Page 14 of Oddly Fine

“She should be here any minute. She’s in the car—on the phone with her parents,” Jackson replied and headed into the kitchen.

“I’ll go help,” Hayes said, giving Beckett’s upper arm a brief squeeze before following Jackson.

Maggie waited until Hayes was out of sight before whacking Beckett in the middle of the chest, somehow hitting the same place he’d been hit by their mother at the store opening.

“Ouch! What the fuck? Mom must be rubbing off on you!” He’d have a giant bruise there for sure, after Maggie and his mother got done with him.

“Serves you right! Why didn’t you tell me?” She bitched and frowned fiercely.

“Why would I have? I didn’t tell anyone!”

“Yeah but—it could have been our bonding moment! You confide your repressed sexuality to your sister, and I save the day by being your incredible support system!”

“Repressed sexuality? I’d never banged a dude until Hayes, if you must know. And I sure as hell never wanted to either—” He stuttered to a halt, suddenly realizing he was being too loud when discussing such—specifics.

“Really?” Maggie asked skeptically.

“Swear,” Beckett said, holding up three fingers in a mock Scout’s Honor.

“Then how—” Maggie began questioning him.

“Kind of a long story—I got shot and he—”

“You got shot!” His mother’s shrill voice interrupted his story as she came to an abrupt halt in the doorway, holding onto several cartons of Chinese takeout. She looked completely gobsmacked.

“I mean—” Beckett scrambled to cover his tracks. He’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to divulge too much when it came to his job. He needed to stick to generalities and steer clear of anything that sounded even remotely dangerous. She tended to freak out easily.

“It wasn’t that serious! Not like Hayes back in September. It was more the hitman after our asses that was a problem,” he explained hastily, striving for major damage control.

John appeared at the doorway in time to hear this newsflash. He paused and rubbed his cheeks briskly, muttering something about “give me strength” before sitting down at the table.

“Hayes got shot in September!” Cynthia exclaimed with a hand going up to her mouth, looking horrified. “Are you alright? Oh dear! And you’re lifting things!” she panicked, talking directly to Hayes as he walked into the dining room with a pitcher of water and some utensils.

Hayes stopped dead in his tracks, his panicked gaze met Beckett’s, seeking his guidance on what he should say. But Beckett didn’t offer up anything and just shrugged. So, Hayes figured he’d keep his explanation simple, which was sure to take care of the problem.

“I’m fine now. They got everything sorted in surgery,” Hayes said calmly, which did abso-fucking-lutely nothing to calm her down, unfortunately.

“Surgery?!” Cynthia cried out in alarm.

“Argh!” Maggie exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“How about we all—sit down and take a deep breath,” John suggested and heaved a put-upon sigh.

Cynthia pursed her lips in obvious displeasure and scrutinized Hayes from head to toe, as if searching for bullet holes, but finally relented and returned to arranging food on the table.

Just as they sat down to eat, Katerina rushed into the dining room and plopped down next to Jackson.

“Sorry to be late! What did I miss? Any eggrolls left?” She was talking about the food, but—

“Oh, nothing much,” Cynthia replied flatly, glaring at her youngest son. “Just that Beckett and Hayes are involved romantically, and they’ve both been shot this year!”

Katerina froze, eyebrows arched in surprise as she glanced back and forth between Cynthia and Beckett for several seconds. Then, with a casual shrug, and proving once again why she was Beckett’s favourite sister-in-law, she picked up her glass of wine to toast the happy couple.

“Well, alright! To boyfriends, bullets, and beautiful stores!” she declared with a bright smile.

Everyone promptly joined her in the toast. Glasses clanked together, as they smiled at one another while avoiding crossing arms, since many believed it caused bad luck.

“For the record—” Beckett said, leaning against Hayes, “this was definitely the wrong time to be sober.”