“Hey. Just because you’re uncouth doesn’t mean we have to eat like heathens.”
My brother laughed. “Stepping up in the world, huh? Fancy new digs, fancy-pants napkins.”
“Sit down and eat, you moron,” I told him, but fondly.
Not much got between Cap and his food, so the conversation was minimal while we packed away the grub. That was fine with me, too. Meredith talked through every meal, which was probably why she stayed so skinny. She chewed more words than food.
Cap finally sat back from his plate with a loud, long sigh and a resounding belch. “Superb meal.”
“Thanks.” I wiped my mouth with the fancy napkin and contemplated another few bites of stuffing. “I’m a fine-ass cook, huh?”
“You know it.” Cap stretched his long arms and linked his hands behind his head as he tipped the chair back. “Gimme a few minutes before I’ll be ready for pie.”
“Help me clear the table. That will help work up an appetite.” I laughed at his groan of protest. “Fine. Maybe we can just collapse into a turkey coma on the couch and watch some bad TV for a little bit first.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Cap grinned.
For just the two of us I hadn’t made as much food as I would’ve for a full group, and we’d eaten most of it, so I had no guilt about leaving what was left on the table for a little while so we could veg out and relax. I was so full and sleepy I wasn’t sure I could’ve managed a full cleanup, anyway. Besides, the pie still needed to cool a little before we could eat it.
In the living room, Cap looked everything over. I knew he was noting the cost of the furniture, the flat-screen, probably even the collection of DVDs and video games. Not that he was judging anything by how expensive it was or not, just that Cap did that sort of thing. Noticed stuff.
“So…that’s her, huh?” He was looking at Charlie and Meredith’s wedding photo. “Your friend?”
“Yep.” I flopped on the couch, sprawling, and dug the remote out of the cushions.
“She was married?”
I paused. I’d been sure Vic would’ve filled Cap in on the whole sordid story. “She’s still married. That’s Charlie, her husband.”
Cap stared at the picture for a long time. “So…you live with both of them?”
“Well, yeah.”
He looked at me, assessing. I could practically hear the gears turning, but in true Cap form he just shrugged and took his place beside me on the couch. No matter what he thought about it, and I knew he thought plenty, he wasn’t going to say anything. But to my surprise, he did.
“You should be careful, Tesla.”
I could remember times when I’d hated my baby brother. When he broke my stuff or had tantrums to get his own way or just in general had done whatever he could to work my nerves just because he knew he could. The truth was, though, we were closer than a lot of people I knew were with their siblings, and part of the reason was because while I sometimes long ago might’ve hated him, I genuinely liked Cap.
“Thanks, but it’s fine. It’s all good.” I handed him the remote. “It’s not like it was with Mom and Dad, okay? Here, anything but football.”
Cap looked disappointed but dutifully clicked channels until he came across some game show that had contestants running through obstacle courses and water hazards. “Even so. They’re married. This is their house. It’s not like living with Vic and Elaine, right?”
“God. No.” I wanted to make that clear. I wasn’t sure how much Cap had ever known about what had happened between me and Vic so long ago, but I figured he at least suspected. “Way different.”
“So. Just be careful, that’s all. And you know if you need someplace, you can always come crash with me.”
“Uh-huh. What about Miss Lyndsay?” I poked his side. “Think she’d be down with that?”
Cap stared steadfastly at the television, but I couldn’t miss the hint of red flushing his throat and cheeks. I couldn’t pass up the chance to grill him about it. Wasn’t that what big sisters were for?
“What’s going on? Captain?”
At the use of his full name, he shot me a glare. “Nothing.”
“C’mon, Cap. I know you’re into her. And she’s pretty cute. She seems to like you, too. So…”
“So nothing, okay?” He finger-stabbed the remote. “It’s not like that. We’re roommates.”
