Page 2 of Roundabout

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Before I can even kill the engine, Beck’s brand-new Suburban High Country is already pulling in right behind me and parking next to my Camaro ZL1. He probably spotted me heading this way and invited himself right over. His twins, Terra and Harley, practically lunge out of the silver SUV, and jet straight for my driver’s door, yelling, “Uncle Coty! Uncle Coty!” from the other side of the window. They have way too much energy, just like their dad.

Marc approaches us carrying his daughter, Blaze, and I give him a can you believe this? expression through the windshield. Smirking, he just shakes his head at me.

We see each other’s families almost every single day but the kids always act like it’s been months, if not longer. The younger ones anyway. The older ones…they’re over us already. As long as we chauffeur their asses around, they’re okay being in our company, otherwise not so much. For Hunter being an official high schooler now, he’s not too bad, I guess, but Rebel… She’s too busy running with her group of friends to hang with us anymore.

It’s sad, how fast our street cred fades. We used to run shit, now we just run our kids around to their own shit.

At least we still have nice rides.

After unbuckling Jace from his car seat in the back, I help him climb over the center console, on to my lap, then slowly, we get out, careful not to clip one of Beck’s kids with the door. Terra immediately takes Jace from my hands, walking him over to Marc and Blaze. Harley sticks around awkwardly like he’s too cool all of a sudden, so I ruffle his light brown hair, hugging his head into my side.

Beck’s the last to join us, and as usual, he’s wearing one of his biker shirts, this one reading I hate being sexy, but I’m a biker, so I can’t help it and I wonder what his wife said when he put it on this morning. Dude is asking for unwanted attention with that statement.

“What’s up?” Beck asks with only his hands.

Since Blaze is here, everybody switches to signing. We all made the collective decision to learn sign language a little over five and a half years ago when Marc’s little girl was born deaf.

I release Harley’s head to answer, “Just here for the goats.”

“Goats,” Jace says by making a fist while crooking two fingers and tapping his chin then his forehead. Goats might’ve been his first word to ever sign. These goats are like magic. I knew calming goats were a thing for racehorses, but I never would’ve guessed they worked on kids, too. I’d have some over on my property if I thought they’d leave my produce alone. Since they seem to eat anything and everything, I leave the animals to Marc. I’ve got the crops, including the pumpkin patch we gave all the kids a hayride around earlier this month before letting them pick and decorate pumpkins; Marc’s got the petting zoo and racetrack we all visit whenever we feel like it; and Beck’s got the pool everybody swims in all summer long.

Terra and Harley each take one of Jace’s hands, leading him over to the goat pen.

“Okay, not to be dramatic—”

My eyes are already rolling. Beck’s main mission in life is to be as dramatic as possible.

“—but who the…” Beck drops his hands and mouths the word “fuck” before continuing signing, “…stinks? It better not be one of my kids.”

How can he even tell it’s coming from one of the humans? We’re right next to a goat pen.

Blaze removes the arm around her dad’s neck to ask “What?” with both hands.

I hit the back of Beck’s head, then tell him, “Good job.” By not signing it, Beck thought Blaze wouldn’t catch the bad word he was using, but he forgets our niece can lip-read, too, and now he’s got her curious about the word her uncle just mouthed.

He does it to himself, I swear.

Marc says, “Silly,” using a fist with his thumb and pinky sticking out and wiggling it in front of his face.

Beck repeats the motion to Blaze, agreeing, “Funcle’s silly.” Funcle doesn’t translate in ASL exactly, so he just uses the sign for uncle of his pointer and middle fingers up by his temple, but we all know what he means. There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t go out of his way to remind everyone just how fun of an uncle he is.

He says, “Don’t use that word,” with a blanching expression, then, “That’s my word.” He grabs her from Marc’s hold and tickles her while giving her face a dozen kisses.

Blaze’s laughs don’t really make a lot of sound, but damn, are they fun to watch.

Even the kids know to sign all their words around their cousin, but Beck…will always be Beck and try to bend the rules so he can act a fucking fool.

“Aunt says it,” she says once Beck’s done. Blaze’s dark brown, almost black, hair is the only feature she seems to have inherited from Marc. Her face, including her blue-green eyes, are almost an exact carbon copy of her mom’s. Through those eyes, she watches the world, understanding it in ways others can’t even grasp.

Beck’s eyebrows lift as he passes her over to me so he can ask, “Aunt Paige?”

Blaze nods.

“Aunt Paige is gonna get a spanking,” Beck says.

Marc and I both groan. Too far.