and we aren’t going anywhere. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter twenty-four
Grady
Thenextweekdragson, like watching paint dry. Late nights at work are a thing of the past with Riley at home. I try to leave at a reasonable time to make him dinner and be there so that he knows I’m not abandoning him. He’s gone on a few wedding errands with me and at least pretended to be interested.
We’ve learned a lot about each other without Lake as the bridge that connects us, and his voice to fill the silence. Neither of us talks much, so it took a few days before we had a proper conversation. He’s still a brat with a smart mouth and a chip on his shoulder the size of the country, but he uses his manners, listens properly, and can follow instructions. He’s a smart kid, hejust needs to learn to use it for good, not for stealing shit. He’s allergic to chickpeas, which is an allergy I’ve never encountered before and an easy one to avoid. He likes sweet potatoes, hates peas—a weird dislike, but okay. He’s great at math, even likes it, which I don’t understand at all, though he’d be happy without English.