I had no doubts that’s how they’d started out, but I also believed things had become something else, and quite some time ago, too. The question was, which of them was pretending it wasn’t more? I had my bets on Lynds, though I wouldn’t have put it past Cap to be inadvertently playing hard to get. My brother had a super scary smart brain in the head of a hulking lunk, with hands the size of frying pans. Sometimes the lunk took over the brain. That was never pretty.
“I’m sort of seeing someone, anyway,” he said, and I was totally floored.
“What? Who? Since when?”
He shrugged, uncomfortable. “Friend of Elaine’s sister.”
“Wait a minute. You’re dating a friend of Nancy’s?” I laughed. Loudly. “Is she like Nancy?”
Cap scowled. “If she was, would I be going out with her?”
“I dunno, Cap, would you?”
He made a face. “Her name’s Missy. She’s in nursing school. She’s…nice.”
That didn’t sound promising. “Uh-huh. And?”
Another shrug and steadfast glare at the TV. His last stab had turned on the home shopping channel. I knew there was no way he was really watching it. I mean, I love Torchwood as much as I love chocolate cake, but watching John Barrowman hawk costume jewelry was totally not Cap’s style.
“What does Lynds think about it?” It was the only question I could think to ask. It seemed like an important one.
“What difference does it make what she thinks? She goes out with lots of guys all the time.”
“She does?” I hadn’t known that, but watching my brother’s face as he refused to look at me, I could see he’d known it for a long time. “Cappy, have you ever considered just telling Lyndsay that you love her?”
He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. “Yeah.”
His answer surprised me. Cap could talk until your ears fell off about obscure trivia and esoteric philosophies. He could fix cars while talking about higher-level math theorems. But emotions? It seemed hard for him to acknowledge he had any, much less discuss them.
“So, why don’t you?”
“Because I’m not stupid.”
I patted his shoulder. “I know you’re not. So does she. You guys have lived together for what…a year?”
“A year and seven months, actually. And four days,” he added. “Not counting the three months of weekends she spent there before she moved in permanently.”
“Oh, count those, too.”
He smiled a little and finally looked at me. “A long time, okay? Long enough for me to know how I feel.”
“So why are you wasting your time with Missy? And her time, too?”
“Because she’s nice. Because she likes me. Because Lynds is just my roommate and a buddy and…fuck.” Cap frowned and punched a big fist against his knee. “It’s just easier to be with Missy, okay? She doesn’t expect anything from me but dinner and a movie and maybe a hand job.”
I recoiled. It was one thing to assume my baby brother was finger-banging some chick in the front seat of his car after a night out, but it wasn’t something I wanted to hear about in detail. “Whoa.”
Cap sighed. “Missy’s just a girl, that’s all. And Lynds…”
“Yeah. I know.” I really did. I patted his shoulder again. “But if you don’t tell her, how’s she supposed to know?”
His expression turned grim. “It doesn’t matter.”
There was no point in pushing him. I sat back. “Okay. But you know I’m here for you, if you need someone to talk to. I got your back.”
He laughed, not quite his usual hearty chortle,
but better than the sad face he’d been giving me before. “Right. Same to you.”
Impulsively, I hugged him. It had been awhile since I’d spent time alone with just Cap, no Vic or Elaine or the kids, no Lynds, no customers in the shop. Just the two of us hanging out, watching TV, bellies full of good food and no place we had to be. Pretty soon we’d have to haul our fat asses off the couch and clean up, but for now it was lazy time.
“Can I change the channel?” I asked him. “I know you’re into cubic zirconium brooches and all, but…”
His laugh sounded better this time. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Let’s see what else is on.”
We’d just barely settled into some cheesy Syfy Channel monster movie when I heard the rumble of the garage opening. A minute later, the door opened, then footsteps sounded on the tiles of the hall. I couldn’t manage to shove myself off the couch before Meredith came through the arch into the living room.
“Sexy pants, where are—oh.” She stopped dead.
“Hey, you guys are home early.” I got up to greet her. “This is my brother, Cap. Cap, Meredith.”
“I thought you were going to his place,” she said.
