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“Not usually, but…” I explain the situation as quickly as possible, pausing to let her get in a few “I knew it!” and “I am so right! I’m literally always right! I knew you were a spy! I just knew it!” before assuring her, “I’m out as soon as I smooth Rex and Wimpy’s feathers and get the evidence I need to prove they’re behind a catnapping and…a few other crimes.”
“Out of the CIA?” she asks. “Or out of the country?”
“Well, both, I guess,” I say, guilt prickling at the back of my neck again. “But I don’t have to leave right away. I can push my departure until after Christmas, like Mom wanted.”
Melissa makes a happy sound. “Oh, that would be so great, Matty. I get Chase for Christmas, since Ben got Thanksgiving. He’s old enough to really have a blast looking for Santa Claus in the woods and ripping open presents this year. I’d love to have you there to make memories with us.”
“Then, consider it done,” I say. “And don’t be so hard on yourself about the Aaron thing. I say, take your fun and joy where you can get it. You deserve it.”
She grumbles beneath her breath, but I can tell she’s weakening.
“He offered to come pick you up in his big rental truck and carry you safely over the floodwaters to his grandmother’s house for the night,” I wheedle. “That’s pretty sweet. And you might feel safer with other people around.”
“I feel perfectly safe,” she shoots back. “The Sweetwaters are on the other side of the flood from my property, I’m pretty sure I scared that Rex guy more than he scared me, and I sleep with a very dangerous submersible blender by my bed. The person foolish enough to mess with me in my home is going to end up with a shredded face and a profound sense of regret.”
“That’s my sis,” I say with a smile. “I’ve missed your feral side.”
“Don’t worry, it’s still here,” she says, a smile in her voice. “That’s why I didn’t even think about getting on that plane. I wasn’t about to leave you alone to face whatever it was you were facing with your better half thousands of miles away, even though I knew it would piss you off.”
I grunt. “I get it. I wish you’d left and put your safety first, but…I’d do the same thing if our positions were reversed. But please be extra careful for the next few days, okay? Not just watching your six, but with the flood, too. Are you sure you have enough supplies to get through the weekend and are okay with going it alone? If you pass on Aaron’s offer to come get you now, you might not get another chance for a while.”
“I’m sure. I’m fine,” she says. “I have everything I need and nothing I don’t—like more time with a mortal enemy who I accidentally had sex with, in a moment of weakness. I still love Nora, though, and you two should get back to banging as soon as possible. You’re perfect for each other.”
I don’t even ask how she knows. She always knows. Whether she’s legitimately psychic or this is just our twin connection, I’m not sure, but I’ve learned to accept that I can’t pull much over on my sister.
Apparently, not even the one secret I was so positive I’ve been so good at keeping…
“How long have you suspected?” I ask. “That I was working in intelligence?”
“Oh, a long time.” She sighs. “I had my suspicions not long after graduation, when I was headed to culinary school and my genius brother suddenly decided college wasn’t for him. But I started to really smell a rat about six years ago, when you kept disappearing on business trips that made zero sense for a professional handyman, stock car racer, jousting enthusiast, and jack-of-all-trades. You could have done a better job of covering your tracks, for sure.”
“No one else in the family suspected anything,” I say, a tad defensively.
“That’s because they’ve all given up on you reaching the potential they think you abandoned when you were eighteen,” she says bluntly. “I haven’t. I’m never going to give up on you, no matter what. Even if you leave the CIA and actually do become some kind of furry hippy who lives in a van by the sea halfway around the world.”
“I’ll come back,” I promise her, knowing that’s been her fear all along. “And you like furry hippies. You know you do.”
“I love them,” she says. “And I’ll become one with you someday. But let’s wait until we’re old and gray and our husband and wife are so sick of our shenanigans, they’ll be glad to get rid of us for a few months out of the year. And let’s always come home to the people who love us.”
She pulls in a breath, continuing in a softer voice, “Because love like this is special, Matty. I know you think our family is overbearing. I used to feel the same way sometimes, but that was before Mom came over every morning right after Ben left to drag me out of bed and brush my teeth if I needed her to, if I wasthatdepressed on a particular morning. Before Drew and Sarah Beth went out of their way to include me in their Sunday playground plans when they knew I was alone. Before Barrett started bringing me coffee at work on Friday afternoons to check in on me. And before you dropped whatever you were doing and rushed over to help me with toddler tantrums and bedtime monsters and whatever random home appliance I’d managed to break on a given day. We can’t do life alone, Matty. I mean, I guess we can, but it’s so much easier with people you love around to keep your head above water.”
Before I can reply, she lets out a soft bleating sound, “Oh, shit, speaking of head above water, I need to go grab my big flowerpots by the driveway, just in case the water gets that high. I’m sure I’ll kill all my plants next year, too, but at least I won’t have to buy new pots to do it. Love you. Call me if you need me and please stay safe.”
“Will do,” I promise and end the call.
Afterward, I stand in the bathroom, thinking about everything she said and wondering if maybe I’ve been wrong about needing to leave Bad Dog to find myself. Maybe the real me has been here all along, hiding in plain sight, and I just need to let down my walls and let the people I love show me I’m still the same person I was before all the secrets and my very unusual job.
And maybe Nora could be one of those people…
Because hell, I really like her. Maybe even more than like her.
I’m about to head back into the bedroom and show her just how much I treasure her company, when she lets out a shriek. Grabbing the closest possible weapon—a hairdryer on a shelf above the toilet—I run back into the room to find Nora hovering over a panting Clyde and a pink stain on the white duvet cover.
Nora looks up, her eyes wide. “I think Clyde’s dying! He just started moaning and bleeding!”
Glancing down at the cat’s round stomach, I’m struck by the prominence of Clyde’s pink nipples beneath his thinner stomach fur. And yes, both male and female cats have nipples, but Clyde also has a swollen pink area near his tail that clearly isn’t a wang.
Which means…
