Page 204 of Overcast

“And?”

Reagan mirrors innocence like I do a saint. She could throw a mask on as quickly as I could, but when it came to us—together—we could kiss our not spilling out our truths to each other to the birds.

“And nothing,” she retorts, buying herself some time by taking a generous sip of water.

“You’re doing that tone thing,” I accuse flatly.

“I have a lot of tones. A mom tone. A party planner tone. My normal tone. The tone I have when Wade and I—”

“Where is this going?” I upbraid. “Are we going to have girl talk or something because that’s Mills’s thing.”

“Aw, shit—” She tightly clenches her eyes closed and begins rubbing at her forehead. “—I’m sorry, Marty. I meant to text Mills and invite him over, but I made the mistake of texting you and—” She sighs then gestures to me. “—here you are. I couldn’t turn you away. My brother and all that shit.”

“Cute.”

“It’s a small reason why I married her.” Wade’s voice cuts through my limited tranquility as the sliding screen door leading to the backyard opens, followed by a burst of five-year-old.

“Uncle Marty!” Huck sprints around the kitchen island and slams his forty-some pound body into my side, wrapping his arms around my torso.

I couldn’t tell you what color shirt he’s wearing, but he was almost soaked in my beer.

Getting rid of said drink, I lift him under his arms and into my lap.

“Dude, where did you learn to run that fast?”

“Spiderman,” Huck promptly replies, craning his neck to look up at me. A pink and green substance is smeared over his upper lip, and he smells like watermelon. Then he removes his gluey palms on my forearm.

“You feel like Spiderman, man, you’re all sticky. What did you get into?”

“Daddy let me have ice cream,” he beams then bounces once in excitement. “Rainbow!”

“Then he spilled it all over my damn car,” Wade interjects, stepping behind my sister to place a chaste kiss on top of her head.

I smile—yo, I can’t help it. I never got to see the look on his face when he got home and spotted the bullet holes in his black Mercedes. I guess I could go through the surveillance tapes to get a kick and take my mind off shit.

“Yeah,” I surmise, rustling my nephew’s dark hair. “Your car has been through some shit.” Wade keeps his calm bullshit demeanor in front of his son—I can respect that—and hits me with a “I’m going to kill you look when he leaves”. “You still new at this dad thing, Lockwood?” I’m really pushing my luck here, but I need someone to be as upset as me because that makes sense, right? “My sister is pregnant again if you needed the reminder.”

My brother-in-law props himself and his Tom Ford suit on the back of Reagan’s chair before perking a brow. “Is the overwrought look a new thing for you, Shelton, because you look like shit.”

“Mommy,” Huck sings songs. “Daddy said a bad word.” Then he points at him accusingly, forming a smile that lifts my cheeks for the first time in days.

This kid is going to give him hell, and I’m so here for it.

“Dang, he did,” I gasp in mock shock. “Should we put him in a timeout?”

“Huck, go wash up,” Wade orders, jerking a thumb to the stairs. “Then, we need to go run to the office real quick.”

“Awww,” he whines, sliding down my legs. “I don’t wanna—”

“I got new post-it notes.”

“Yayyy!” Huck carelessly sprints for his room, taking the wood stairs like a mini elephant on his way to do his father’s bidding. While I’m down here watching him transform into his true self—an asshole.

And he wastes no time letting me have what he’s held in for a few weeks.

“Is this how you are when you’re heartbroken?” He purses his lips in amusement. “Because it’s not a good look for you. And the invoice for my car isn’t going to be so pretty either.”

Shoving his comment aside, I settle on, “I still stand by my statement of it making you look badass.”

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