McKay is making breakfast. Shirtless. Whistling. And this lifts my bad mood in an instant.
He looks over his shoulder at us and grins. “Indie is pissed.”
Maggie drops her fish on the counter, which makes McKay freak out. He grabs them quick and drops them into the sink. “No fish on the counter, missy.”
“I’m going to bed,” Maggie huffs. Then she disappears up the back staircase.
“Where is Indie?” I ask McKay.
“I think they’re out front.”
“How mad is she?”
“Pretty mad.” McKay plops some pancakes down on a plate and even though I already ate pancakes once this morning, I pick one up and shove it in my mouth. “You gotta stop doin’ this to her, Adam. I’m not gonna take her side, but I’m on her side. She’s right. You need to ask permission to take Maggie out of the house. Even if you don’t mean it, ask anyway.”
“Optics,” I say, still chewing.
“Exactly.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Still sleeping, I guess.”
“I’m gonna take a shower. I smell like fish and salt.” I pause here, waiting for his reaction. But he’s doing something on the stove so I add, “That’s your cue.”
McKay laughs. “I’ll be up in five.”
Of course, I bump into every person known to exist on the second floor. Nathan first. He’s standing in the doorway of Maggie’s room. Inside I can hear Indie talking in a low voice and Maggie whining in a loud one. “I’m tired,” she says. “Can’t we talk about this later?”
Nathan looks over his shoulder when I squeak a floorboard. Then he pulls Maggie’s bedroom door shut and turns to me.
I put up a hand as I pass him. “Not now, Nathan.”
He grabs me, forcing me to pause. “You need to stop. I get it, Adam. You were her whole world for four years. But she’s home now, and we’re here, and we are her actual parents.”
“Like I said.” I force myself to remain calm. “We can talk about this later.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. This is it, OK? Indie won’t care if you want to take Maggie fishing. Even if it’s in the middle of the night. But you need to ask her. And me.”
There’s another floorboard creak down the hallway and when I look, there’s Nick and Wendy. Watching. Nick starts coming towards me, so I shrug Nathan off and meet him halfway.
“Hey. We need to talk.”
I peek around Nick at Wendy, then look him in the eyes. “Yeah. Later.”
I don’t even give him a chance to object. And I don’t turn around when Nathan calls my name. I just slip into my bedroom and close the door.
There’s some leftover noise out there, but I tune it out as I take off my shirt and head towards the bathroom. I kick off my shoes, slip my shorts down and step into the shower. The hot water feels amazing. And this is a nice shower. The reno was a long time ago now, but a big walk-in shower tiled in a classic black and white marble pattern never goes out of style.
It’s funny how time passes when you’re not looking. It feels like we just moved in. Like we just got here. Like we’re still the “new people” in these parts. But the truth is, the people in church and at the donut shop in town know us. All of us. Two generations of us. We’re probably a regular topic of conversation. Those men out there with that little girl. And it’s still true, even though Indie grew up.
It’s like we’re repeating some kind of pattern.
The water runs down my back as I press both palms against the tiles, bow my head, and let the steam waft around my body like one of those snakes in the swamp.
Something is wrong and I want to know what it is, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
I think the problem is that it’s not just one thing.
It’s not just Donovan. Or Indie’s anger at me overstepping. It’s not Nick, or the fact that he didn’t have any idea we were brothers. It’s not that my father lied to me—what did I expect? And it’s not Wendy, even though my worry about her is building after Nick’s admission last night.
It’s all of that and more.
It’s a sinking feeling that I’m losing control. After all these years, all those balls I’ve been juggling are finally losing their rhythm. I’m about to drop one. Which one, though? Which problem will get me in the end?
“What are you doing?”
I look over my shoulder to find a naked McKay walking into the shower. And even though I have all this heavy-is-the-head-that-wears-the-crown bullshit running through my mind, it all goes away when I see him. Core McKay is nothing but cut muscles. He is simply perfect. He was leaner as a boy than I was. I always had a little more bulk to me than he did. But he works out so much, that boyish look he had disappeared before he even hit eighteen. I know his body. Even before we started this new side to us, I knew his body. We didn’t take showers together, but I’ve seen him naked hundreds of times over the years and he still makes me want to stare.