Busted (16 page)

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Authors: Zachary O'Toole

BOOK: Busted
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"You don't
have
to drink my beer if you don't like it," Steve said.

 

 

 

"Sure I do. What kind of a brother in law would I be if I left swill like this for you to drink?"

 

 

 

"A sober one?"

 

 

 

"Drunk on this stuff? Hah!"

 

 

 

Joe gave a wry smile and passed a bottle of beer to Mike. He stowed the rest in the cooler sitting in its customary spot next to the grill.

 

 

 

"Who's not here?" Joe asked.

 

 

 

"Chris, of course," Mike answered. "That's who you were looking for."

 

 

 

"Using your amazing psychic powers again?" Steve asked.

 

 

 

Mike laughed. "Like you weren't thinking the same thing."

 

 

 

"Yeah, but I'm a detective. We notice things. Your third eye needs glasses."

 

 

 

"You're just jealous that you haven't reached a higher state of being."

 

 

 

"Better not go drive in that higher state," Steve said, miming taking a drag on something. "We test for it these days."

 

 

 

Mike casually flipped Steve off.

 

 

 

"Am I still not mentioning Ho Hos?" Joe asked, eyeing the pair of them.

 

 

 

"No," Steve said solemnly. "Nor Belgium."

 

 

 

Joe decided to play along. He picked the bottle up off the table and made an exaggerated check of the label. "Well, then, I better take the beer back."

 

 

 

"No, no," Mike said hastily, snatching the bottle out of Joe’s hands and cradling it like a baby. "Belgium is fine. We like Belgium."

 

 

 

Joe just grinned at him and put the potato salad on the table.

 

 

 

"Going to go swimming this time?" Steve asked.

 

 

 

"Dunno, maybe," Joe said. He was a little hesitant. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be in the pool when Chris was around. He hadn't worn the Speedos this time, and any reaction he had to the man would be far too clear.

 

 

 

"Best do it before it starts raining," Steve said, looking up at the grey clouds gathering in the sky. "Forecast is for thunderstorms later."

 

 

 

Before Steve could answer he felt a tug at his shirt. He turned and saw Toby standing next to him, holding a soccer ball.

 

 

 

"Are you my Uncle Joe?" Toby asked.

 

 

 

Joe was taken aback. He looked at Steve and Mike for help, but they looked as surprised as he did. Joe was dating his Dad's twin. They hadn't made it official, but it was pretty close. Good enough, he decided.

 

 

 

"Uh, I suppose I am. Pleased to meet you," he said, holding his hand out to shake.

 

 

 

Toby shook it.

 

 

 

"Do you know my Uncle Alex?"

 

 

 

"Yeah, I do, sport," Joe said. He felt a dopey grin spread across his face. "Has he talked about me?"

 

 

 

"I haven't met him yet."

 

 

 

Joe was surprised at that. Chris hadn't said anything about Alex to Steve, as far as Joe knew. He didn't think Chris had told Toby. Kids just said things, as he was finding out. Maybe it was something new, since he knew things were out in the open now that Joe was around.

 

 

 

"We'll have to introduce you sometime," Joe said. In the background he heard Steve almost choke on his beer.

 

 

 

"Do you kiss him like you kissed my Papa?"

 

 

 

"I don't think I've ever kissed anyone like I've kissed your Papa," Joe said before he could stop himself. He wasn't sure how you talked about things like this with kids. He wasn't even sure if you did talk about things like this with kids. He was definitely sure he didn't want to think about how he'd kissed Toby's Papa. Not in the shorts he was wearing, at least.

 

 

 

"Hey," he said. "I see you've got a soccer ball. I used to play. Want to kick it around some?"

 

 

 

Toby lit up with that. "Yeah!"

 

 

 

Joe stood up. "C'mon, then," he said. "Let's go."

 

 

 

The two of them jogged out to the grass on the other side of the pool.

 

 

 

"He's going to make that kid a good dad," Mike said absently.

