Mama starts a list while Dove helps her with names. Anders returns from the front door with bags. When the food’s scent reaches my family, we all turn to him, barely hiding our greediness. Mama’s stomach growls loudly.
“Food?” Future asks, pointing at Anders.
“Yeah, kid, food,” he mumbles.
I walk to where the containers rest on the counter. Rubbing my lips against Anders’s bare arm, I look up at his frowning face.
“Do you not like the food?” When he ignores me, I continue, “The map? Conor? Are you angry we ate your chicken legs?”
Anders finally grudgingly smiles. “I’ll always share my shit with you.”
“Then why are you pouting like a little boy?”
Irritated again, he glares over my head at Conor, who is focused on Mama’s list. “He isn’t nice to women. It’s all fake. He hurts children. I think he set a nun on fire.”
“What’s a nun?”
Sighing, Anders shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m lying anyway.”
“I’m not wholly against the idea of setting a nun on fire,” Conor says, having eavesdropped from the table. “If she threatened the club or my family, I could see striking the match.”
Anders sighs again, louder as if he wants people outside to hear. “Sorry, man.”
Conor glances back and smiles. “Men are so territorial with their new girlfriends. Bronco was the same way with Lana. Then again, maybe I’m just that intimidating to your egos.”
Anders thinks about Conor’s words while the younger man leans over to whisper something to Mama.
“We should eat,” I say when Anders remains silent.
He places his hands on my shoulders and looks at me with his sad, blue eyes. “Do you like him?”
“Who?”
“Really?” he mutters, annoyed. “Who do you think?”
“Bronco?”
“Now, I know you’re fucking with me.”
Grinning, I nudge him aside and open the bags. “You miss being alone with me, is that it?”
Anders leans down and nuzzles his lips in my hair. He wants me to pay attention to him and maybe to punch Conor. I realize he’s jealous like when Future doesn’t want Mama to play with other kids.
“Can I show Mama, Dove, and Future the pool today?” I ask as he sets out plates that I fill with food.
“Of course, but you don’t have swimsuits.”
“Is there a law about wearing them? Can we go naked like last night?”
Conor gives Anders an approving wink, and my blond bear smiles grudgingly. “There’s no law. You can wear whatever you want. Just don’t drink the water.”
“Why?”
“There are chemicals in the water to keep the pool clean.”
Mama and I share a look, knowing Future will want to drink the water. That’s a problem for later.
Conor carries plates to the table. While he seems helpful, I suspect he just doesn’t want Mama and Dove to stop working.
“If the Yabo family will be staying here long term, it wouldn’t hurt for you to buy a playset for the yard,” he tells Anders. “Bronco’s daughters still play on theirs, and those girls are older than Future.”
Mama frowns, not sure what a playset is. Of course, she assumes the worst. I set drinks in front of her and Dove. Then, I join Future and feed him from my plate. I smile at how bright he looks today. I’d forgotten the way my brother smiled before John Marks came along and started trouble with the motorcycle men. Now, Future and Dove can shine, and Mama won’t have bruises on her face.
Anders remains in the kitchen, taking bites and frowning at his feet. I don’t know why he’s so tense. Maybe like Future this morning, Anders isn’t sure what to make of his new life.
Walking to him, I hug my grand sequoia and remind him how his heart is full of sunshine. He isn’t the Antichrist, and he doesn’t have to get high to be happy. If he chooses not to smile today, that’s okay, too. Not every day is a celebration. Some are sour, and others are filled with pain.
Anders’s mind could be focused on the past, present, or future. There’s no telling since he hides his thoughts, afraid of them being mocked.
But I love him, and I am relieved his story and mine are written together. If the Village has to burn to allow us a happy future, then so be it.
ANDERS
Pixie takes good care of her little brother, feeding him and changing his diapers. Fairuza is very focused on the list and map. Though I don’t know the woman well, I suspect fucking with her might lead to my death one day. Fairuza Yabo owns a temper that she clearly handed down to Pixie. The younger two seem mellow, but that might be from weeks of malnourishment and fear.
“While you ladies eat,” Conor announces, “I need to talk business with the big man outside.”
Bronco’s nephew charms the women so easily. Fairuza is mostly happy to know how the stove works—which I could have explained if they just woke me up. Pixie and her mother are very excited about the eventual death of John Marks. Pixie doesn’t really look at Conor any differently than she looked at Bronco and Lowell. I need to keep my jealousy in check.
On the other hand, what would Bronco do if Lana admired another man? How would he handle her leaving him or ripping out his fucking heart? Pixie claimed I look up to my president. Well, then shouldn’t I be, at least, as irrational as he would be in the same situation?
“I’m not interested in Pixie,” Conor says once we’re outside with the door shut. “She isn’t interested in me, either. You should have seen the look on her face when I was trying to talk my way into the house by explaining who I was.”
“I know all that.”
“Do you?”
“I know now,” I admit, shrugging. “So, what is the business you mentioned? We’re not just out here to talk about my feelings, are we?”
“No, but you were wearing the same look on your face as when you considered breaking Wyatt’s neck. I figured you ought to understand how I’m not your enemy.”
“I always
