Tilt (69 page)

he says.
But before we begin,

Leah and I have an announcement.

He looks at Gram, who says,
We

made an offer on a little house

and five acres in Pleasant Valley.

It’s a short sale and they’re anxious.

We hope to be in before Christmas.

It’s a sweet little place,
adds Gramps.

We like it because it’s halfway between

Reno and Carson. Equidistant to our

girls and our brilliant grandkids.

“Brilliant, huh? I don’t know for

sure, Harley,” I say, “but I think

he’s fishing for help with the moving.”

Gramps smiles.
Not only brilliant,

but intuitive. Andrea, pick a song.

She Asks for “White Christmas”

And, though Gramps does his best

to rock it out, it’s hard to get past

sounding too much like Bing Crosby.

I move stealthily toward the back

of the room. “I’m going to check

on Gaga,” I explain to no one at all.

I am halfway down the hall when

footsteps fall in behind me.
Who’s

Gaga?
asks Harley, with Chad in tow.

Damn. Almost got away. “She’s my

kitten.” Oops. Mistake. I should

have said my vicious Rottweiler.

Really? I didn’t know you had a cat.

I thought . . . Oh. Well, can we meet

her? I’m not much for caroling.

What can I do but let them in?

Gaga is in her usual pillow palace,

purring and burping up turkey.

Harley plops down beside her.

Oh, she’s so adorable. Where

did you get her? I want a kitten!

I tell her Alex could probably

pull one out from under a sagebrush

for her. And that reminds me,

“I need to call my boyfriend. Put

on some music if you want.” Chad

goes over to my iPod dock as I reach

for my cell. I dial Alex, who answers

right away, but can’t talk, except

to say,
I love you. See you tomorrow?

After my too-quick goodbye, I notice

a text from Lucas. Probably wants to

sell me some weed. But, no. It’s a pic.

Of a naked girl.
Look familiar?

On closer inspection, she does. Oh,

my God. “Uh, Harley. Is this you?”

Chad

Naked Girl Pics

Delivered randomly

to my cell phone are generally

fine by me. Oh yes,

I

got this one, too, at pretty

much the same time, which

means it’s a blanket send, I

think.

Last I heard, Harley and Lucas

were still a thing, which disturbs

me deeply. What does

she

see in him? I did try to warn

her that he is not the nicest

guy, and that he obviously

has

an agenda. She told me not

to worry, that she understands

his motivation, but that it’s not

a problem

because she’s got a handle

on things. I’d say she totally

underestimated him.

Harley

What Is His Problem?

How could Lucas do this to me?

Not only did he get me to take

those pictures, but he actually

sent one of them to people I know?

Including my cousin and almost

stepbrother? “Delete it! Now!

Please?” On second thought,

“Wait. Let me answer it.”

I text him back:
REALLY CUTE

PIC. THANKS FOR SHARING. DID

YOU KNOW THIS IS MY COUSIN?

How many people did the jerk

send this to? His whole address

book? Must be, otherwise why

would Shane have gotten it?

Holy cow. Did he send it to girls,

too? I’m fricking dying here.

Wait. He’s friends with Chad.

I glance over at him, and his

expression tells me. “You, too?”

He nods.
Me, too. Sorry. Want

me to kick his ass?
He looks as

embarrassed as I feel—all purple

faced and fidgety. Poor guy.

Poor guy? What about me?

Unreasonably, laughter bubbles

out around the sob stuck in

my throat. Why am I laughing?

Shane and Chad exchange

terrified looks. “I’m crazy, aren’t

I? But don’t worry. I won’t hurt

you. Pretty sure I won’t, anyway.

Lucas, on the other hand . . .

well, if he turns up dead, you won’t

testify against me, will you?” I need

to call him. Make him explain.

It’s Thanksgiving, but he seems

to have an abundance of time

on his hands. “I have to talk to him.

Can you give me a few minutes?”

Shane Nods at Chad

Who follows him toward the door.

When it opens, comforting scents spill

in, and familiar voices, singing

“Little Drummer Boy.” I could lie right

here in Shane’s bed, close my eyes,

fall asleep with Gaga purring in my ear.

But that wouldn’t change things. So

I go ahead and call Lucas, mostly hoping

he doesn’t bother to pick up. He does.

“Uh. . .  hi.” Why do I want to chicken

out? “Hey. What’s up with you sending

those pics around? Did I do something?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.
No, babe.

It’s just I’m so proud of you being mine.

I wanted to show off my amazing girl.

You’re not really mad at me, are you?

He Wanted to Show Me Off!

How can I possibly be mad about

that? Except, “You know you sent

them to some of my relatives, right?”

People who’ve seen you naked before?

“Uh, not really. Well, maybe when

I was a baby or something.” Or worse,

when I was a chubby little kid.

They’re probably impressed then.

At least Chad never saw me naked

and fat. “It was pretty embarrassing,

Lucas. Did you know Shane is my cousin?”

Gay Shane? Huh. Well, he won’t care.