Logan: Not talking about the seat belt, but do that, too.
I had to laugh. Even a crisis didn’t deter Logan. I thumbed through to Matteo’s first before Mason’s.
Matteo: Guys said you’re in Seattle? What’s going on? Call. We’re due, man.
We were.
I clicked on Mason’s last.
Mason: Logan called, so I know what’s going on. Call when you can. We should do a three-way call. Also, Sam wants to come, leave the kids with Malinda before heading up. You down for that?
I hit call for Logan as I replied to both Mason and Matteo.
Mason was first.
Me: You know I’m always down for visiting and seeing you guys. Never ask, brother.
His response was automatic.
Mason: I figured, still you got a lot going on now. Still no Channing yet?
Me: Not yet.
Logan picked up right then.
“Dude.” He grunted. “I’m fucking Taylor right now.”
I started laughing at the same time I heard her voice in the background. “He’s winning at a video game. And he’s not being a gracious winner.” She was laughing as she said all that.
There was a muffling sound, then he said to her, his voice sounding at a distance, “You love when I’m a gracious winner. You tell me all the time when you go do--”
“Okay. Not the right talk when your friends are on the phone with you.”
Logan laughed. “Nate’s not my friend. He’s family. We’re like a mob family.”
I laughed. “We’re not the mob.”
He lifted the phone back, and his voice was clearer. “We should be. We’d be awesome at getting shit done.”
I needed to send my text to Matteo.
“Hold on. Let me call you back in a minute.”
“Okay.”
He hung up, and I was typing next.
Me: A lot is happening, but we need to do a phone call. Warning. You might be mad at me.
Matteo: Fuck. Okay. Call when you can. We play there this Sunday. You want to come to the game?
Me: Of course. Make it two?
Matteo: Course. Call later, for real. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.
Yes. It was time to let everyone know what was going on. I did what I could on my own, but even though I was used to operating as an individual, I wasn’t anymore. Our group, we were a package deal, and Mason was right. I needed to ask for more from them.
I couldn’t tell Matteo and not tell Channing.
I called Logan again.
He picked up. “Mason wants to do a three-way. You have time now?”
“No. We’re at Graham’s now.”
“I didn’t know that was tonight. How’s that going?”
“It’s…” I hesitated. “There are family issues here.”
Logan grunted, and I could hear an explosion from his end. He added, “Well, we all got experience there. I’m starting to think our families are normal. Like, who does have a nice and loving home nowadays?”
From his end, Taylor spoke up, “That’s...sad.”
Another grunt. I could hear his voice turn from the phone. “Don’t feel sad for me, baby. I know there are amazing peeps like Malinda, and your dad is pretty cool now.” There was some silence from his end, just the sounds of their video game in the background before Logan came back. “So, talk later tonight?”
I frowned but didn’t push about what just happened on his end. “Yes, and Matteo’s playing here on Sunday. I’m going to go and take Quincey.”
“If she’ll want to go. Does she like football?”
“That’s not been a conversation we’ve tackled, but I will in the future.”
“Good. You should, considering her brother and our guys.”
I hid a smile. “Right. Thanks for the advice.”
“Well. I am your lawyer. I’m all about giving advice, but I’m not cheap.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. And yes, if she wants to go, I’ll take her. No one’s said anything to Matteo about Nova?”
“No. We’ve been on lockdown, just me and Tay and Mase and Sam. That’s it. Even the kids don’t know, so they won’t spill to Heather and Chan.”
“I’m going to have to tell them, too.”
“That’ll be a good conversation. Heather and Channing are cool. They won’t care about the timeline of when you’ve shared with everyone. You don’t have to share all the shit about Dick Royas.”
“Yeah, they are.”
We were both winding down. The emergency had been successfully put off for the next phone call.
Logan was on the same wavelength, saying, “Okay. Have your dinner. Text us when you can do a call.”
“It might be late.”
“That’s fine. You know that.”
We said our goodbyes, and I was moving back through the basement for the stairs when I heard someone coming down. Quincey had worried eyes and carried a glass in her hand. She paused on the stairs, gripping the railing tight. “Hey.”
I paused, too, taking her in. Something was going on. I was expecting this, but the look she was wearing now seemed like a different sort of something happening. Something bad. Something that needed to be handled now. The problem: I didn’t know what the something was, and I didn’t know how to get her to say what the something was.