Page 37 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Jet narrowed his eyes at her. “LPs?”

“Real vinyl and everything.”

“Why would that be better than digital?”

“Oh, honey.” She heaved a dramatic sigh and twisted her mouth, looking to Myles for support. “This music you like”—she pointed to his phone—“AC/DC, Mötley Crüe, all that old stuff. It was made to be listened to on vinyl. Anything else is a cheap imitation. Or Pink Floyd.”

“The Wall?” Jet asked, a note of interest in his voice.

Stephanie grinned at him. “Dark Side of the Moon. Listen to that one front to back. On vinyl. You’ll see. So much better when you listen to it how the band meant it to be listened to.”

“Uncle Myles?” Jet turned sharp attention on him.

“Not in your PJs. Go get dressed.”

Jet scooted out of the booth and just about dashed towards the stairs, remembering halfway across the room that he was meant to be a slouching teen and slowing his pace.

“Haven’t seen him that interested in anything in a long time,” Myles said. “Thank you.”

Stephanie shrugged. “Thank me again after you pay for them,” she suggested.

“If it gets his head out of his phone and his mind off the not-so-great friends he left behind, I’ll pay.”

“I’m dressed, Uncle My-my. Can I go now?” Shelly asked.

“You have to actually eat something.” He curled a lip at the soggy mess on her plate. “Do you happen to have peanut butter and bananas?” he asked Stephanie. “I know it isn’t exactly gourmet.”

She patted his shoulder. “No worries. Changes can be tough, can’t they, honey?” she asked Shelly, who nodded sage agreement.

Myles tucked a stray hair behind Shelly’s ear. “Frankly, I thought this whole idea would be a lot harder for you, Shell.”

Shelly shrugged and picked up a crayon, proceeding to colour on her paper placemat. “It’s an adventure.”

That made Myles snort. “Apparently an eight-day drive across the country, that’s fine. Pancakes that don’t come from a box? Not so much.”

“They’re weird,” Shelly said, still focused on her colouring.

“We’ll get you sorted,” Stephanie promised. “And before I forget, Kreed wanted me to tell you he ordered dog food because he noticed when he was helping unload the car that the kind you had isn’t available locally, so he had it delivered along with his kitty litter from the place he uses in the city.”

“He didn’t have to do that.”

“All part of the service. And he also told me to tell you if you want, you can let the dog out of your room. The cat should be fine, and if she isn’t, she’ll just go next door, and he’ll warn you whenever Rod is coming over with Scratch so they can go in the yard and get the zoomies out ahead of Rod’s shift.”

“Again—”

“This is what he does, sweetie. Boutique service, and he’s always fully booked, so he’s obviously doing something right.”

“I just don’t want him to feel like he has to cater to me or the kids. Or the dog, for that matter. If we’re going to be a nuisance, we can stay someplace else.”

“This is what that man lives for.”

“I can see how Lucky is perfect for him, in that case.”

“Peas in a pod. Now, I’m going to go get your little munchkin some comfort food and pack up some food for my recluse brother. Back in a jiff.”

While Myles and Shelly waited, his gaze drifted back to Steven on his porch.

Stephanie had called him a recluse. Was it as simple as that? Myles remembered him steeling himself to walk out of the house into his own secluded backyard and wondered.