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“Damon.”
Mom made a snoring sound.
“Okay, okay, let me think. Lucas.”
Mom frowned. “Why would your Alpha be calling your dad?”
Lucia shrugged.
“Nope, you aren’t getting off that easy. Why?” she asked again.
Lucia rolled her eyes and set her rib bone down on the plate of empties. “The Crew has been complaining. They’re all worried about me or something. It’s so stupid. I’m fine.”
Mom stared at her. She stopped cutting up her brisket and leaned her elbows on the table, clasped her hands in front of her mouth. “What’s going on? If they’re worried, it means you’re being distant.”
“I’m always distant,” Lucia mumbled.
“Exactly. Lucas and the Crew will be desensitized to how you are to an extent, but if they’re worried, it means you are being abnormally distant. Spill it.”
Lucia sighed and reached for her drink before she said, “The visions just make me tired sometimes, is all. It’s easier to be alone, so I’ve been staying at the cabin. Who called for Dad?”
A smile cracked Mom’s face behind her hands. She forked a piece of brisket with a pickle slice into her maw, then around the bite, she said, “Clinton.”
Lucia had been sucking down the contents of a glass bottle of orange soda, and nearly choked on it. She had a coughing fit as Mom pursed her lips against a smile. “That’s what I thought,” Mom said.
“What’s what you thought?”
“Clinton told me some interesting stuff.”
Lucia coughed again, then cleared her throat and rearranged her face to nonchalant. “Why would I care about whatever weird shit Clinton says to you? He pees in peoples’ yards. On purpose.”
“Or on pur-piss,” Mom joked.
“Terrible mom-joke.”
“Don’t say ‘shit’. It’s unladylike.”
“You just said it,” Lucia pointed out.
Ignoring her callout, Mom said, “Clinton said one of his sons came over yesterday and helped him pull rosebushes out of Kirk’s front yard. Now, when I asked which son, he got real tight-lipped, so I waited for him to spill whatever he was going to say, because those Fuller boys will get to their point eventually if you just let them sit in silence. So I waited, and then Clinton got angry and said he wanted to talk to Beaston. I told him he wasn’t around, and asked why didn’t he just call Beaston’s phone. He said, and I quote, ‘Because that motherfucker blocked me.’”
Lucia cackled a weird-sounding laugh. Good on Dad.
“And then he said he needed to get Beaston a message. I asked him what message, and he said something very interesting.”
Lucia slowly spun one of the rib bones on her plate. Okay, she had to take the bait. “What did he say?”
“He said…” Mom arched an eyebrow high. “He would be open to wearing matching tuxedos with Beaston to the wedding, but only if Beaston agreed to wear light blue and orange, like that movie Dumb and Dumber.”
“What. The. Fuck?”
“Language.”
All right, so Landon must’ve been the son who went to do vandalism with Clinton yesterday, and he must’ve mentioned their date. “What did you say back?” Lucia asked.
“I asked if he was on mushrooms.”
Lucia snorted. “Maybe he was.”