 

 

 

"Yeah, I think he is," Steve replied.

 

 

 

"Toby usually that good with new people?" Mike had known Toby since he'd been born and the boy was still reserved around him. He usually hid, or kept his distance, from people he didn't know.

 

 

 

"Nope," Steve said. "Never."

 

 

 

* * *

 

Joe and Toby kicked the soccer ball around for an hour before they were interrupted by a clap of thunder. The promised storms were coming, and they were bringing lightning in their wake.

 

 

 

"Guess it's time to head inside, Toby," Joe said.

 

 

 

"'Kay, Uncle Joe."

 

 

 

Joe was glad for the excuse. He kept in shape, hitting the gym three days a week, but after an hour chasing around wild kicks and diving after the ball he was ready to drop. Little kids were nuclear powered, he decided. Toby was ready to go another hour. At least.

 

 

 

Toby took Joe's hand and the two of them walked back to the house. Steve's kids had already gotten out of the pool, and everyone was gathering up things to take inside. The grill had been shut down, and the cooler moved.

 

 

 

"Need a hand?" Joe asked.

 

 

 

Steve smiled. "Looks like yours are already full. We're good, thanks."

 

 

 

Mary was giving Joe an odd look. He couldn't read her well, and it was making him a little uncomfortable. She seemed okay, and from what Steve had said she certainly didn't have a problem with him being gay, but he wasn't sure if she actually approved of him personally. He wasn't sure why he cared, either, but he did.

 

 

 

"Looks like your side-kick projection didn't work too well," Steve said to Mike as he lowered the umbrella. "Had to do all the work ourselves. Maybe your projector needs a new bulb."

 

 

 

"That's
psychic
projection, and it works just fine," Mike said. "The only dim bulb around here is you."

 

 

 

Steve looked around. "I don't see any projections, Oh Enlightened One."

 

 

 

Mike tried to look haughty, but the chagrin spoiled it. "Not one of my talents," he said.

 

 

 

"Ah. You can't project to steal beer. Gotcha."

 

 

 

"Uncle Joe." Toby tugged on his hand. "I wanna play Candyland."

 

 

 

Steve looked surprised. "Now I am impressed," he said. "That's Toby's favorite game."

 

 

 

"C'mon,
please
…." Toby said. He pulled harder on Joe.

 

 

 

"Okay, sport," Joe said. "You'll have to teach me how to play, though."

 

 

 

"Everybody knows how to play Candyland, Uncle Joe," he said. The look on his face made Joe think he figured Joe was a little dim.

 

 

 

"Well, it's been a while," Joe hedged. "Remind me."

 

 

 

Toby took Joe’s hand and pulled him inside. The kitchen was full of people getting things put away. There was food on the table, the fruits of Steve's labor at the grill, along with what was left of Joe's potato salad and a bag of chips.

 

 

 

"Why don't we get something to eat? I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

 

 

 

Toby nodded, a big grin on his face. Joe took a pair of paper plates and loaded them up with chicken, chips, and salad. He didn't know how much little kids ate, but he knew he was famished. Toby was a wiry little kid, so he wasn't worried that a few extra chips would do him any harm.

 

 

 

"Candyland," Toby said as he started towards the front of the house.

 

 

 

"I don't think we should eat out there," Joe said. He wasn't sure how Mary felt about food out of the kitchen. He was sure he didn't want to find out the hard way.

 

 

 

"It's fine, Joe."

 

 

 

He jumped at that. Mary had come in at some point, but he hadn't noticed.

 

 

 

"You startled me," he said. It sounded kind of stupid, but it was certainly true.

 

 

 

She smiled. "I get that a lot. The games are in the closet by the front door."

 

 

 

"Flip on the TV, would you Joe? There's a monster movie marathon on AMC," Mike asked as he walked past. He had a handful of beach towels.

 

 

 

"Jeez, you'd think he lived here," Steve said as he closed the patio door.

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