Page 91 of Joey

“You,” he says. “That story.”

“You don’t think he heard any of that, do you?” I ask.

Wald glances to the sunroom and says, “No. There are no windows open.”

“But hold on,” Huck says. “Who shut the front door?”

“What are you talking about? I ask.

“I was the last one through,” Huck says. “I left it open because I was gonna get more boxes from the truck, but then…” He looks at Brooke and smiles. “I got sidetracked on Memory Lane.”

“Shit,” I say, looking at Wald. “He’s right. When I came upstairs it was open. I was gonna close it, but… I got sidetracked too.”

Wald grins a little, probably remembering how sidetracked I was, but then frowns. “So…”

“He was listening,” I say. “He heard everything.”

“Shit. He came to the door. Probably heard us,” Huck says.

“He waited,” I say. “Heard us fucking. Hell, maybe he watched? Then he closed the door and pretended to knock.”

“Maybe not,” Brooke says. “I was looking out the window as the sun went down. I didn’t see anyone in the front yard.”

“I mean… look,” Wald says. “There’s no way he didn’t figure out we just fucked, OK? So whatever. We go up to the estate, we act like gentlemen, and we pass their little parental exam. How hard can it be? We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Huck agrees. “So what, anyway? They can’t tell us what we mean to each other. Fuck them.”

“I don’t disagree, Huck. It’s just… this might be my only chance to get to have my daughter in my life without some long, bitter court battle. And all I did today was think about me. And us. And… fuck.” I take a breath. Because I need one. “I really didn’t think about her at all.”

“Everything you did today was about her,” Wald says.

“Uh, no,” I say. “That fucking foursome we just had had absolutely nothing to do with Maisy.”

“It has everything to do with her,” Wald argues.

“How do you figure?” I ask him.

“Because whatever,” Huck says. “Maybe that Parker asshole is right? Maybe we do all need to be there? Maybe this is how it should’ve been from the start.”

“If you and I were gay, Huck, that would probably fly. Or Wald and I. But no one thinks that us with her is normal.”

“I do.” Huck shrugs. “It’s just… whatever.”

“People don’t think that way. You’re not that clueless that you can’t see that.”

“Who cares what they think?” Huck asks.

“They hired psychologists! What the fuck do you think is gonna happen when they start asking us about our living arrangements?”

“So you want us to move out?” Wald says.

“No,” I say. “No.”

“Then what is your point?” Wald asks.

“I… don’t know. Just… I don’t know.” This whole time Brooke has said nothing. So I say, “What do you think? Do you think we should lie?”

“Lie?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “Lie about what? That we like each other?”