Page 43 of Inked Beasts

“Did it occur to you,” Thorn says, “that Mama didn’t seat Lexy with us exactly so she could avoid us making a scene?”

It hadn’t. That makes me mad all over again, makes me want to rebel like the teenager I haven’t been in years. But I rein it in, for Lexy’s sake.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go say a proper hello to Lexy and her mother before we eat.”

THORN

Our own family.

As strange as it sounds, as soon as Gage said it, I felt the rightness of it in my gut. Why should we have to give up the best thing that’s ever happened to us?

I’m distracted all through dinner, thinking about it. We guys have all got our own places, but we could live together. It’d take some doing, sure, but Thorn and I managed it growing up, and Gage practically lived with us, he was over so often. We could make it work.

Lexy, though. What would she think of this grand idea?

I get the feeling, sometimes, that the situation with the four of us is … not exactly a game for her, but not something she takes all that seriously, either. Like we’re a bit of fun she’s having on her way to bigger and better things.

I try to ignore that feeling, because I’m not sure it’s real and not just my insecurity talking. I’m not insecure normally, but the rules are different where Lexy’s concerned. The thought of losing her makes me feel hollowed out inside.

The thought that she doesn’t feel about me the way I do about her is a physical pain, like a jagged edge dragging itself across my soul.

I know it’s similar for Kai and Gage. Not that we’ve talked about it, but I know my own feelings, and I can guess at theirs with a high level of confidence. This is not a game, not for any of us. We’re enjoying the hell out of our time with her, of course, but it’s about so much more than pleasure.

“Are you all right, mijo?” my mother asks.

“Sí, mama.” I smile at her and drag my mind back to the meal. I can’t see Lexy from where I’m sitting, so at least I’m spared the effort of trying not to steal looks at her. Kai, across the table from me, is fighting that battle and losing.

My phone vibrates with the pattern that signals an urgent text. “Excuse me,” I say, and slip into the backyard to check it.

It’s my sous chef. That’s not good. The resort is serving meals today, and typically I would be there, but Clare gave me the day off. She’s gotten word that other restaurants are trying to lure me away, and letting me spend this holiday with family was likely part of her efforts to keep me happy at Belle Epoque. If only she knew that as long as Lexy’s working there, I won’t be going anywhere, no matter what I’m offered.

The sous chef wouldn’t be calling me unless it was serious. Sure enough, when I call her back, she tells me she’s sick, coughing and sneezing, and can’t safely be anywhere around food preparation.

I’ll have to call in one of the sous chefs from our backup list. Which means I’ll need to go in myself, because I’m ultimately responsible for what comes out of the resort’s kitchen, and while our substitutes are all competent, I still need to be there for consultation and a closer level of supervision than would ordinarily be necessary.

I go back inside and quietly explain to my parents what’s happened, and apologize for needing to leave early. They’re sorry, of course, but they understand.

Looking across the table, I meet my brother’s eyes. Kai looks like a pressure cooker ready to blow. I move around to stand behind him and Gage, lean down, and repeat the same explanation. Then I turn my head to Gage and mouth silently,Get him out of here.

Gage nods. Kai doesn’t look like he’ll last much longer without saying something he’ll regret later. Most of the time he can keep a lid on whatever emotions he’s got going on, but this is Lexy, and the more my brother wants something, the more his impatience can get the better of him.

I make my way past the extra tables, making a general announcement as I go that I’ve been called in to work, getting a collective sound of disappointment in response. I usually hang out with the younger cousins after dinner, playing games with them outside to burn off their energy and get them ready to crash when their parents take them home.

I catch Lexy’s eye briefly, and nod to her mother, but don’t stop to talk. As I make my way to my car, I send up a quick prayer that the evening doesn’t end in disaster.

GAGE

“Let’s start on the dishes,” I say to Kai. He always does better when he can keep busy; unless he’s working on a tattoo or some other kind of art, sitting still is not something he’s good at.

He pushes his chair back without a word, and we start collecting plates and loading the dishwasher, a Mother’s Day gift from Kai and Thorn a few years ago. Mrs. Sanchez still does the dishes by hand sometimes, but she loves having the dishwasher for big meals like this.

We quickly have enough for our first load, and get the machine going. I look around for something else to keep us occupied, and spy one of the uncles outside with a bunch of the younger kids. Nudging Kai, I say, “Doesn’t Juan like to watch the soccer games?”

Kai rolls his eyes at me. “Football, you mean. Or American football, if that’s all that’s on.”

“Whatever,” I say, just to piss him off and distract him from brooding about Lexy. “Let’s go relieve him so he can come in and watch tv.”

So we go outside and spend an hour with a bunch of wired-up kids, running them ragged. It’s a good workout. As the aunts and uncles start to collect the young cousins in preparation for leaving, Kai folds his arms and watches them go.

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