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Ellis had grinned, about to speak, until Tully—while making direct eye contact with Ellis—took the carving knife from the tray of roast chicken and put it beside his plate. A silent threat, but Ellis wisely chose not to make any jokes at our expense.
I didn’t have any siblings, or a close family for that matter, so I never had this... feeling. Sure, there was antagonism and snarkiness between them, but it was clear they all loved each other very much.
I envied them.
I envied them a great deal.
Though something else I noticed over the course of the evening was Tully’s behaviour toward me.
He sat with his hand on my thigh for most of dinner and I caught him looking at me, as if he was trying to figure out a complex equation in his head.
He was still very much himself, but something was different.
Maybe it was just that Rowan and Ellis were sitting opposite us, or that his parents were at either end of the table.
They never mentioned the media circus. Not to me, anyway. But I suspected his father had said something on the matter when they were fixing the glass panels on the balcony.
I was still grateful.
Then his father asked me when to expect Hazer’s pre-show. He’d been a boy during Cyclone Tracy, apparently. “I remember it all too well,” he said.
“As early as tomorrow evening,” I said. “The frontal system will bring the beginning of the storm. Rain, wind gusts, sea swells, as I’m sure with which you’re familiar. Hazer will likely be a two-day event, from the first rainfall, beginning to end. The cyclone is expected to touch down at 7:00 am the day after tomorrow. It’s difficult to predict its behavioural pattern once it crosses land, but we can make educated projections.” They all stared at me, and I tried to lighten the mood. “It’s not too late to leave. You’d only have to drive a hundred kilometres south, maybe two. I estimate Hazer will progress east once it hits land. The change of atmospheric pressure will cause the storm front to ride the warmer ocean winds, so effectively it will mow through the coastline toward the Gulf of Carpentaria. It should downgrade in intensity once it hits though, but if you do decide to leave, please take Tully with you. By force if necessary.” I looked at Tully and grimaced. I never should have opened my mouth. “I don’t believe it’s deemed kidnapping if it endeavours to save your life.”
Tully chuckled, his eyes warm, and his fingers slid over mine. On the table, in front of them all. “I’m not leaving you,” he said simply. “I told you that. And I’m pretty sure kidnapping is still kidnapping.”
I noticed Rowan’s eyes draw down to our joined hands, and when he glanced up, his focus was solely on Tully. A fond smile softened his features for a moment until Ellis nudged his elbow. “Told ya. He’s a goner.”
Tully shot him a glare and Mr Larson quickly grabbed the carving knife out of Tully’s reach. “So, Jeremiah,” Mr Larson said. “Hazer. What kind of name is that?”
“It’s an Arabic name, common in Malaysia and Indonesia,” I explained. “It means to be prepared, be ready.”
They were all staring at me again. “Well, if that’s not an omen,” Rowan said glumly. Then he sighed. “I should get going. I left Diah to do dinner and put the kids to bed.”
“I appreciate you being here,” Tully said. “Is your house boarded up?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll get Jeremiah to work tomorrow and come around to help whoever needs it,” he said.
I wanted to argue that I didn’t need him to escort me but thought that might be a conversation best left for when we were alone. And the truth was, I really had needed him today...
“We should all be going,” Mrs Larson said. “Ellis, help me clean this—”
“Please leave it. I’ll take care of it,” I offered. “It’s the least I can do.”
She grimaced, as if she wanted to argue but didn’t want to offend, and Tully laughed. “Mum, don’t argue with him. He’s feisty, and he knows really big words.”
I levelled a glare at him but it waned with the smile he aimed right at me.
“Gawd,” Ellis drawled as he stood up. “Someone save me. The sappiness is killing me.”
“Eat shit, nut sac,” Tully said.
“Boys,” their mother chided. She stood and we all got to our feet as well; then they made their way to the door.
When they were leaving, his mother had given Tully a kiss on the cheek and led him toward their car for a private conversation, I deduced. So, giving them some privacy, I went back inside and began cleaning up dinner.
I was washing up the few things that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher when he came back in. “Everything okay?” I asked.
