Shepherd was the last one at the table to be served food like a child, and he accepted it with a nod and a murmur of thanks. The food was delicious. The scallops were soft and buttery, and the fish had a lemon and caper sauce that hewould have to talk to his chefs about. Not that they made fish at the pizza restaurant, but maybe they could sell this kind of sauce on the side as a dip or something. He’d bathe in it, if he could.
“Honestly, Ginny”—Brandy’s fork clanged against her plate—“mindset is everything, you know. And I understand you’re upset. I do. We all do. But you’re bringing the wrong kind of energy to this dinner. Being so negative is not going to help your mother.”
Ginny glared through her curtain of red hair. “Like you care about helping my mother.”
Brandy covered her heart. “I care about your mother because I care about you.”
“Bull. Shit.”
“Ginny,” her father warned. “Brandy’s always going on about this positive vibrational quantum … stuff. She’s giving you advice. She’s not trying to hurt you.”
Brandy held Bradley’s hand. “Thank you, honey. Iamtrying to help, Ginny. The last thing we want is for you to spiral out of control like you did a few months ago. Remember?”
There were chuckles around the table, mostly, Shepherd realized, from the stepkids. “Something funny?” he asked, his mouth once again moving before his brain had given it permission.
Dior and Dion looked at each other before looking at him, mirror images of serene innocence. “Excuse me?” Dior asked.
“No, I won’t. A lady is missing—and, by the way, you’re the two the police are interested in for that—and you’re sitting here, giggling, eating butter. I want to know what’s so funny. I think we could all use the laugh.”
The siblings didn’t respond, instead giving each other a sideways glance, their expressions mocking.
“Tell us the joke,” Shepherd said. “I want to hear it.”
Dion cleared his throat, stared down at his plate. Dior opted for twirling her hair around one finger, smiling lightly at Scarlett.
Ginny knocked on the table before standing, her shoulders back, her head high, her hair shining in the light of the gothicfixtures. She looked regal and beautiful and powerful. “You are all a bunch of bitches,” she said.
There was a round of gasps and a few more giggles. Elwin Kent split a roll in half with his bare hands. “Virginia. You’re excused.”
Ginny huffed. She looked to her dad for help, but he only shrugged. He did that a lot. Her brother wasn’t any help either; he just kept reaching for more stone crab claws. She turned on her heel and marched out of the room, muttering curses as she went.
Shepherd coughed awkwardly. “Well.”
The wax kept dropping. Vincent reached for another stone crab claw. There were only three left on the platter. Shepherd stood up, grabbed Ginny’s empty plate, and piled the remaining crab on top.
Vincent went, “Hhh!” because his mouth was full.
Then Shepherd did the same with the fish and the corn, leaving behind the carrots. He grabbed an entire basket of bread before nodding once at Elwin, glaring at the rest of them on his way out.
They really were a bunch of bitches.
TWENTY-FOUR
This was not the first time Shepherd had walked into a room unannounced and found Ginny talking to herself. This was not even the second time. But every time it happened, it worried him a little more.
“Ginny?”
She was pacing in front of herX-Filesposter, muttering under her breath. Her wild blue eyes landed on him for half a second, her ranting momentarily paused, before she turned heel and started again. The only words he could really make out sounded an awful lot like “bleed” and “blood” and “plague”—really, it was no wonder she and Lex got along so well.
“Sweetheart, I think you need to eat something.” He stood in front of her with his offerings, jiggling the basket under her nose. “At least, so your brother doesn’t get it, eh?”
“I hate him, Shepherd!” She snatched a roll from the basket and tore it in half.
Shepherd nodded in agreement.
“I hate all of them!” She grabbed a piece of fish off the plate and shoved in between the pieces of bread. Then she stood there, in front of Mulder and Scully, and inhaled her makeshift fish sandwich. Like Lex’s half-brother’s snake that had been in his restaurant, Ginny just unhinged her jaw and devoured it.
“OK.” Shepherd set the food down on her desk and tried not to think about the sandwich or snakes. “We can leave whenever you want. I’ve got my keys.”
