“He has to do a lot of math and boring stuff to do the blowing up. The math is most of his job,” Decker says.
“But he never talks about that, so we banned him from talking about his job in public for at least like, five straight years,” Lucky tells Margie. “Maybe six or seven at this point.”
“He goesonandonandon,” Decker agrees.
“Because it’s fucking cool,” Jack says.
“I’ve sometimes wished I could blow up a few things some of my exes left behind,” Margie says.
“Oh, we have a potato gun for that,” Lucky says. “Anything you want to destroy, we shove it into a potato and launch it into the mountains.”
“Very cathartic,” Jack agrees.
“Until your neighbor gets pissed that you’re littering,” Decker says.
“Is your neighbor that far away, or is your potato gun a little… impotent?” Margie asks him, sending Lucky and Jack in howls.
“My neighbor’s that annoying,” is Decker’s only response, which makes Margie smile bigger.
“No girlfriends for any of you?” she asks.
“Jack’s fucking Switzerland, but he won’t tell us if that’s her real name or if she’s undercover,” Lucky reports.
Jack flips him off. “We took a vow of bachelorhood. All three of us. No real girlfriends.”
Margie’s brows go up, and I don’t think that’s an act. “Whoa. Really?”
The three brothers share a look, then all three shift their gazes to her.
“We don’t talk about this in public—” Lucky starts.
“And we’re not talking about it now,” Decker mutters.
“Think we should, bro.” Jack tilts his head at Margie. “She might be collateral damage.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Decker replies.
“Two against one here,” Lucky says. “We have to tell her. Jack’s right. It might’ve hit her too.”
I sit straighter.
Margie sits straighter. “Something genetic?” she says quietly.
All three of them shake their heads.
Lucky’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. Jack’s grim. Decker’s clearly annoyed.
“No, it’s not genetic,” Decker says.
“It’s a curse,” Lucky whispers.
“You met Sabrina?” Jack says. “She doesn’t even know about this.”
“She knows about this and does us the favor of not mentioning it anywhere,” Decker says.
Lucky sweeps a glance around the room and leans in closer. “But she doesn’t know it’s real.”
“You’re…cursed?” Margie whispers.
