Page 35 of Angel's Share

“You almost done, traitor?” Aidan called back, as he continued to mash potatoes and cabbage into the simmering cream, garlic, and leeks.

“Five minutes or so, dear.”

Smiling, Aidan glanced up in time to see Angel step beside Jamie, tablet in hand. “Can we make this mod?”

“Good idea,” Jamie said with a nod. “Make it lighter and faster.”

“That was my thought.”

“Yeah, I think we can do that.”

“Cool.” Angel went back to tapping the tablet screen as he sank onto the outdoor sofa beside his mother.

Aidan, however, was stuck back on Angel’s “we.” He couldn’t help but smile wider at the implication, whether it was intentional or not.

“I see you,” Bev sing-songed as she moved around the kitchen, pulling plates out of the cabinets and silverware from the drawers.

He let his smile grow wider; no use hiding it. “I missed him.”

“He missed you too. He also misses having family around.”

“So he made one at school?” Aidan asked, recalling his and Jamie’s conversation with Izzy yesterday.

“Yeah, he did, but when he started hanging out with me, some of his friends ghosted him. Thought we were together, and so he wasn’t ‘really gay.’” Aidan expected her to roll her eyes at the ignorance of their friends, but instead, she rested back against the island, chin lowered. “I feel bad about it.”

“Angel made his choice.” Aidan set aside the potato masher and dipped his own chin low enough to catch her gaze. “And so far, it seems like a good one to me.”

She glanced up at him through her lashes, and there was the spark of rebel he expected. “Except that whole theft and speeding thing.” She cut her glare outside to where Angel was at Jamie’s side, excitedly asking about another engine mod. “That’s not gonna help the speeding,” she said.

Aidan laughed. “Probably not.” He slid a spoon from Bev’s grip and dipped it into the potato pot. “Try it,” he said, offering her the spoon in exchange for the plates. Aidan wished he’d recorded the reactions that played across her face. From maybe-not-so-bad to eww-why to I-found-another-bit-of-buttery-goodness.

“It’s not as bad as I expected,” she admitted. “But the slimy cabbage is gonna take some getting used to.”

Aidan liked the sound of that as much as he liked Angel’s “we.” Both kids were assuming Aidan and Jamie would remain in their lives after this case was over, which was more than Aidan dared hope for, more than he would’ve thought possible if you’d asked him Saturday how things would go. Letting his smile loose again, he pitched the spoon in the sink and grabbed a serving bowl for the potatoes while Bev set the table. Expertly. Not something Aidan could imagine her doing at Deidra’s. A foster before, or her parents, maybe? Or was this another Internet thing? In any event, not his place to ask something that personal. Yet. He kept things more general, for now. “How are you doing with everything?” he asked. “Feeling less damsel-like?”

“Gucci, for now.” She came back to the kitchen for the spoon she was short. “I’m sure it’ll all hit in a few days, but right now, it’s kind of surreal. To get out of that place and land at a boujee one like this.” She waved the utensil in the air, gesturing around them. “And you and Jamie seem like decent folk, even if you both work too much.”

“Not gonna deny that,” he said, acknowledging her correct perception about them. “And Bev...” He waited for her to glance up before he acknowledged the likely correct prediction she’d also made about herself. “When it does hit, talk to one of us, or to Izzy, or to your new social worker.”

“I trust y’all more than I do him,” she said as she rose on her tiptoes to grab glasses out of the cabinet over the microwave.

She managed to get down four, and Aidan grabbed the fifth. “Jamie’s running background checks. Rooster too.”

“He so looks like a Rooster. Not as mean as I thought one would be, but the hair and the suit and the strut.” She mimicked the prosecutor’s walk as she carried the glasses to the table, and Aidan laughed out loud, drawing Jamie’s attention.

Y’all good? he mouthed. His blue eyes sparkled under the balcony string lights, and his smile was wide and easy. Despite the chaos still circling around them, he was helping to center them all, insisting on a “family” dinner at the home they were borrowing tonight.

Better than, he mouthed back with a wink.

Bev groaned. “How long have y’all been married?”

“Five years, very happily. And that’s twice you’ve used y’all,” he said to Bev as he carried the potatoes over to the table. “But there’s no accent when you say it.”

“I like it. It’s more gender neutral.”

“Agree, but most folks have to train themselves to use it.” Aidan would often notice a pause, no matter how short, as a person mentally made the switch before saying it. Granted, kids adapted to changes in language and customs more quickly than adults, but Aidan didn’t think that was all here. “It comes more naturally to you, like it does Jamie, who grew up in North Carolina.”

Bev lowered herself into one of the dining room chairs, quiet, and Aidan immediately regretted the topic, realizing maybe this was a step too far. “Bev, you don’t have to?—”

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