“Suit yourself.”
He took off and I headed up to the house. I didn’t worry about Darius as much as I should have then. I didn’t know to. He was always so fucking confident; I didn’t imagine he could have chinks in his armor.
On the way in, I grabbed myself a snack from the fridge and settled on reading in one of the oddly-decorated rooms. This one was like a cellarium, and I’d never thought to choose it before. It had windows and pastel green cushions. It was chilly but there were blankets and I’d grabbed Shane’s shirt.
I sat reading until I heard a noise at the entryway. It was Shane. He also had a book with him. He stared like he didn’t know what to say, which was odd seeing as he never had any problems telling us off. I figured something out. “I’m in your book spot, aren’t I? I can move.”
“No,” he said when I moved to get up. “We can share.”
He sat on the other end of the cushioned area. It wasn’t a couch exactly. More like a bunch of cushions with enough pillows on top that it resembled a couch. He was too far away if you asked me, but I wasn’t about to say anything. I thought about Darius’s orders to at least talk to him, but I didn’t know what to say. It turned into an evening of us reading in comfortable silence together. When we heard the others hooting and hollering as they came in the house, rushing by the sliding glass cellarium door, clearly having consumed more beer than they should have, Shane stood. I marked my book and closed it, standing with him.
“Guess we should go to bed, huh?” I said like a question even though it wasn’t really. “Early day and all that.” The Taylors had us up early each morning. There was no designated bedtime, but if you got to bed too late you were busted all day. It was just plain a bad idea.
He nodded his agreement. “Good night, Simon,” he said. “And … I like you in my shirts.” His smile was breathtaking. Like the sun hitting you with all its might.
And I was a flower blooming in his light.
* * *
Simon
The next few mornings at breakfast, I sat with Shane on my left and Darius on my right. I usually headed downstairs on my own now since Darius insisted he had to stop by Asher’s room. Shane was at the table when I arrived. His long hair was brushed free, and his muscles pressed against the t-shirt he wore. His smile was shy, and his dark eyes glittered as they flicked to the space beside him. No one seemed to notice what passed between us, but everything did, and it happened without words. I skittered over to him and took a seat.
Sandy and Terry cooked for us—even though the kitchen was large, any more bodies than that and cooking was a disaster with the way the space was set up—and someone usually set the table. That had already been done. Shane lifted the pitcher of orange juice, offering.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
I am a word user. Some would say I use too many words. I still believe I’m the reason Shane talks as much as he does now.
He winked at me, and we resumed our quiet whatever we had. Darius and Asher made their way to the table, loudly. Asher was laughing at something Darius had said and Darius was being his haughty self, stating something about stock markets he couldn’t possibly know. “You sure are a card, babyface,” Ash said popping his hat off and plopping it onto Dar’s head.
That’s when I thought that maybe Darius did have something magical about him. It hadn’t been long, and Ash was already looking at him likethat.His eyes softened and brightened at the same time for Dar in a way I’d never seen of him. Asher’d even relaxed some.
“What did I tell y’all about hats at the table?” Sandy said. “Off.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ash said.
Neither Darry nor Ash were pleased about that, but for me, it felt nice having someone care enough to teach us manners. It comforted me even though the comment wasn’t directed at me. I even liked the way Darry and Ash groused about it together when she turned back to the stove.
We ate a good breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. The grown-ups, and even some of the teens, drank coffee. Darius, the rest of the younger kids, and I usually drank whatever juice was on the table. That was the day Darius switched. He had been thirteen since April, but I guess it took even him some getting used to it.
“I’ll have coffee. Black,” he said like he’d been drinking it all his life.
Terry stared at him. “What do I look like? One of them fancy, city baristas? Get yer own damn coffee, boy.”
I didn’t know what a barista was. Looking back, I’m surprised he did, which means he probably picked up coffee for Sandy now and then who was known to show with a paper cup bearing a black plastic lid. No one stopped him though. He got up and poured a cup for him and Ash. “You want one, Simon?” he asked.
While I thought about it, Shane put a hand on my thigh.No.I smiled as warmth filled me. “Naw, I’m good with orange juice.”
Shane relaxed.
It was a strange place. No hats at the table, but sure, have some coffee even if you’re thirteen. Booze? Sure, but don’t show up drunk to work.
We ate like horses and then parted to do our jobs, which meant Darius was with me. We beelined straight for the stables. Ash had taken his hat back, but I wondered if Darius and I should have hats in the sun. It hadn’t occurred to me before. No one mentioned it. That was as far as it got—I was thirteen and distracted by other things.
Darius handed me a shovel. He grabbed the pitchfork. “I can’t wait till I’m rich. I’m never shoveling shit again.”
He was always sure of himself. His confidence never wavered. Me? I had doubts. “How do you know you’ll be rich?”