Cap used the remote to turn off the TV, and stood. He looked extra big all of a sudden, kind of like delicate things would break if he just looked at them. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“We were,” I told her, “but I figured it had been a long time since I’d made Thanksgiving dinner and so I ran to the store and got some things. It was just easier to cook here.” I squeezed her, though she didn’t give in to my embrace. “How was Susie’s house?”
Charlie had sneaked in while we were talking, and he said, “We’re back early, is that enough of an answer?”
“Oh, no.” To fill Cap in, I said, “Charlie’s sister is a little…what would you call her, Charlie?”
“Annoying,” he said. “But it was still fun. We bugged out before the board games started, that’s all. Dinner was fine.”
I’d heard about the board game marathons, which sounded fun in theory but apparently ended up like grudge matches. “So you’re both home early, great! I made pie. And we’re watching junk TV, but we could play a board game if you want.”
Meredith snorted. “Um. No.”
“I’ll take some pie,” Charlie said. Meredith shot him a look. “What? Cap looks like he could put away a slice or two. C’mon, what do you say?”
“Sounds awesome.”
The men grinned at each other and became instant friends. Cap followed Charlie to the kitchen, leaving me and Meredith in the living room. She looked around the room, eyes fixing on the framed photo I’d set on the end table, then coming back to me.
“I just didn’t expect anyone to be here when we got home,” she said.
Charlie might be accustomed to Meredith’s “moods,” but for me it was still a lot like navigating a minefield that was supposed to have been cleared out. You think it’s a field of flowers until you step in the wrong place and get yourself blown up.
“I didn’t think it would be a problem, Meredith. Is it?”
She frowned. “I was looking forward to coming home, getting in my comfy clothes and just hanging out.”
There was nothing stopping her from doing that as far as I could see. From the kitchen came the raised voices of male laughter, which made me smile. I was glad Charlie and Cap seemed to be getting along. Meredith, however, didn’t smile.
“You ate in the dining room.”
“It’s Thanksgiving,” I said. “Listen, if you have a problem with something, you should probably just come out and say so.”
I wasn’t Charlie. I couldn’t pretend to read her mind, and I wasn’t interested in playing games. I didn’t want to fight with her, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with this passive-aggressive bullshit, either.
She didn’t seem to know how to take that. “You used my china.”
I sighed. There’d be no point in trying to kiss or hug her; she’d only push me away. Not that I felt much like doing either at the moment. “When I moved in here, you told me to act like this was my house, too. Did I misunderstand?”
“No. But…my china,” Meredith said in a low voice. “And we never talked about guests. And you left the kitchen a mess, Tesla. That’s pretty fucking rude.”
This had the flavor of a fight, and it was a taste I didn’t like.
“I have every intention of cleaning up after myself. I’ve never left a mess before, have I? I’d have had it all taken care of before you got home, but you decided to come home early. And really, is it a big deal?” She’d left dishes in the sink overnight more than once. I knew that for a fact.
Meredith’s jaw tightened. “I’m just saying, it’s shitty to come home and find my house a mess and strangers here I have to entertain.”
“You don’t have to entertain my brother. Hell, I barely have to entertain him. Cap’s just easy that way.” More laughter rose in the kitchen. “And it sounds like Charlie’s doing it, anyway. And your house won’t be a mess in a few hours. Okay?”
I really didn’t want to fight with her. I wanted some homemade pumpkin pie with a side of French vanilla ice cream and some chocolate chips on top. I wanted some hot tea. Maybe even a dreaded board game—Uno could be hilarious with Cap, who made up the best unofficial rules.
“Meredith, I either live here or I’m a guest. And if I’m just a guest, then yeah, I guess I’m being kind of rude. But I didn’t think I was. I thought I lived here as a part of this family. And in that case, you need to get over it.”
Charlie never pushed her, so I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant for her to be pushed by me. She lifted her chin. “Of course you’re not a guest.”
