I bite my tongue and direct my eyes back to the salad, a little too delighted to discover Ethan is grumpy in general and not just with me. I was right to dub him Dr. McBroody Pants, but it’s probably best not to share that with his sister.
Jake saunters over and grabs a strawberry from my bowl. “What are you two scheming over here?” he asks before popping it into his mouth.
“World domination, mostly,” Shay says.
“So, the usual.” He nods then turns his attention on me. “Are you having trouble keeping everyone straight?”
“Well, I’ve got Shay down,” I say, and she snorts in response.
Jake starts pointing out his brothers. “That’s Levi in the Colts jersey, fucking traitor. Carter’s the one in black, and Brayden’s the one who always looks like he just got off work at the bank.”
“Cool. So, if y’all could wear the same outfits every time I see you, I’ll be all set.”
“I run the bar,” Jake says. “And I’m the best-looking, so I’m easy to remember.”
Shay rolls her eyes. “You wish.” I can’t help but chuckle at their good-natured ribbing. “Jake is easy to remember because he’s the biggest nerd of them all. The girls all think he’s such a stud because he runs a bar, works out, and has tattoos. What they don’t realize is he wastes hours of his life playing video games, and has strong opinions on Marvel versus DC.” She holds up both hands and looks me in the eye. “I shit you not—he still plays Dungeons & Dragons with his buddies from high school.”
Smiling, I turn to Jake. “I had a boyfriend who played D&D once. It’s kind of fun.”
Jake shrugs, obviously confident enough to have his sister boil his entire personality down to “nerd.” “It keeps me young.”
“So, Jake’s the nerd,” I say to Shay. “What about the others?”
“Levi rides bikes for a living,” Shay says.
“You can do that for a living? Like, Tour de France?”
“No.” She giggles. “God no. That isn’t nearly cool enough for Levi. He rides motocross.” I’m not sure I even know what motocross is, but I don’t get to ask before she’s pointing to Carter. “Carter’s a firefighter. Brayden’s the one who runs the family business.” She lowers her voice and meets my gaze. “He’s very serious all the time.”
“What about you?” I ask. “What do you do?”
She smiles sweetly. “Whatever I want.”
“Shay’s a professional student,” Jake says. “She’s trying to see how long she can go without getting a real job.”
“Academia is a real job.” She smacks him on the chest before turning back to me. “I’m working on my PhD in American women’s literature. I’m actually finishing up my dissertation now.”
“Impressive,” I say. “I can’t imagine staying in school that long. I was never any good at it.”
Jake tries to steal another strawberry from the bowl. Shay smacks his hand away and turns to me. “Mom said you were working on a master’s degree, so you can’t be that bad at it.”
I give a shaky smile. It’s Veronica who’s started on her master’s in early childhood education. Kathleen must have shared that before she knew Veronica wasn’t coming. Before we hatched our plan for me to be a big fat liar.
“A master’s, and you’re working as a babysitter?” Jake says.
“Jesus, Jake,” Shay growls. “Don’t be a fucking dickhead!”
“Language!” Kathleen shouts from the dining room.
Shay lowers her voice. “Don’t be rude.”
“Sorry,” Jake says, wrinkling his nose. “I’m just surprised.”
“It’s okay,” I say, but then he reaches into my fruit bowl again, and I point to his hand with my knife. “But it’s not going to be okay if you keep stealing my fruit. That’s for dinner.”
He chuckles. “Now I see why Mom hired you.”
I turn the subject back to Shay. “What do you want to do when you finish your dissertation?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” her brother says.
“I’ll prepare future students to get their PhDs in literature so they can then prepare additional future students. It’s the circle of academic futility.” She grins. “And I’ll write shit occasionally and try to get it published.”
“You write novels?”
She pulls back, as if I just shoved a dead rodent in her face. “Hell no. I write papers critiquing books. And right now, I’m writing a book that’s essentially a compilation of papers critiquing books.”
“That sounds . . . intense.” It sounds like she’s way smarter than me. “If you could do that, I bet you could write anything.”
“Nah,” Shay says. “I just know myself, and this is the side of the creative dynamic I need to stay on.”
I scrape the last of the apples into the bowl just as Kathleen calls us for dinner. I grab my bowl of fruit salad and carry it to the table, where everyone’s already taking their seats.
“Nic, you can sit on that side by Ethan,” Kathleen says, pointing to two empty chairs across from her.