"Sorry, Dad," the offender mutters; he's wearing gray joggers, a black shirt, and a black hat.
The other one, in black joggers, a white shirt, and a white hat, shoves his brother. "Yeah, Nate. Watch your mouth."
"Shut up, dweeb."
"Boys." It’s patient but annoyed.
They both go silent. I hold out my hand. "Bear Olafsson. Friend of Noelle's."
"What kind of friend? A special friend?" This is the other brother, Noah. The one in the white hat.
Noelle comes out with a giant glass bowl containing the salad she and her mother put together. "None of your business, Noah," she says. "Don’t be a buttinsky."
"You're a buttinksy," he snarks. "You've never brought anyone to a Saturday cookout before. Sue me for being curious if you're finally back in the saddle."
"About damn time," Nathan says.
Noelle sighs. "It's none of your business whether I’mback in the saddle."
"You gave that cock—" Nathan cuts off, glancing at his father, who looks at him with an arched eyebrow. “That cock-a-doodle-dooowaytoo much your life. I'm just happy you're finally getting back out there."
Noelle smiles at her brother, setting the salad bowl down on the metal outdoor table. "Well, thank you, Nathan." She looks from me to her brothers. "Did you introduce yourselves?"
“Oh, shit—I mean shoot." Noah approaches me, hand extended. "Noah Harper. This is my twin, Nathan."
I shake his hand and then his brothers. "Bear."
"Bear," Noah repeats. "That's your real name?"
"Yeah, it is."
"Cool. It fits you."
Before I can think of a response, the sliding door opens and Noelle's sisters come out onto the deck.
Tall, slender, and classically beautiful, with long, swan-like necks and elaborately curled blond hair, they're both dressed professionally, one of them in a black pantsuit with a pale pink blouse, the other in a long red skirt, matching red high heels, and a white blouse, all but the top-most button done up modestly. Both carry expensive-looking purses and have an air of importance. Or maybe self-importance.
Their eyes widen as they see me.
"No-No, you brought a…friend?" The red-skirted one says.
Noelle joins me, tucking her hand around my elbow; the action has the air of her making a statement. "Yes, I did. Natasha, this is Bear. Bear, these are my older sisters.” She gestures at each sister as she names them. “Natasha and Nikki."
Nikki is in the black suit, and Natasha is in the red skirt.
I hold out my hand, and the women both shake mine—their grips are limp and delicate, so I only lightly clasp their hands before letting go immediately. "Nice to meet you both."
Their eyes scan me, assessing me—my clothes, my size, my tattoos, my hair, my beard. It feels like scrutiny and makes me uncomfortable.
Nina comes out, then, bearing a large wooden bowl covered with a cloth napkin. “Noelle, can you fetch the plates and silverware?"
It strikes me as odd that Noelle was summoned early to help, and even when the other siblings arrive, it's Noelle who's asked to set the table. None of the others so much as offers to help as Noelle carries a tall stack of heavy-looking, brightly-colored plates outside.
I hustle over to her and take the plates from her. "Let me help.”
She blinks at me. "Oh—um, yeah. I'll get the silverware."
I set a plate at each place as Noelle moves around the table behind me with the silverware.
