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“Imagine I held my younger siblings at some point growing up. But not since then.”
“That’s sad, man,” Eddie said, shamelessly eavesdropping. “Got like a million babies ‘round here.”
“How’d you get stuck babysitting?” I asked as he added salt to the pasta water, making it boil faster.
“Dunno, man. Someone plopped him in the playard while I was getting something out of the garage fridge. Been with me since. You gonna remember your manners, or do I gotta introduce myself to your hunnie?”
“Right. Sorry. Siana, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Siana. Huck wanted the SUV back, and I thought I would teach Siana to shoot after lunch.”
“Oh, fun. How’s that house coming along?”
“We got a good chunk of it painted yesterday,” I told him as he mixed the pasta, then came around the island to take the baby from Siana, and then deposit him into a highchair, where he sprinkled some sort of cereal onto the tray to hold him over until the food was done. “Gonna prioritize the yard now. Get a fence up for Frida.”
“Frida,” Eddie repeated.
“My dog,” Siana said, reaching for her purse to produce her fancy new camera, then showing Eddie a picture.
“Shit, girl, that looks like a professional took it.”
I thought the same thing when she’d shown it to me. It was the kind of picture someone would pay someone else to take of their pet. She really had a knack for that.
I wondered if maybe she would be interested in pursuing that, if it had ever crossed her mind to make a living by continuing to take pictures, but of things other than her feet once her five-year plan was up.
Maybe I’d mention it.
“Oh, look at you,” she said, turning toward the macaw who was eyeing her from the top of his cage as she raised the camera to her face.
“Fuck you, Benny,” Mackie said, making Siana whip around to face me, lips parted comically.
“Yeah, he says that a lot. Almost exclusively, actually. Our best guess is his first owner really, really hated someone named Benny.”
“He’s so pretty.”
“Don’t let the pretty fool ya,” another voice said, coming in behind her. “He’ll bite the shit out of you, given the chance. Like a pretty woman that way,” Coast added, moving past Siana to snag an open, warm beer off the counter.
“Siana, this is Coast. Coast, Siana.”
“Sup?” he said, chugging the beer, then tossing it into the recycling bin before going to the fridge to grab a bottle of juice, pouring some into a sip cup, then filling the rest of it with water, before putting on the cap, and handing it to the baby.
“Is that his baby?” Siana asked in a whisper.
“The weird thing is… no,” I told her as Coast made his way out back, likely to take a dip in the pool.
“Weird, right, man?” Eddie asked, shaking his head as he strained the pasta. “Thinks vodka is a breakfast beverage, but somehow knows to dilute the baby’s juice. Alright, let’s eat,” he said, grabbing plates, then piling on food for Siana and I.
I noticed that he gave me significantly less pasta, and was reminded once again how much my eating had been off if Eddie wasn’t giving me a serving big enough to feed a small family, like he did for everyone else.
Eddie himself didn’t immediately join us, taking a moment to cut up pasta and chicken for the baby as Siana plowed through her food, letting out little moaning noises as she did so.
I was suddenly mad at myself for giving up my bedroom, because I wanted to pull her up there, and make her make those noises all over again.
But for me, not food.
“Why did you move out of here?” she asked afterward as I carried the gun case and led her toward the range. “The food alone is a reason to stay.”
“Want the truth?” I asked, making her look over, brows raised.
“Always.”
