“Yeah, that’s how we found out,” I answer.
“Cool.” Sparky grins. “At least something good came out of that gross situation.”
“The something good was none of us fathering that bitch’s brat,” Stash says.
“Well, that too.”
“All right.” I drum my knuckles against the table. “Any other questions?”
“Are we celebrating?” Sparky asks. “This seems like a cause to celebrate.”
Stash side-eyes his buddy. “When don’t you want to celebrate?”
Grinder and his wise-old smirk stick around after I dismiss everyone. “More brilliant commentary to share?” I ask as he approaches. “Don’t you have a pregnant fiancée to hover over?”
“Nah, I’m proud of you.” He glances at Murphy, then Teller, still sitting in their spots. “Guessing you all got things sorted?”
“More or less,” Murphy answers. “I’m staying put for now.”
I stop and stare at Murphy.
Had he considered leaving over this?
One of the doors flies open, smashing into the wall, and the question I wanted to ask is forgotten. Sparky’s eager face appears.
“Easy, Sparky,” I warn.
“Oops, sorry.” He glances at the door. “Are you coming? It’s party time. No more ruminating over the past.”
“Ruminating, huh?” Teller smirks. “Willow leave out her dictionary for you?”
“I’m going to ignore your hostility.” Sparky lifts his chin. “This is worthy of celebration.”
Marcel glances at me, relief tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it is.”
For the first time since we found out, it actually seems true.