Ty shook his head, mouth still hanging open as he tried to process. Clancy leaned over to catch his eye, even waving a hand at him. “Hi, Mama Grady! Ty’s checking his calendar to see if he can get away.”
“Don’t you lie to me, honey. He’s sitting there with his mouth hanging open, ain’t he?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Ty, if you come tonight, I’ll get your daddy to tell you all about it. Your brother and Livi’ll be here. It’ll be fun!”
“Fun does not start with a story about how you cut Dad’s finger off!” Ty said, laughing despite himself.
“It does in my book. He deserved it.”
The others gave up on etiquette and laughed raucously. Ty shot them all a glare, and he finally dropped what he was doing and picked up his phone. He caught sight of Zane coming back down the hall. His partner had been sullen and distracted for the last day or two, and though he knew Zane was having issues over that call from Texas, he had his own problems to deal with now. He spun around in his chair to put his back to his coworkers, trying to turn the speaker off.
“Does it have to be this weekend?”
“Honey, if you can’t come help, that’s okay.”
Ty rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Okay, Ma. I’ll leave after work and be there . . . I don’t know, a little before midnight.”
“Reverse psychology,” Fred Perrimore whispered.
“So that’s where Ty learned it,” Harry Lassiter said under his breath.
Mara either couldn’t hear them over the speaker that wouldn’t shut off or ignored them. “I’ll have pork chops waiting! And honey, will you bring that big sharp knife of yours with you? Your daddy’s is awful dull, and the whetstone went missing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ty said with trepidation.
“I’ll see you tonight! Bye-bye!” Mara said, then ended the call without waiting for more.
Ty stared at the phone as the display lit up, and then he looked at the others, who were all trying to keep straight faces.
“Can we come?” Alston said, grinning widely.
“No.”
“We’ll help!” Clancy said.
“No!”
“Spoilsport,” Perrimore muttered, and they all drifted away to leave Ty to finish his paperwork.
Zane sat against the edge of Ty’s desk, in the same place Alston had occupied. He was frowning and seemed distracted, but that was nothing new. He was just close enough that Ty could have used his knee as an armrest, and though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind when Alston had been sitting there, he almost did it now without thinking. He stopped himself just in time, making it look like a frustrated flop of his hand.
This wasn’t the first time they’d come close to getting too friendly in front of their coworkers, and it was happening more frequently. He didn’t know how to address the problem, or if he even wanted to.
“What’s up?” Zane asked.
Ty stared at him for a moment, trying to decide how to answer that simple question. He was still distracted by Zane’s proximity, by the way he smelled, by how easy it was becoming to slip in front of coworkers who were trained to see mistakes.
He gave Zane the bare-bones version of his call from home, and after Zane had stopped laughing, Ty tapped him on the knee.
“You heard anything about Texas? You thinking about heading down there?”
Zane shrugged, though his expression clouded over and he looked down at the carpet rather than meet Ty’s eyes. “I haven’t had a call back. I don’t see any reason to bother.”
Ty sighed. He wanted to poke at that soft spot and see why it was there, and he added that to his list of shit to do. But he had some pretty pressing problems of his own to handle first. “Want to go to West Virginia and risk life and limb with me?”
Zane smirked and gave a single nod. “Sounds like fun.”
Ty shouldered his overnight bag and walked through muggy mountain air across the gravel and up the porch steps to his parents’ house, stopping when he realized the rocking chair was occupied.
“Grandpa?”
“You’re an observant one, ain’t you, boy?” Chester Grady grumbled.
Ty smiled as he looked over his grandpa, sitting in his rocker, shovel in place over his lap. “Love you too.”
“Damn fool federal agent,” Chester mumbled as the screen door squeaked. “Where’s your damn fool partner?”
“He’s getting his damn fool bag out of the truck.” Ty slipped him a smuggled cigar as he bent to hug him. “What are you still doing up? I thought you old folks went down with the sun.”
Chester waved him off, grumbling and smirking. Headlights caught them as another car pulled up to the front of the house, and Chester’s eyes shone with mischief.
Ty turned to watch Deuce get out of the car, squinting past the headlights.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Deuce called back, sounding just as tired as Ty felt. He thumped up the steps, carrying a small overnight bag just like Ty’s. He greeted Chester with a hug, then turned to give Ty one as well. Ty hugged him tight. He nodded at the black Lexus in the driveway.
“Is that a new car?”
“Like it?”
“No.”
“Me either,” Deuce grunted with a curl of his lip. He turned toward the door.
Ty laughed as he followed. “Where’s Livi?”
“Morning sickness. We figured it was best for everyone if she stayed home.”
“Good plan.”
“Where’s Zane?”
“Wearing his invisible suit,” Zane called from the driveway. His shoes crunched on the gravel, and soon he materialized out of the darkness, joining them on the front porch with his bag.
They left Chester sitting on the porch and headed inside. Ty hadn’t been home since he’d been attacked by the mountain lion last fall, and he was surprised when a jitter of nerves ran through him. He’d been sure someone would figure out that he and Zane were so much more than partners, that he was gay—a revelation he’d feared since he was seventeen. He still feared it, even though he’d started wishing he could tell his family the truth. He would have to soon, before they found out on their own. Zane was too important to him to hide anymore.
He hadn’t told his mother Zane was coming, and while he wasn’t surprised that Deuce had inquired about his partner’s whereabouts, it did strike him as odd that Chester had done the same. Maybe they were already starting to figure things out on their own.
He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Hello?”
