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“That’s fair,” Remy murmured.
“I love you, you know that, Dad? You’re a great fucking dad.”
He heard Manon make one of her crying noises and felt his mom get close, but he didn’t tear his gaze off his father.
“I know that, Sah.”
“And a long time from now, when you die, it’s gonna fucking wreck me.”
He wasn’t standing a few feet away from his father anymore.
Suddenly, he was pressed up to his dad with his face in his dad’s neck, his father’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck and an arm curled around his back.
Remy’s voice was gruff when he said, “I know.”
Sabre’s voice was totally fucked up when he said, “Fuck those fuckers.”
“Son,” Remy murmured.
The dislocated shoulder.
The broken arm.
The concussion.
Shit.
Fuck.
He was gonna cry.
His dad helped him do it, holding him with his face shoved in his dad’s neck so no one would see.
The rest gave them time, but then they all piled on, because that was the Gastineau family, and they were in a group hug.
But Dad was the kind of dad he was.
So he kept Sabre’s face shoved in his neck.
Then his mom said something bossy, and his sister said something goofy, and Yves said he was going out to start up the grill (which meant he was hungry), and they all drifted away, leaving Sabre with Remy.
One thing he knew, right then, he couldn’t tell Dad about Myrna.
So he’d have to deal with that himself.
Somehow.
He pulled away, but Remy didn’t let him go too far, keeping his hand at Sah’s neck.
“Best son a man could ask for,” Remy whispered.
“I bet you were better.”
Remy’s lips thinned, and Sabre decided right then he needed to rein in the Gastineau/Byrne hothead they both gave him and learn when to keep his mouth shut.
“I just hate that was your life, Dad.”
“I got that, Sah. But none of what happened to me was near as bad as telling you all about it. Now it’s over. We’re gonna have tacos. We’re going to deal with what happens in New Orleans as a family. And when we come back, I’ll need to figure out a way to talk your mother into maintaining two houses. Because she’s never giving up that bathroom, closet or kitchen, and no way I’m giving up my wine and poker rooms. So we’re gonna have to be like Scottish royalty and spend summers in one house then go down the street a mile and spend winters in another.”
That was the first time in hours Sabre laughed.
Better, his dad laughed with him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yves nearly shouted.
“Baby, calm down,” Theo muttered.
Tacos were consumed. Mom and Manon had gone home. His dad had gone to bed. Yves had stayed and asked Theo over.
Now they were in Sabre’s room, which had its own full bath and a little space off it that had a wild, curved couch, a space-age curved chair and a seventy-inch flat screen.
Theo and Yves were sprawled on the couch, proving it was quality, since their combined bulk meant no couch could be seen and the thing hadn’t collapsed.
Sah was in the space-age chair.
They all had beers, and since Remy knew they were drinking, he’d given Theo a look and said, “You stay if you’ve had too much, but you sleep on the couch.”
Like either of those two would go there with Dad close by. They’d gone at each other when they got drunk when they were down in Tucson with Sah, and they were loud. And since they were the ones being loud, they had to know they were.
Now, he had to deal with Yves, who was usually so laidback, if he didn’t look like Dad and had come straight out of Mom, Sah would wonder if he was switched at birth.
But he’d forgotten that, if Yves got pissed, hell was paid.
“No, I’m not, and keep quiet, dude. Serious,” Sabre hissed. “We’re far from Dad, but he’s got dad hearing and you know it.”
Yves’s voice was lower when he asked, “She said Dad told her to abort a kid?”
“That and all the rest I told you, yeah,” Sabre confirmed. “Obviously, with Grandma dying, I gotta talk to Bill because I can’t tell Dad.”
“You can’t talk to Bill because he’d totally tell Dad,” Yves refuted.
“Not if I tell him Dad’s dealing with his mom dying,” Sabre returned.
“He will, Sah. Because she’s watching this house and that shit is creepy AF,” Yves shot back. “But her somehow figuring out your schedule and driving all the way down to Tucson to be outside your class?”
“Whole new level,” Theo chimed in.
“Bill will freak, and then Bill will tell Dad, and then Bill will be all over it,” Yves said.
“Okay then, until we get back from New Orleans, we have to keep Mom on radar,” Sabre declared.
“Word,” Theo agreed.
“I’ll keep track of Manon just in case Myrna loses another screw, but Dad can take care of himself. That woman can’t get near Mom. First, because she’s loopy as all fuck. But second, Dad would lose his mind if Myrna started fucking with Mom,” Sabre finished laying it out.
