Blacklake-Book4-1 Three Cousins

Chapter 44
~

Papa gave me the eye when I sidled up to the breakfast bar for dinner. Mama turned around, a two-foot wide spatula in her hand. She hefted it like she was thinkin’ what kinda damage she could do to my face with it. Papa said simply, “Give it a couple days, hey?”

Was he talkin’ to me? If so, was that about Ezra, or the trip he anticipated me to take to the Plain? Both?

As Mama turned back to her cookin’, Papa said he’d heard Ezra had contacted a realtor about buyin’ a place. Maybe my jaw dropped open a bit. Kriz and I had joined her for lunch. She hadn’t said anything about that.

“So ya didn’t know?” he said.

Maybe I shook my head. Prolly did, ’cause I felt a bit dizzy. After the fact, it annoyed me that Papa would already know. Which was pure idjiotic. As council leader, nothing happens in the Valley that he don’t know about.

“She’s told Zarade she’s takin’ a few days off before the greater rush hits the Valley,” Papa continued. Of course he’d just happened to hear that too.

Oh. No wonder Mama’s close to battle status. The two of em prolly put three and five together, and figgered we were off for the Plain together. I’d planned to raise the topic at the end of dinner. I decided to get it out of the way, considerin’ they’d figgered it out already.

“She and Kriz are pickin’ me up at four-thirty in the morning.”

“Ya die down there,” Mama growled without turnin’ around, “don’t be expectin’ we’re gonna drag yar body back for no dirge singin’. Just have those fool cousins dig ya a shallow grave beside the highway.”

That was terse, even for Mama.

“We’ll double back,” Papa said, “place a marker.” I think that’s a human thing. Not much something we ogres do.

I told him that was kind of him. Suggested I’d throw a couple shovels in the back of Ezra’s truck.

“Ya take my coup,” Mama growled. “Yar brain needs a better suspension than her forty-year-old bucket of bolts, in case ya otherwise survive the trip.”

I thanked her.

~ Ezra ~

As Thomas readied to climb out of my truck, he hit me with a kiss that made me think hotly about our session the previous evening. He left with a, “I’ll be missing you like the air I breathe.”

Had no idea what that meant. Humans don’t often make a lot of sense. Males, in general.

I’d taken him back to our spot in the woods, though tonight we did a lot more talkin’ than kissin’. I’d never figgered two souls could have so much to talk about. Prolly strung more sentences together this evening than I have in aggregate the last ten years.

We even talked about football. I’m not a fan, though Kriz and I have sat with Ike through too many stinkin’ games on frozen bleachers. Thomas told me a few tales about playin’ B-ball with Ike. He laughed a lot. Couldn’t see the humor in most of his stories. Humans are an odd lot. Males in particular.

I sighed as Thomas disappeared into the front of the OW building. I’m an idjit, idjit, idjit. Am I fallin’ into a true relationship with a stinkin’ human?

Makes no sense. Before pullin’ away from the curb, I pulled my phone out of the deep pocket of my smock. Ike’s tone had sounded at some point when Thomas and I were in lip-lock. Ike was prolly chickenin’ out, after tellin’ his mama what we were up to.

Nope. Only change in the plan evidently, was he’d pick me up instead. I love my truck, but Dorig drives a sweet set of wheels. Those leather seats can make ya wish ya were bovine. Drive as quiet as a troll cavern. Nice sound system.

~