Page 57 of Trick of Light
“If he can handle Heather, he can handle anything. And I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. Heather is the best, but it takes a special guy to keep up with her. Your brother seems to be the one.”
“He’d better give me some tips on how to handle a podcast babe,” he said solemnly.
“Podcast babe?” She gave an astonished laugh. “Is that what we are to you?”
“Among a few other things. Do you hate it?” He eyed her cautiously.
Considering for a moment, she decided she did not hate it. “It’s cute. I have no problem with it.”
He looked relieved. “So I had an idea about dinner.”
Just on time, her stomach grumbled. “So long as it includes food, I’m in.”
“That’s good to hear, because my idea is a little out of the box. I made a reservation at The Cove”—hands down the most expensive restaurant in town—“but their first opening was in three hours, and I’m hungry now. What would you say to a walk to the harbor to meet the water taxi, on a route that passes several food trucks? We can snack our way to the dock and pick up that tea.”
“And still make it to The Cove?” she asked hopefully. “Being wined and dined is part of my love language.”
“Is it? Good to know. What else?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Mmmm. The flowers were good. Just generally being treated like the queen I am.”
“Yes ma’am.” He bowed his head as if she were in fact a literal queen. She didn’t mind it. “I’d never consider anything different. What else?”
“Respecting my parents.”
“Of course. What about siblings?”
“You can talk all the shit you want about them.” Gabby shot him a teasing smile. “Just so long as you can take it too. They will show no mercy.”
“You have more than just the police officer brother?”
“Another brother, and an older sister. I’m third in the lineup.”
“All the same parents, or are any of those steps?”
She cocked her head at him. “Same parents. Why do you ask?”
“Because my father has six kids with three different wives, none of whom are his current wife. I always wondered what a less complicated family would be like.”
She laughed at the comparison, which hadn’t occurred to her until now. “My parents were strict with us. We’d never get away with the stuff your family does. Once I shoplifted a lipstick and I had nightmares until I returned it. I’m just praying my family never finds out about my night in jail.”
“Who’s getting away with anything? Carson’s in jail, so is Fiona.”
Her heart sank. To her mind, accountability was still a long ways off, with no guaranteed result. But maybe he didn’t see it that way. They were his family members, after all.
“They’re in jail for now. But I’ve seen how things work. Rich people get better lawyers, better treatment. And then you add the fact that they’re white…” She shrugged. “I want to believe that justice is equal, but a lot of times it isn’t. We’ll see how it all pans out.”
They reached a neighborhood park with a falafel truck stationed next it. A small line of hungry people clustered around it. “Interested?” Barnaby asked.
“Sure.”
She started toward the truck, then paused when he touched her arm.
“I gotta say something first,” he said in a low voice.
“Okay…” She lifted her eyebrows at how serious he sounded.
“I just want to say that I get where you’re coming from. I know things aren’t as equal as they should be. I don’t always see it because of how I grew up. Rich white boy and all. So if I say something you think is off-base, I hope you’ll call me on it.”
