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Heading downstairs after a quick shower, the kitchen is buzzing with activity. I recognize a song by the Foo Fighters playing in the background, and Drew is making pancakes, by the smell of things. Mac is reading the newspaper at the dinner table, his glasses perched on his nose.
“You know when the article is coming out?” Hunter asks, leaning against the counter next to Drew, taking a sip from his cup.
“I talked to him a couple days ago. He said sometime next week,” Drew says, sounding proud. “Can’t believe we’re going to be in Rolling Stone.”
I hover in the living room, not knowing what to do or wanting to intrude. Jay walks through the front door holding a couple of grocery bags in his hands. “Hey kid,” he says in greeting, closing the door with his foot. “Want some breakfast?”
“Sure,” I mumble, following him into the open kitchen.
Hunter pulls a chair back for me.
“Thanks,” I say, and our eyes meet. The side of his mouth hikes up a little. Okay, that was kind of nice.
“Don’t mention it,” he drawls, carrying on with his conversation with Drew.
Drew hands him his pancakes and he immediately digs in, stuffing two in his mouth.
“Damn, Hunt,” Jay says, laughing. He puts away the groceries in the refrigerator, and hands me some yogurt without asking.
“I’m hungry,” Hunter mumbles, talking with his mouth full, eating the last bite of his pancake. “Burned a lot of calories because I almost ran someone over at the track,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“For the last time, I thought everyone was still asleep,” I reply, locking eyes with the troublemaker.
Jay clears his throat, and Hunter winks at me.
My father places a bowl of granola in front of me. “Here you go,” he says, giving Hunter the stink eye.
“You remember what I eat for breakfast?” I ask, looking at Jay.
“Jay, here,” Hunter begins, “loves to go on and on about…”
“Before you open that big fat mouth of yours, Cole, the kids are waiting,” Jay huffs, motioning with his chin to the door.
“And that’s our cue,” Hunter sighs dramatically. “See you guys later. Shorty,” he taunts, heading out to the porch with Drew on his tail.
“I’m going to Home Depot after I catch a wave,” Mac says, pushing back his chair. “Need anything, Jay?”
Jay fills a cup with hot, steaming coffee, and hands me one as well. “No, I think we’re good.”
Mac waves at us. “Later, kids,” he says before leaving the two of us alone.
“Did you sleep okay?” Jay asks, leaning awkwardly against the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, I did,” I tell him and finish my yogurt.
After a while Jay asks, “Ready for the tour?” He sounds a little nervous.
“Let’s do it.”
We finish our coffee in silence, and I follow him outside.
“Your place is different,” I say, while we slowly make our way to the track.
“The last time you were here we only had the trailer. The track came a couple months later, and the guys’ digs as well. I hope we’re not coming on too strong,” he says chuckling under his breath.
“Yeah, no, I didn’t mean…”
“I know. It’s all a little too picture-perfect with the white house, those plants, trees and shit. I even have a white picket fence leading up the road,” he says, shaking his head as if in disbelief.
