“Hey.” Uncle Steve’s grin was slow and wide. “Get in here. Give me a look at you all.” His dark gaze narrowed a fraction as it flicked over Harper and settled on Wyatt. “Hey, little man. You grew up!”
Wyatt shrank back, his eyes wide and his fingers still jammed in his mouth.
Uncle Steve looked to Justin. “What’s this one again?”
“What?”
Uncle Steve rolled his eyes. “What is he? He’s got something in him, doesn’t he?”
Justin felt sick when he realized what his uncle was asking. “I…I think his dad was part Mexican.”
Uncle Steve grunted. “And this is the new one, huh?” Uncle Steve stared blearily at Scarlett. “She looks all right. Hey, little princess!”
Justin forced a smile to cover for the kids’ fear. “They’re pretty tired. I’m gonna put them to bed. Have you eaten?” He was falling so easily into old patterns. Distract, distract, distract. “I think there are some eggs in the refrigerator. I could make you an omelet.”
Uncle Steve gave a lazy smile. “You’re a good kid, Justin.”
Justin ushered the kids out of the room.
Distract, distract, distract
* * * *
Justin woke early—his eyes snapped open the moment the sunlight hit the windows of the living room. He was stiff from sleeping on the couch, and it took him a while to sit, and a while longer to strand and stretch his aching muscles. He could hear Uncle Steve snoring, and he slipped out into the hallway to check the door to the kids’ room. It was still shut, but Justin opened it a crack and peered inside. They were all sleeping still, even Scarlett. Justin pulled the door shut softly and headed for the kitchen.
The kitchen was still a mess from Uncle Steve’s party the other night, with bottles and cans and overflowing ashtrays everywhere. One of the cabinet doors had been ripped off. Justin found a garbage bag under the sink and set about cleaning up as quietly as he could, even though the clink of glass against glass in the garbage bag made his heart skip a beat. He stood there and held his breath until he heard Uncle Steve’s next loud snore.
He wished he’d woken up in Del’s bed instead. He wished he was in Del’s kitchen, that large, welcoming room that was the heartbeat of Del’s house, instead of this one. It would be so easy to grab the kids and take them over there now, except…
Except what would happen when Uncle Steve came looking?
Justin’s stomach clenched at the thought, and he swallowed down a wave of nausea. Nineteen years old, and he was still terrified of Uncle Steve. Then again, what were the chances he’d actually got less violent while in prison? Maybe prison was the sort of place that helped some people rehabilitate and learn new ways to live their lives, but Uncle Steve had only ever come out harder and angrier.
Justin poured himself a juice from the refrigerator and sat at the kitchen table to drink it.
It was okay. He’d get himself and the kids through this weekend, and then he’d regroup or something. Reassess. Maybe take another look at his finances and see if he could afford rent on a place somewhere in town, closer to work. And then, in a few months, he wouldn’t feel as indebted to Del, and Del wouldn’t feel as obligated to help him with everything, and they could work it out from there.
Justin was…
Justin was in lovewith Del, and it was as big and terrifying a thing as anything else that had ever happened in his life, including the kids. He was in love with Del, and he didn’t want to mess it up. He wanted to prove to Del, and to himself, that he didn’t need saving, while at the same time he also wanted to run over to Del’s place now and tell him everything and never leave again. But Justin didn’t get to be a scared kid anymore. He didn’t want to be one. He wanted to be the sort of partner a man like Del deserved, not just another O’Dwyer kid he took under his wing. Because Del deserved better than that.
By the time the kids wandered out for breakfast, Justin had finished his juice and felt like maybe if he could get through this weekend it would all work out.
* * * *
By Sunday, Justin was desperate to get the kids out of the house. His car wouldn’t start again, so Justin found Scarlett’s rickety stroller and he and the kids set off toward town for a picnic. There was no nearby park, and Wyatt only had short little legs, so they ended up a mile or so down the road, on a little piece of vacant land, and ate their peanut butter sandwiches there.