Ella: You’re so dirty!!
Her mock scolding makes me grin.
Zander: Be good, I’ll be watching you.
I putmy phone in my pocket while Damon fills me in on his drive. We set up the card table with two decks. I’ve been back here more often over the past months ordering furniture, making necessary arrangements and debating on whether Ella would be comfortable here or not. It’s starting to feel like home again, like my old place I rented, though I’m beginning to think it will never feel completely right without Ella.
With my mind occupied, Damon moves on to other topics. We’re setting out a heaping bowl of chips when Damon asks beneath his breath, “You find anything else?”
“Anything about what?’ I ask him.
“About Ella’s father.”
“Yeah.” I’ve been doing more research on Ella’s family history, focused on the media surrounding the trial. “There’s a theory that it wasn’t her mother who killed her father’s first wife. It was the father.”
Damon nods. “Sounds plausible.”
“There are a number of conspiracy theories out there. Ella was so young, I can’t imagine she would know anything.”
“I think it would be best to let that part of her history go, unless she’s the one who wants to know more?” he questions.
“I haven’t told her. It was just … something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Are you done looking now?”
“Not until I figure it all out,” I tell him. Maybe I shouldn’t dig, but there’s a prick at the back of my neck when I think about how she reacted to talking about her mother and father. There’s something there, I know there is.
Damon’s tone breaks me from the thought. “No murder theory talk while the guys are over for cards.”
It’s like he’s summoned them, because there’s a loud knock on the front door. Hustling up the stairs, I get to the door just as there’s another knock.
Opening the door wide, I tell them to come on in as Damon’s coming up the stairway.
“Damn, nice place,” Thomas comments before he’s even fully in. Glancing around the place, I think it’s nice in some ways, yet cold in others.
“I’ve got boxes to unpack still, but the game is set up downstairs and there’s plenty of beer.
Alex, Thomas, and Ethan file in one by one, shouting and greeting us with slaps on the back. I’ve known these guys since high school. Damon had a front-row seat to when I lost my shit over Quincy, but they were there too, in a way. Not so much in my apartment, or guiding me through healthy ways to deal with loss. Just in the way they always have been. They checked in on me, invited me out even when I kept declining. They were simply there and that made all the difference.
We’ve always been there for each other.
“My girl practically kicked me out,” says Thomas when all of us are in the kitchen, choosing our first-round picks for beer. “Begged me to spend a night with you assholes.”
Thomas and his girlfriend have been together at least six months now.
“When you popping the question?” Ethan jokes, “She sounds like a smart one.”
Thomas just smiles wider, not reacting to the taunt. The way he talks about her, always bringing her up, always smiling when we ask about her … it’s telling. He really cares about her.
“Mine was excited too,” says Alex. “She said she wanted to binge-watch this romance show on Netflix. I said I’d watch it with her, but she said she wanted to experience it the way it was meant to be experienced, whatever that means.”
“Means it’s going to be hot,” says Ethan. “So hot she won’t want you there to see it.”
Alex frowns. “Why wouldn’t she want me to see it?”
Ethan comments dryly as we make our way down the stairs to the table. “’Cause if it’s one of those historical shows, then you’ll have to witness how horny she is for a guy in a tricorn hat.” The laughter ricochets in the stairwell and the guys keep it moving, finding their place at the table and twisting off the caps to the beers.
“It’s about time we had a poker night,” says Damon. “How long has it been since the last one?” Damon was the last one to join this group. When he took me in, I took him in. Now he’s one of the crew.