They heard footsteps from the back of the house, and soon Ty’s mother came around the corner and smiled brilliantly. “Come here and give your mama a hug before I have to go back outside.”
Ty and Deuce moved toward her, hugging her obediently. She had to stand on her tiptoes to put her arms around their necks, and she squeezed them both tightly. Ty couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you doing outside this time of night?” Deuce asked when he let her go.
“Zane,” Mara demanded, ignoring Deuce’s question and holding her arms out for a hug from Zane as well. Zane smiled and moved to obey. “You look better than the last time I saw you!” She pulled away from him and held him by his shoulders, looking up at him with a critical eye. “Such a handsome boy,” she said as she patted his cheek. She turned her eye to Ty again. “You could use some work. Come on.” She turned and headed toward the back door.
Ty huffed and followed. “What are you doing outside so late?” he repeated.
“Helping your daddy,” Mara shot over her shoulder.
Zane held out a hand toward Ty. “Want me to take the bags upstairs?”
“No. Wait, what? Hey, Ma!” Ty trailed after his mother, bag still over his shoulder. “What is he doing?”
“Cutting up the four-by-fours we got for the roof.”
“Oh hell,” Zane said under his breath as he followed the crazy train out the back door, reaching for the strap of Ty’s bag. Ty shrugged it off with a glance back at Zane, but his attention was on his mother.
They thumped down the steps in the dark and followed Mara around the corner of the house, where a pole stood in the middle of the yard. In the pool of light at its base were several stacks of tin roofing, wooden planks, crates, and Earl Grady with a large electric saw.
“Earl, the boys are here,” Mara announced.
“Boys,” Earl greeted without looking up.
“Hello, sir,” Ty and Deuce responded at the same time.
“Dad?” Ty knelt down so he could look his father in the eye.
“It wasn’t the whole finger,” Earl said before Ty could even ask. He held up his hand and displayed the heavy wrapping that was keeping his reattached pinkie connected.
“It’s dirty!” Mara said. “That’s it. We’re going inside.”
“But Mara—”
“That was the deal! Inside. Now!” Mara shouted, pointing at the house.
“How did you cut off your finger?” Deuce asked.
“I didn’t cut off anything,” Earl answered with a look at his wife.
“He’ll tell you when he gets inside.”
“But Ma,” Ty said, sounding almost exactly like Earl had a moment earlier.
“Inside!”
Grumbling, Ty turned, and the procession tromped into the house. They headed for the living room, and Ty threw himself onto the couch. Zane sat next to him with a little more dignity, but Ty could tell he was tense. Zane and Earl hadn’t hit it off the first time they’d met.
Mara pointed for Earl to sit in the nearby recliner, and he did so without protest.
“I’ll get the disinfectant and the gauze,” she announced as she left the room.
Deuce sat on the table in front of Earl, and he and Ty both watched their father out of the corner of their eyes, either trying to judge his mood or waiting for him to speak.
“So, Dad,” Ty finally tried, drawing the words out as he turned his shoulders toward Earl.
“It was an accident.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“Can’t help it, runs in the family. What happened?”
“Your mother cut my finger off with a set of garden shears. That’s what happened,” Earl answered, his tone neutral. Although, he did manage to make the word “mother” sound like a curse.
“Did you . . . deserve it?” Deuce asked shakily. Either he was afraid of asking the question, or he was trying not to laugh. Ty was inclined to think the latter.
“A little bit,” Earl said. “She was out there pruning that big ol’ gardenia bush, and I was trying to get the mulch under it just right as she did it.”
“So, you . . .”
“She told me to wait, that I was going to lose a finger.” Earl looked toward the kitchen and then back at Ty and Deuce. He snorted. “I asked her, did she think I was stupid? Then a couple snips later, whack. Off went the finger. And you know what that woman said to me? I said, ‘Mara, you cut my finger off.’ And your mother said to me, ‘Well, Earl, who’s stupid now?’”
Ty laughed out loud before he could stop himself. Deuce snorted and cleared his throat before giving up and grinning. Ty could picture the scene as if he had witnessed it himself, and he couldn’t seem to stop giggling.
“It’s not really all that funny,” Earl said, offended. Ty’s only response was to lower his head into both hands and laugh more. The more Earl protested, the harder Ty laughed. Soon he fell to his side against Zane’s arm and covered his face as he cackled.
“If it makes you feel better, Dad, we
were
worried,” Deuce said, though his voice wavered.
“Yeah, he looks it,” Earl said. He was watching Ty with what might have been affection, though.
“He does have personal experience with finger injuries.”
“That’s ’cause he’s a dumbass,” Earl said.
Ty howled as he pointed at his father. “That must run in the family too!”
Earl eased back into his chair and shook his head as Ty finally wound down and tried to catch his breath. “Good thing it wasn’t the whole hand. You’d ’a’ been in hysterics.”
That caused another peal of laughter. Deuce bit his lip and looked away so Earl wouldn’t see him grinning, and Ty could feel Zane chuckling against him.
Mara walked into the room carrying a basket of first aid gear and frowned at them. “He told you how it happened, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zane managed to say.
Ty cleared his throat and sat back up, fighting for a little decorum as he wiped at his eyes.
Mara sat down on the end of the couch near Earl and placed her basket on the floor, then gestured for Earl to give her his hand.
“Why don’t you let one of the boys do that?” Earl suggested as he held his hand away from her.
“You think I can’t doctor you after thirty-seven years of marriage?”
“You’re the one that cut it off in the first place!”
They were all still chuckling as they headed for the kitchen to eat the late dinner Mara had promised, leaving Mara and Earl to discuss things without an audience.