“Leave space for Jesus, kids.” Then, leaning down, he hissed at Jackson, “I’m not kidding. If you knock her up, I’ll geld you with the little spoon in the bowl of mustard.”
Jackson looked from him to the bowl and back again, nodding, but asked, “Why a spoon?”
“Because it’s dull, you idiot. It’ll hurt more.” Deciding that was incentive enough, Dad took Bronte out of my arms and walked away with her to go and see the birdies in the trees.
Ryan leaned across the table and beckoned at us to do the same. “Did he just quote Robin Hood?”
I nodded at the same time that Jackson said, “Dunno, never seen it.”
Everyone—and I mean everyone, including me—gaped at him.
“You’ve never seen Robin Hood?” Ryan asked, sounding like he was calling bullshit. When Jackson shook his head, he pressed, “The one with Kevin Costner in it?”
“Mmm, nope, I’ve not seen it. I’ve heard about it, and I watched the funny version when I was a kid, but I’ve never seen a real version of it.”
Ryan scoffed. “There’s only one real version of it worth watching, and that’s the Kevin Costner one.”
“There’s a scene where the sheriff takes Princess Marion to the tower, and she’s looking down at Robin Hood and screams his name. This one”—I gestured at my dad—“always screams it with her. He even does it during the music video for the soundtrack.”
“Ah, I love Bryan Adams,” Ronnie sighed, getting an enthusiastic head nod from Sadie.
“That song was great. There are some other songs he did that I like, but that one’s like the Aerosmith song from Armageddon. Timeless.”
Glancing back at Jackson, we both said at the same time, “Changed your mind yet?” and then burst out laughing.
On the one hand, at least our families were as weird as each other. On the other hand, our families were as weird as each other, which meant we’d never get normal.
Glaring at us both, one of the other brothers, Jesse, picked up a chip and stuck it in a bowl of hot sauce until it was drenched. “You guys are weird. That’s not funny, that’s just psycho.”
“Hey, we’re not psychos, we fit perfectly. I hit him in the balls, he runs me over with his truck and has to nurse me back. He then gets a concussion after getting clocked in the face by a bull on steroids because he’s desperate to get to me after I stormed away during an argument… What’s not perfectly suited about that? Of course we’re in sync.
“We’ve already lived through what most couples go through in a lifetime instead of a matter of months.” I said the only thing I could to defend us, which ended up doing the total opposite. Well, at least in the men's minds. For the women, it was romantic as hell.
Jesse, Webb, Marcus, his best friend Remy, Wesley, and Elijah, all said at the same time, “Psycho.”
But a new voice, one that I’d missed for months now, spoke behind us. “You never told me he tried to kill you with his truck. And you’re moving in with him?”
To anyone else, it might sound like a territorial comment, one born out of love. Well, it came from love, but it wasn’t a love like that. It was a familial love.
Screaming with excitement, I turned and saw my cousins Malcolm, Benny, and Gabby standing in a row behind me.
Malcolm and Benny were glaring at Jackson with their arms crossed over their chests, but Gabby was making a heart out of her hands and winked at me.
Just as I squeezed out from between the chairs, Benny asked loudly, “And can anyone explain why there’s a cat in that fucking tree with a helmet and sunglasses on?”
With his newfound freedom, my cat, who was a breed that should never be outside on his own, had turned into Houdini. The second there was a chance for him to make a bid for freedom, he took it.
There were benefits for a Siamese being outside, but they weren’t exactly brilliant when it came to ‘street sense’ and tended to get lost easily. They were also shit at roads and had less sense of self-preservation when it came to other animals than most cats.
The first thing the vet had told us about Milkshake when he’d had his first set of vaccinations was that they were more prone to picking up infectious diseases from other cats like feline leukemia and feline AIDS.
It was terrifying letting him roam around the yard, and I watched him like a hawk whenever he was out here, but the little bugger had always loved the backyard here, and was determined to enjoy the heck out of it every chance he got.
Like now, with the helmet and glasses he wanted on all the time. Up a tree.
“Milkshake, get your ass down here now,” Sam yelled as we all watched.