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“I really didn’t know there was an earlier one,” I said to her, causing a few sighs.
Malik grinned. “No one thinks it’s a weak question now, huh?”
“Did you know Eli owns a Black 1965 Aston Martin DB5 Vantage Convertible?” Guinevere asked, trying to save me.
All the guys looked to her.
“No way.”
“I took a picture.” She sang happily and tried to get her cell phone.
“No phones at the dinner table,” her mother said.
“It’s a 1965 Aston Martin,” Malik said to the older woman.
“Mrs. Poe, it’s James Bond’s car,” Jeremy added.
“No phones at my dinner table,” she repeated sternly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” they both said.
I chuckeled
.
For the most part, Guinevere kept them entertained with her stories from the city, everything from randomly dancing on subway platforms to local musicians, the mural she had painted, and even her failed attempt to run. I noticed she spoke with her hands when she told her stories, as if she was trying to paint a picture in the air. Every once in a while, she would shift her hair to the side, shoot me a small smile, and then focus back on the men around her. When she stood up to clear the plates with her mother, so did I, taking them from her.
“It’s fine, I got it. Finish your story,” I said, following her mother.
“I’ll admit it, City Slicker is pretty smooth.” Malik whistled.
“Keep talking, Malik. I will get you back, I promise,” Guinevere threatened him.
“I’m an officer of the law now, Gwen. I’m not scared of you—”
“Is filling your truck with spiders against the law?”
I looked back as as I put the plates in the sink; she and the rest of them just laughed at his horrified facial expression.
“Aren’t we a little old for pranks like that?”
“Said the man who’s ‘not scared,’” Roy muttered, drinking his water.
“Like giant children, aren’t they?” her mother whispered, shaking her head.
“Don’t we all kind of revert to giant children when we’re around our siblings? As mature as I hope I am, I still enjoy messing with and teasing my little brother,” I said as I rinsed the dishes.
“So they don’t make you nervous?” Her eyebrow rose.
“Not at all.” They were at least talking. My eyes shifted to her father sitting at the head of the table, listening to his daughter.
“I got it, thank you, Eli. You can head back to the table.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Besides, once you sit, Guinevere will come over and the boys will go for some fresh air on the lake. Good luck.” She winked at me.
I wanted to know if she was in my corner or not, but figured I’d just have to wait and see. Sure enough, when I headed back, Guinevere got up to help her mother.
