The Impact

Chapter 39

"Our day in review, both of our sons got suspended from school for excellent reasons---"

"But I got one out of it," I point out.

"But you got one of it, our daughter is the only child who can stay in school and she got an A on a spelling test---"

"The daughter we most recently adopted cleaned the house."

"And the dog still hasn't eaten anyone," Peter says just to annoy me.

"Yet," I say, watching Lydia play with the thing suspiciously.

"Win?" he asks.

"Definitely better than a draw," I say, raising my water bottle to his wine glass. He's cooking, I'm sitting on the counter watching and getting in the way. That's a remarkably soothing pastime.

"Ian still with Dashiell?" he asks.

"Yeah, she'll be by in a minute she says, he liked the car, so good," I say.

"You don't mind it having belonged to a cop?" Peter asks.

"A general cop is different, that particular cop was weird beyond normal," I say.

"Weird literally means beyond normal," Peter informs me.

"Whatever, I give up talking to you when you're going to be overly literate," I say.

"Good," he says, kissing me.

"Get a room---I get to say it this time," Dashiell says, walking in.

"Leave my house," I mumble past Peter's lips.

"I'm just going to my room," Ian says.

"Probably best----how's Parker?" Dashiell asks, not leaving.

"No idea, forgot she was here, why?" I ask, leaning back on the counter to look at her.

"Ian said she was feeling poorly and I know you make her do random chores," Dashiell says.

"He does and she's fine," Peter says.

"She just sort of lives here, and she's not ours," I defend myself.

"Yeah, on that note, Edmund wants to bring a not-boyfriend platonic friend over on the grounds Ian gets to keep Parker and I couldn't argue with it," Peter says.

"Platonic friend literally means not boyfriend right?" Dashiell asks.

"Yeah, he didn't know that," Peter says.

"Yeah, I didn't know that," I say.

"So I said it," Peter says.

"That's why he said it," I say.

"Edmund's right you two do need to be taken for testing---okay, good, Ian was concerned about her so that's why I asked, is Edmund's not boyfriend anything be worried about?" Dashiell asks.

"No, it's nice he has a friend other than the big slimy spider," Peter says.

"Did you tell me about this?" I ask.

"Yes," he says, in his obvious voice.

"Okay, I forgot, don't tell me it sounds upsetting," I say. I'd just like some peace and quiet for a while. Other than the fact that Ian and I aren't quite normal after what happened. We're here. We're okay. the apocalypse isn't happening. Edmund is here and safe. I really want us to be okay and have boring for a while. Peter cooking dinner and me kissing him and distracting him general. The kids doing their homework. Dashiell bringing her cop boyfriend to the house, okay---

"Geoffrey, I told you to wait in the car," Dashiell says like he's a naughty dog.

"Yeah, your phone started ringing," the picture of modern American normalcy, with roguish good looks, designer clothing, a five o'clock shadow which I'm sure is intentional and not a child-induced-oversight (that's a thing. Have a kid or three and then get back to me) like mine is, a little on the short side but Dashiell isn't on the tall side. Articulate with good teeth. Obviously, that's a bonus or Peter wouldn't be in this horrible, horrible story.

"Thank you um---this is my---" Dashiell's thinking of words that don't involve

'fellow meth dealer'.

"Gay best friend, and my husband Peter, our kids are spread out somewhere you may see one of them," I say, nodding as Edmund and his platonic male friend run down the stairs one of them leaping behind a sofa, both bearing Nerf guns. I have too much of an affinity for weapons and too much of a fear of child molesters to banish them outside to play with the things. "The red headed one isn't ours we inherited him," I say because even though it's not important it distinctly doesn't have to do with dealing meth.

"Nice to meet you," Geoffrey says, shaking my hand awkwardly, which I extended. It's awkward because I'm left-handed and I used to shake with my right to make easier, but Peter has a three hour speech on not accommodating for people's prejudices and he's kinda right if you think about it which after the first two and a half hours in I realized I had to. So. I shake with my left. Geoffrey's eyes take note of the tattoos on my knuckles and snaking up my wrist, but he says nothing. Despite the warm weather I'm wearing a long sleeved turtle neck, which makes me look more suburban and normal.

"I'd say something like take care of her or else, but she's the or else," I say.

"Yeah, this is lovely, Geoff, we'd better get dinner before your shift, goodbye," Dashiell drags him to the door.

"Thanks for letting our son buy the car," Peter says, finally washing his hands but Geoffrey is too far away to shake properly.

"Oh yeah, no problem, happy to help a young person out," he says, as Dashiell physically removes him.

"Okay, goodbye," Dashiell says.

"I'll text you," I tell her.

"I know you will," she mutters.