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“Come in for a minute,” John-Henry said. “Do you have time?”
“Our reservations—” Auggie began.
“Yes,” Theo said. He followed John-Henry deeper into the house. Auggie watched them; when John-Henry said something about Lana’s bag, Theo passed it over. Slowly. Like he was cutting off his own arm.
Emery stayed with Auggie, and he was watching too.
From farther back in the house came the swell of more voices, and after a moment, Auggie said, “Full house.”
Emery made a face.
“You’re coming with me,” Colt said. He appeared in the opening to the living room for a moment, Evie slung over one shoulder, where she was giggling uncontrollably. “We’ve got to make your lunch. First day of school tomorrow. Lana, you can be in charge of the snacks.”
“First day of school?” Auggie asked.
“First of the school year,” Emery clarified. “She’s got one more year before kindergarten; late birthday.”
“I love snacks,” Lana said, and she took Colt’s hand as he carried Evie toward the kitchen.
“He’s really good with kids,” Auggie said.
For a moment, the change in Emery’s expression was like watching sunlight catch glass. Then it was gone, and he scowled at Auggie. “Don’t you have a regular babysitter?”
“I heard that,” John-Henry called from the living room.
“I’m not objecting to watching Lana,” Emery shouted back. “I’m pointing out a logistical reality of parenthood. They should have an on-call babysitter who has been properly vetted.”
“We do,” Auggie said. “She got arrested. Cocaine. She sold all of Theo’s beard balm on eBay.”
For a moment, curiosity peaked in Emery’s expression. Then it flattened out. “I am surrounded by aspiring comedians.”
He turned and headed toward the living room.
“She was very good until she tried to harvest our organs,” Auggie said as he went after him.
As they reached the living room, Biscuit—presumably bored now without the girls to chase—rushed up toward Emery and began to bark at him. The scruffy little puppy was barely the size of a football, and Auggie grinned in spite of himself as the little thing locked her legs and began to tell Emery off.
Emery, being Emery, crouched and said, “Keep it up, and I’ll make you into a handbag.”
Biscuit whimpered and shot off into the kitchen, where she circled Colt’s ankles and darted dirty looks at Emery.
“She’s mad because you won’t let her sleep with me,” Colt said. He stood in the kitchen, visible through the opening that connected the two rooms, supervising Lana and Evie as they crammed a lunchbox full of goldfish packs.
“She’s a dog. She sleeps where dogs sleep, in her crate.”
“Dogs can sleep with people. I asked Dr. Leon. Dr. Leon, can’t dogs sleep with people?”
Until that point, Teancum Leon had escaped Auggie’s notice, which Auggie guessed was probably the idea. The wildlife vet, with his bushy hair and wild eyebrows, was hunkered down in an armchair, a book held in front of his face, obviously trying to pretend he hadn’t heard.
“When Dr. Leon is your father, he can decide which animals are allowed to piss and shit in your bed. How does that sound?”
“Actually, most animals wouldn’t—” Tean poked his head up above the book, and for a moment, Auggie was reminded of a wild animal testing the air. Then Tean ducked back out of sight.
“Hi, Tean,” Auggie said.
“Hello.”
“Is Jem around?”
