Page 72 of Feel It in the Air

“They’re headed down to Florida. Tizzy’s grandfather isn’t doing well, so they wanted to spend the holiday with him in case it’s…”

He doesn’t finish the thought, but he doesn’t need to. We all know where he’s going with it.

“Let us know if they need anything,” Auggie says. Anton nods a silent thanks.

“Pierce and Rose, the rest of the girls, so Em and Alice,” Hux continues. “Jace and Ewan.”

“Brenna, Brandt, and I will be there,” Milo adds.

“So if Douche Baggins shows, we’re at fifteen. Damn…” He starts to mutter silently, his mouth moving with no sound coming out, eyes shifting back and forth. “We might need a second bird.”

“With all the food Dolly usually makes? Doubt it,” Anton comments.

“Brenna’s makin’ a bunch of stuff as well,” Milo says.

“But meat?” Hux questions, as if that’s the only food that matters.

A preposterous statement if there ever was one. Because we all know what this holiday is about. The sides. And plenty of them. Most importantly, Dolly McLain’s sides. Because no one on this planet makes Southern side dishes like Dolly McLain.

That said, after a weekend of Cajun food whipped up by one Margeaux Finnegan, she might have a rival in the kitchen.

“Margeaux’s making boudin and jambalaya, so I wouldn’t go gettin’ another bird. I think we’re gonna have more than enough,” I tell him.

Hux nods, accepting my answer. The worry is still there, the two lines between his eyes visible even from across the table, but it’s starting to ease.

“Please tell me she’s making some of that veggie stuff that was in the fridge over the weekend,” Jace says. “The stuff with the corn and the peppers. That was killer.”

I laugh. “The maque choux?” He’s right, it was killer. I easily could have eaten my weight in it. In fact, I think Jace tried. “I can ask her to.”

“What now?” Auggie asks.

“Oh, Margeaux made this killer veggie⁠—”

“Margeaux? As in the new associate in legal?”

The room comes to a complete halt. The record scratches, time stopping as we all freeze, the question hanging in the air. I can’t tell if Jace stopped himself, realizing what he said, or if Auggie cut him off, but it doesn’t matter. Because the nerve gas is settling around us, asphyxiating the moment.

“Yes.”

My answer is simple. Straightforward. Borderline curt. There’s no use lying about it. Time to own up to it and take whatever is coming to me like a man.

Auggie nods. Single, solemn movement of his head, his features stony. It’s an expression I know well. That’s his I’m trying to compose myself face. It’s not an expression we saw often as children. It’s one we see even less of as adults. Memorable, nonetheless.

“Everyone out,” he commands.

Wordlessly, all seven of us push to our feet, grabbing our things to make our way to the door.

“Not you, August.”

Oh, shit…

I swallow hard, sitting my ass back down. The quiet shuffling around me feels like it takes forever, the spotlight on me, even though I know that everyone is doing their best not to look at me. It’s another long moment before Willa closes the door behind her, the catch of the latch the loudest thing I’ve heard in a long time. And that includes the sound of my heart clamoring in my chest right now, trying to escape.

I am in deep, deep shit.

My father doesn’t use my full name otherwise.

Inhaling deeply, Auggie places both palms face down on the table. For a second I wonder what he’s going to do—if he has some secret Jedi trick up his sleeve and is going to make the table levitate or split in two just by using the force radiating out of him. But then he looks up.