"I know. I'm expressing appreciation." She takes the bag from me and sets it on the counter, already reaching for thebread knife. "Coffee's fresh. Vaughn's in the back with Tom's other boot situation."
"I heard a bit about the boot situation."
"Everyone within a three-house radius has heard about the boot situation." She hands me my mug. It's the dark blue one that lives on the second hook, the one that was never officially designated mine but has been functionally mine for long enough that no one touches it. "He's been out there for twenty minutes. I think he found a worm."
"Vaughn or Tom?"
"I'm genuinely not sure anymore."
I pour my coffee and lean against the counter and for a minute the kitchen gives me the simplest kind of comfort: the feeling of belonging somewhere without having to earn it.
Vaughn comes in through the back door with Tom on his shoulders and mud on his shoes, carrying the second rain boot in one hand with the expression of a man who has successfully concluded a diplomatic negotiation.
The second he notices me, he smiles. "You're early.”
"I'm exactly on time."
"You're always early, Val. You just call it on time." He lowers Tom to the floor, hands him the boot, steers him toward the hallway. "Boots by the door, bud."
Tom disappears as Vaughn pours himself coffee and leans against the opposite counter.
For a moment the three of us are just quiet together. Riley slicing bread. The radio low in the background. The distant thud of one rain boot being deposited with great ceremony somewhere near the front door.
This is the version of my life I don't talk about.
"You're distracted," Riley says, eyes curious as looks at me.
"I'm not,” I answer automatically.
“You are too,” she replies. “Vaughn has a bald patch on the side of his head.”
Vaughn pauses mid-sip. “Riley…”
My eyes snap to her, then to him. “No, he doesn't. What are you talking about?” I move straight up to him, eyes doing a quick search of his head.
Riley nods solemnly. “He and Tom were conducting a, uh,controlledexperiment in backyard science. There was a magnifying glass. And sunlight. And a very ambitious understanding of cause and effect.”
I see it now. A small, uneven patch near the side of his head. It's small enough to not immediately notice, but once you do, it's impossible to unsee.
I suck in air through my teeth. “Damn, Vaughn. That sucks.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t start.”
I look at him with mock-innocence. “Start what?”
“You know exactly what.”
I'm still staring at the patch, almost fascinated. “I actually think you’re being very brave about this.”
Riley presses her lips together, already losing the battle not to laugh.
Vaughn points at me with his coffee mug. “One word about male pattern baldness and I throw you out of my house.”
“I would never…” I pause. “Nah, that's a lie. I think you’re going to need a wig, man.”
He rolls his eyes. “There it is.”
Riley chuckles along with me. “Normally, with that keen eye of yours, you'd have caught that in seconds.”
