We knock on the front door, and Clancy greets us with a warm smile. I introduce him to Wagner and Sammy, and heleads us through the house to the back patio, where everyone is gathered.
Two things strike me immediately.
One, the place is super fucking bright. So bright I’m regretting not bringing my sunglasses, even though it’s late dusk. The string lights over the table are completely redundant since the overhead lights are on, and several large LED floodlights are mounted on the walls and on poles in the backyard. I’m guessing this might be for Clancy, to make sure the old guy doesn’t take a fall. But it’s a little excessive.
And two, the vibe is different. I don’t know if Jackson had it out with his sisters about them inviting us over or if they’ve spent the rest of the afternoon eating and are in a semi-comatose food coma. Everyone smiles politely as I introduce Wagner and Sammy to them, but something is definitely a little off.
Clancy puts on some country music, and Chris calls out to Wagner and me, bringing an imaginary cup to his mouth. “What’ll you guys have? We have beer, beer, and more beer.”
“There’s also wine and tequila,” Verity adds with a smile.
“We’re good, thanks. We brought our own stuff,” Wagner says, stepping in. “Not huge drinkers.”
“No worries,” Chris says. “But if you change your mind, help yourselves.”
Everyone is out here except for Jackson and Pip. I glance into the house as Clancy joins us.
“He finally relented and listened to us. He’s inside getting dressed,” he says, without even trying to hide his smile.
I play dumb. “Who is?”
“Santa Claus” is Clancy’s smart-ass reply.
Wagner snorts beside me.
“Santa is here?” Sammy asks.
Clancy winces, realizing he’s put his foot in his mouth.
“No. Clancy was just kidding. But you know who is here?” I flick my hand toward the incoming figure.
“Pip!” Sammy squeals in delight, rushing over and colliding with him so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t bowl the pint-sized dude over.
“Who’s that?” Wagner mutters to me.
I wave Pip over. “Pip, this is my older and uglier brother, Wagner. Wagner, this is one of the volunteers at the rescue center and Jackson’s best friend, Pip.”
The trademark confidence I’ve come to expect from Pip momentarily vanishes as he shakes Wagner’s hand, his cheeks turning a shade of pink under these ridiculously bright lights.
“Nice to meet you,” Wagner says, a curious edge in his tone.
“You, too.” Pip stares up at my brother, his gaze lingering a moment too long. “Do you mind if I take Sammy to Sibella? She’s the pregnant one, and she’s dying to meet him.”
“Sure,” Wagner says, sounding anything but.
“I’ll keep him safe. Don’t worry,” Pip assures him in his rich, low register.
Wagner smiles. Actually physically smiles. “That’s fine.”
“That’s fine?” I check with him to make sure he hasn’t lost his mind once Pip and Sammy totter away.
He tips his head and steps away from us, finding a better vantage point. “I’ll be watching them like a hawk.”
“Now, that makes more sense.”
Wagner was always bound to be an overprotective father, but since he unexpectedly ended up as a single dad, he’s never not in papa-bear mode. I track my gaze to Pip and Sammy, who have walked over to Sibella and Tim. Sammy’s making big hand gestures, regaling them with who-knows-what story. They all give him their undivided attention.
“He’s going to be a social butterfly, that kid,” Clancy says. “Great with people.”
