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“Holy shit, Sunshine, is it time to initiate Escape Protocol? You want me to take you to the train station so you can disappear into the night?”
She laughs, and it’s a sunshine sound, like the nickname I gave her after I met her the first time. Charlotte’s blonde and almost always beaming, like aray of sunshine.Get it? “No Escape Protocol necessary. Mason put the coffee beans on the second shelf, and I—” Even her defeat is a ray of light. Charlotte gestures at her belly. “I can’t. You know?”
“I’m honored to pick up the slack for your layabout husband. Where is he, anyway?”
Charlotte watches me get the bag of her decaf coffee beans with cute, blue-eyed envy. “I hope you know how lucky you are, being able to lean over the countertop like that.”
I wait until she has her hand on the coffee beans to lock eyes with her. “I will never take it for granted again. You have my word.”
She snorts, then bursts out laughing, which is the scene Mason walks into. My formerly brooding, uptight brother laughs without knowing what he’s laughing about. His green eyes light up because Charlotte’s laughing.
Mason goes to her and wraps his arms around her from behind so that his hands support her belly. “I love it when you laugh like that, sweet thing. What’s so funny?”
“Jameson,” Charlotte squeaks. The baby compresses her lungs a little, so she can’t get a full breath. When she’s laughing this hard, it has to be impossible. “Coffee beans.”
Mason nuzzles her neck with his nose, and my chest goes tight.
Voices approach the kitchen door. “—youcan’t,I’m just saying that a twelve-foot charcoal painting of Jesus playing a Nintendo Wii might not have the effect you’re going for,” Gabriel says as he steps in, Elise with her arm wrapped around his waist, two teenagers in tow.
“It’s a commentary on the juxtaposition between faith and modern life,” answers Nate with a perfectly straight face. He blinks at Gabriel, innocent. Gabriel found Nate in a dangerous situation by complete coincidence, which is why it’s so wild that he looks like one of us with his very similar dark hair. He doesn’t have our dad’s eyes, though. Dad’s, and ours, are all green. Nate’s are green with a silver-gray color around the pupils. I know, because he’s instigated more than one staring contest with me since he started living with Gabriel and attending family brunch.
Gabriel narrows his eyes. He’s about to break, to laugh until he cries, but he controls it.
Everybody watches.
Gabriel takes a deep breath, his shoulders lifting, then falling. “You’re full of shit.”
“Gabriel!” Elise’s sister Lydia says with a theatrical gasp. Lydia’s the same age as Nate, and she’s been living with Elise and Gabriel since last year, after Elise and Lydia’s dad died and their mom went to live with her sister. “How could you say that to him? You can’t pass judgment on a work of art without taking the time to, like, fullygrapplewith the—”
It’s Nate who cracks first, letting out a loudhathat dissolves into what sounds like a genuine belly laugh.
“See?” Gabriel says to Elise, who smiles up at him like he hung the moon and stars for her, then took them all down and rearranged them again when it wasn’t quite right. “He thinks I’ll fall for this every time. The Wii isn’t a modern game console. It’s not even in production.”
“But…” Nate wipes tears from his eyes. Lydia puts her hand on his elbow like she’s going to steady him. It takes less than five seconds for her face to go bright red, and she lets her hand slide casually to her side. “It’s better that way. Because the Wii isn’t in production, it’s—it’s waiting for its inevitable resurrection.”
Gabriel covers his face with both hands. “Does the goddamn thing have to be twelve feet tall?”
“The canvas is twelve feet tall, big guy. It would be weird to have a one-foot Jesus playing the Wii on a canvas that big.” Nate shrugs, but then he looks at Gabriel, his eyes slowly getting wide. “Unless…”
“No. Absolutely not. If you bring home a twelve-foot canvas with a one-foot charcoal drawing of Jesus playing the Wii on it, I will cut it down to size with kitchen scissors.”
Nate’s smile is so huge and gleeful that it hurts, in a strange, inexplicable way. “No, you wouldn’t.”
Gabriel curses under his breath. “No, I wouldn’t. But I’d send it to storage.”
“Good morning, Gabriel.” Mason’s loud on purpose, joking, having a wonderful time. “Elise. Lydia. Nate. I take it you’ve had some lively conversation on the way over.”
“This man is the enemy of artistic expression.” Nate points at Gabriel.
“This guy’s my favorite person in the entire world.” Gabriel points at Nate, the corner of his mouth quirking.
“Wow.” Elise shakes her head, her pout as fake as I’ve ever seen. “How can you pick him over me before we’ve even had brunch?”
Gabriel kisses her cheek. He’s smiling, so it has to be mostly teeth. “I’d never pick anyone over you.”
Nate puts both hands to his chest and lets out a fake sob.
Mason surveys his kitchen with bewildered amusement. “It’s official, Jameson. You’ve lost your place as the wild card of the family. Nate, you can have Jameson’s spot.”
