Door unlocked. Chesty ordered out of the room. Door relocked.
There was a freedom in knowing that they’d already committed to marriage. That he’d seen her at her heavily armed and pissed off mode. That he’d met her brothers all in their heavily armed and pissed off mode. That he’d seen her channel her father’s ghost. That he’d seen her eat, and cry, and deal with inner demons. That he accepted her at her very worst. There was no need for her to hide any part of her life. She could be wholly herself without fear of turning him off.
It surprised her how aggressive it made her. She felt safe enough to take the lead in finding out what they both liked.
She had always wondered why people went on and on about sex. For the first time, she understood how good it could be to be so open and intimate and honest with another human being.
“I think I’m going to like being married to you a lot,” she murmured on the edge of sleep.
“I know I’m going to love it. You’re wonderful.” He laughed sleepily. “I’m kind of amazed by your mother. I was worried that she wouldn’t want someone like me as a son-in-law. I’ve never seen anyone look so happy before.”
“What do you mean? Someone like you?”
He put his bronzed hand on her upper arm. “Most people don’t see me as white.”
“Hm.” She had thought he was merely very tanned but now that she glanced down over him, she realized that he didn’t have any noticeable tan lines. Either he sunbathed nude, or he was naturally dark skinned. “I’m just ridiculously pale. Really. In winter I’m as white as Boo. Besides I’m twenty-six. She was starting to worry that I was gay.” Which made her think of Geoffrey. “She’s probably not going to be okay with Snapdragon. I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t do anything. I mean, your mother and Geoffrey are both adults. They have to work their way through this on their terms. You’re not going to be able to change either one of them.”
“Are you an only child?”
“No. But I’m the baby of the family. One of the many reasons I left Hawaii was because my older brothers and sisters were always trying to tell me how to I should live my life. Everything from I should focus more on our culture, to not taking Journalism in college, to not taking a job on the mainland, to not going into the middle east to cover the war. Okay, so they might have been right about the war part, but I needed to learn that for myself. I didn’t listen to them. I didn’t want to listen to them. If I had listened to them, I wouldn’t have been happy because they wanted me to do things that would make them happy. It’s hard to see your sibling as a wholly separate person who has radically different needs to make them complete. When your older brother or sister keeps trying to ‘fix’ things simply because they’re a few months older than you, it gets extremely frustrating. You start to put distance between you and them every time they treat you like a child.”
“So you think I should act like my mom and my little brother are some strangers squabbling over their private life?”
He squinted. “I’m trying to decide if the truth is going to get me kicked out of bed.”
She laughed. “No. I want to know what you think. Honestly. I might totally ignore your advice but I want to know.”
“If your brother asks for help, champion him to the hilt. Until he asks, let him run his life how he wants to live it.”
Three Rivers Queen. Day Two.
Jane missed how the conversation started. She’d been focused on shifting their gear from the production trucks and making sure they were secure. She came on board to hear Roach say “Red beret? No. You don’t want a lame hat like that. Hey, Andy, give me your hat!”
“Just shut up about the damn hat!” Andy cried from below deck.
“Andy!” Roach shouted.
Andy came stomping up from below, flung his hat at Roach, and yelled, “I said I’m sorry already!” He stomped away.
Roach ignored his little brother. He picked up the hat and dusted it off. It was a wide-brimmed boonie similar in style to the standard military-issued jungle hat that Jane wore. Andy’s was Wind Clan blue instead of camo print. “See, it’s even the right color.”
“I was hoping for black and gold.” Hal sounded dubious.
“But this gets your fans allied with the elves,” Roach put it on and attempted to make it look stylish. Despite its military roots, the hat utterly failed to be impressive. He waved a hand toward Jane instead. “See, combat ready.”
Hal glanced at Jane. The doubt receded as he realized that the limp blue thing was similar in style to Jane’s. “It’s workable. I suppose we could tailor mine so it reads better for the camera.”
Jane couldn’t imagine anything could be done to the boonie to make it more stylish but said nothing. “What’s the deal with the hats?”
“I have ten thousand of them,” Roach said.
“Ten thousand?” Jane and Hal both exclaimed. There were only sixty thousand humans in the whole city.
“I let Andy handle ordering them. The idea was something like the Terrible Towel. All the Team Tinker fans would have the same hat and they could wave them in the stands during the race.”
“Terrible Towel?” Nigel was British. There was no way he would know about something that died off when he was eight. Pittsburghers held on tight to things that no longer existed.
Jane explained ancient history. “All the Pittsburgh professional sports teams had black and gold as their colors. Football was the Steelers. Baseball was the Pirates. Hockey was Penguins. At some point, back before my mom was born, the Steeler fans came up with this yellow towel with ‘the terrible towel’ written on it that they wave during games to cheer on their team.”
“It was the first rally towel,” Roach said proudly. “Our grandfather has one of the original ones hanging on his game room wall signed by Terry Bradshaw.” Nigel obviously didn’t recognize the name.
“Local football god,” Jane said.
“Four Superbowl championships!” Roach added.
“What is this design?” Jane pointed to something that vaguely looked like a hashtag mark in the center of the hat’s crown.
“It’s supposed to say Team Tinker,” he shouted the words.
“How many times do I have to say ‘I’m sorry’?” Andy shouted back from below deck.
“I order stuff online during Shutdown all the time. You put in a batch order during one Shutdown and take delivery during the next. The team T-shirts, our racing leathers, the helmets, the whole nine yards. I’ve never had a problem, so I thought Numbnuts could handle it. He screwed the whole order up. He exported the wrong artwork and ordered a hundred times what I told him to order!”
Roach shouted the last part.
“I’m freaking sorry!” Andy shouted back.
“Then all the bullshit with Tinker happened,” Roach continued. “Oilcan is acting as our anchor rider, but he’s not as good as Tink is. She’s fearless. It’s like she’s got eyes in the back of her head or something. If you see her suddenly duck and run, you just go, don’t stand there wondering why. Shit is about the hit the fan.” His voice got rough and he turned away. “Fuck,” he whispered. He wiped at his face. “Sorry. We started to hang out with her and Oilcan when Tink was ten. At first it was like ‘why do you need to bring your baby cousin with you?’ but she shows up, driving this go cart like a bat out of hell, and goes ‘hey, we could turn that pile of wood into a trebuchet.’ We spent the rest of day flinging rocks half a mile across the landfill. It was fucking awesome. Eight years of watching her grow up. Watching out for her. Keeping her safe. And then she’s gone. It’s like Boo all over again.”
“She — she’ll be okay.” Jane caught herself before saying something that would make him realize that she knew more than she was telling. “She’s crazy smart and has eyes in the back of her head. The oni are the ones that are going to get the short end of that stick.”