“Then get over it,” I repeated. “I mean, talk to me about stuff, don’t just get pissy about it. If you don’t want me to use your china, I won’t.”
“I’ve never even used it! I think I should’ve been the first to use it, that’s all.”
Since she and Charlie had been married for eight years, this argument held little weight with me. Still, I could compromise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It’s great china. You should break it out more often.”
“It’s our wedding china. Mine and Charlie’s.” She puffed out a breath. “So, yeah. I guess I’d prefer if you didn’t use our things without asking first.”
“Fair enough.” I felt bad about the china, but not as bad as it seemed she wanted me to. “Maybe you need to be more specific about your expectations, Meredith.”
“How was I supposed to know you’d just use it?”
I sighed. “Remember when I told you that if we were going to do this it would need a lot of talking? If you wanted me to join you and Charlie, live here, be a part of you, we’d have to make sure to talk about stuff. In advance and when it came up. That’s part of the package when you have more than two partners in a relationship. If you don’t talk about stuff, then…people get angry. Or hurt.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said a little coldly. “I forgot. You’re the expert.”
“So not an expert,” I told her. “Also? Not interested in fighting with you about it.”
I pushed past her to head for the kitchen. I wasn’t mad yet, but I didn’t want to get there. In the kitchen, Cap and Charlie had demolished a good portion of the pie. One of them had brought out the chocolate syrup, probably at Cap’s suggestion, since that was a Martin family tradition. Also whipped cream, chocolate chips and even some multicolored sprinkles.
“It’s like a sundae on pie,” Charlie said. “Killer pie, by the way.”
I kissed him. “Thanks. Did you leave any for me? I can’t tell under the wasteland of all the toppings.”
“Plenty left.” Cap held up his plate, mouth full, and mumbled, “Pie. Is. Awesome.”
“Here, I’ll grab you a piece.” Charlie put his plate on the counter, but I shook my head.
“I’ll get it. You enjoy yours. Anyone want coffee?” Normally I didn’t drink coffee at home, since I liv
ed and breathed it at work, but something about pie and ice cream screamed for caffeine.
Cap swallowed and licked his mouth. “Me.”
“Me, too.” Charlie forked up more pie. “God. So good. I can make the—”
“Hush,” I told him with a nudge against his hip as I moved past him to pull the coffee from the cupboard. “I can do it. Eat your pie.”
That’s how Meredith found us. The men, plates in hand, leaning against the counter, wearing matching mustaches of whipped cream and chocolate. Me laughing at them as I tried in vain to get the coffeepot working, unable not because it was too complicated but because Charlie kept stepping in front of me every time I moved, trying to kiss me with his whipped-cream-covered mouth. I’d just given in and let him.
“You’re making coffee?” Meredith said. She had her hands full of plates from the table. “I’ll have some.”
“Sure.” I licked whipped cream from my top lip. “If your husband ever gets his ass out of the way so I can.”
“He likes to get his ass in the way.” Meredith motioned for both of us to move so she could put the plates in the dishwasher.
I stepped in front of her when she turned with empty hands, the way Charlie had done to me, but Meredith didn’t laugh. I put my palms on her hips, shifting them a little, trying to get her to dance with me. She shot a glance over my shoulder toward Cap and frowned. I let her go.
“I really want to get the dining room cleared away,” she said.
“I’ll help you. Just let me finish with the coffee. And you can have some pie,” I wheedled. “It’s really good.”
I caught the twitch of a smile from her. It was something, anyway. In the dining room, I found her studying the china plate in her hand as if she’d discovered it in an ancient Egyptian tomb. She looked up when I came in.
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted,” she said. “For the registry. I mean, my mother told me we should pick a china pattern, right? So everyone could buy us pieces. Because everyone does that. I didn’t know what I wanted to live with for the rest of my life. So I picked this.”
She held up a bread plate, which we hadn’t used, so it was still clean. It was white with a design of roses around the rim. Not what I’d have picked, if I were ever so fortunate as to get hitched and have a wedding registry. But it was pretty.