His fiancée, however, was more than happy to chat, and I soon found myself with a mimosa in hand, looking at all the artwork in the Neelys’ entry hall with Katie and Mrs. Neely.
“And this one, the bird,” she said when we were halfway down the hall. “It feels different than the others.”
“That’s my heron. It’s priceless,” Mrs. Neely said, picking up my hand. “This young lady’s grandmother painted it, and we miss her every single day. Don’t we?”
I smiled at up Mrs. Neely as she squeezed my hand. “Yes, we do.”
“Such an unusual color palette,” Katie remarked. “The eyes really jump out at you with those orange irises. They look as if they’re on fire.”
“That’s Mr. Legs,” I told her. “He’s an old tree-trunk sculpture in our yard.”
Mrs. Neely admired the painting. “I promised Kitty this would never leave our hallway as long as I lived. Oh, looks like the buffet is coming out. Let’s get our brunch on, ladies!”
We walked into the dining room, where silver buffet trays were steaming with wonderful scents—some kind of asparagus dish, a strata casserole. Hashbrowns cooked into little nests. More bacon than should be legal, and so much fruit. We helped ourselves to plates and made a line around a buffet table. I stood behind Seb and touched his hand when no one was paying attention, mouthing, “Are you okay?”
He nodded once, leaning back to plant a kiss on my forehead before hooking two fingers around mine.
Patty wolf-whistled from across the room, and some light laughter followed.
Seb just flashed his dimples and shrugged.
Fine. Guess weweredoing this in public, which made my heart flutter. When I glanced at serious-faced Captain Jansen, I hoped Seb wasn’t just trying to shove our relationship into his dad’s face to piss him off.
We all filled our plates while Sun Ra’s cosmic jazz played on the stereo. I was actually starving, having skipped dinner last night in favor of stale Doritos and gallons of water to replenish the metric ton of fluids we lost. Seb must’ve been hungry, as well, judging from his heaped plate when he sat down at the big table to my right, with Benny and Jaz to my left. And for most of brunch, everything was fine. Conversation flowed. The food was delicious. We had another mimosa. Benny left the table briefly and returned high as hell, making funny little comments under his breath that made Jazmine and I giggle.
Which was nice, honestly. I worried losing Lulu might make him sink into some mental quicksand—the same worry I had for Jazmine. They both seemed okay, all things considered.
All was well around the brunch table, until someone brought up the police in Haven Beach, and the topic of police reform rose. Not great brunch conversation when there’s multiple opinions at the table.
“Look,” Mr. Neely said when things started to get heated. “I know the sheriff, and he’s a good guy. I think he’s willing to ushersomechanges. I’m just saying that there need to bebigchanges. Their budget should be reevaluated, for one.”
“They need more money, not less,” Captain Jansen said, speaking up for the first time from the foot of the big table. “Morepolice to round up all the scum on the streets around here. This town has changed, and it’s not for the better. We have real criminals living here who kill, steal, assault people. There shouldn’t be a dime taken away from the police department until the entire Vanderburg family is behind bars.”
Oh shit.He was talking about Big Burg. All the Wags glanced at one another and fell silent.
Mr. Neely waved a dismissive hand. “Personally, I think US Marshals need to take care of Big Burg. That whole mess involves drug sales across state lines and into Canada, if rumors are true. It’s above the Haven Beach PD’s pay grade.”
“Can’t blame my father for feeling that way,” Seb told Mr. Neely. “He sees himself as a lake cop, so when you talk about slashing budgets, he gets defensive about his own job security.”
Flames sparked behind Captain Janson’s eyes. “And doesyourjob security depend on Mr. Neely feeling sorry for you? Still haven’t gotten around to growing up, have you?”
“Whoa,” Mr. Neely warned lightly. “Let’s keep it cool. Brunch is for loving, not fighting.”
But that didn’t quash anything.
“Mr. Neely,” Seb’s father said. “Respectfully, you shouldn’t be giving the boy handouts like this marina job. It’s undoing everything I tried to teach him about responsibility and everything he learned at boot camp, and I don’t appreciate it, if you want to know the truth.”
Angry lines tightened Seb’s face. Mr. Neely’s teddy bear demeanor fell away. He stared at Captain Jansen like he was about to flip over the dining table. His wife put a steadying hand on his arm.
You could feel electricity in the air. It was going to go real bad, real fast.
I knew one thing: if Nana were alive, she wouldn’t just sit here and stay silent. Guess all I could do was try to honor that.
“No,” I told his father, pointing a finger. “Thatcrossed the line. You don’t get a say about Seb’s choices. You abandoned your child when the going got rough, and now he’s grown up without you. He belongs to us now.We’rehis family. You forfeited that right.”
The captain looked stunned.
Seb’s eyes slid to my face, but he stayed quiet.
