Page 98 of Corkscrew You
“No!” Izzy’s arrived, with a tray. “Stay! We’ve got room.”
Shelby manages to elude my grip, and get up off my lap.
“I’ve got animals to feed,” she says.
“Can’t someone else do that?”
Ava’s here now. The room’s getting crowded.
Shelby glances at me, hesitant. “I suppose I could call Cam…?”
Right now, even mention of the Commando can’t kill my buzz.
“Stay,” I tell her. “Ask Cam to critter-sit. Come with me to see the Doc tomorrow morning. We can talk business on the way.”
Shelby looks for final confirmation from Ava. “Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”
“Mom would love it,” Ava replies. “And, frankly, who gives a fuck what Dad thinks? His behaviour this evening was unforgivable, and we owe you an apology.”
“Oh, no…” says Shelby. “No, I understand why he might have been upset.”
“The apology is forourbehaviour, too.”
Danny’s back. All my siblings in the one small room. I’m glad they’re here. Might even love them, the cretins.
“Our plan was stupid,” Danny continues. “We should never have made you party to it.”
“It wasmyplan,” I remind them. “And, yeah—” I reach out for Shelby’s hand “—I’m sorry. Dumb idea. Backfired spectacularly.”
She squeezes my hand in return.
“Worth a shot.” She smiles.
“OK, that’s settled.” Max flops down in an armchair and picks up the TV remote. “Any requests?”
Izzy puts down her tray, hands me a sandwich, filled with what looks like half a cow. Then she hands me a glass, which contains atinydrop of bourbon.
“Alcohol lowers your blood sugar,” she informs me. “You need to be careful.”
“Ialsoneed to be slightly drunk,” I reply. “So if you don’t mind…?”
“You’re a worse patient than Dad,” she mock grumps. But she fills the glass to a more acceptable level.
Shelby has stepped outside to phone Mountain Man. I’m guessing he rarely has social plans, so chances are high he’ll say yes.
Sure enough, Shelby comes in smiling. “Dylan will be thrilled,” she says.
“Who’s Dylan?” asks Ava, the nosy parker.
“My goose.”
Shelby accepts the invitation of my outstretched arm, and snuggles next to me on the couch.
“My nemesis,” I add. “That goose fucking hates me.”
“Nate, yourlanguage.”
Now,Mom’shere, with what looks like a cake. Did she bake one just now? I wouldn’t put it past her.
