Riley turned his chair so that it angled more my direction. "I moved here for work. I'm with social services. If you ever need any help in that department."
"I'm good right now. But, actually, do you guys have any programs for the elderly?" I didn't think Mrs. Boxer was in need of outside help at the moment, but maybe they had a program where people came to visit. I wouldn't be in Walkerton forever. If my pattern held, I'd be here for a few more months maximum.
The baby gurgled, bringing Riley's attention away while Paul returned.
I leaned not quite so far in their direction, looking awkwardly at my screen. Talking with people was so much easier online. There, I had the safety of a screen for one, and these pauses in conversation were never so odd to navigate.
Riley thanked Paul for grabbing the coffees and took a sip. "Mmm, you aren't to tell Branson," he said sternly. To me, he added, "Branson is my husband. He's been getting on me about how much caffeine I take in during a day. I tried to explain I consume the bare minimum I need to function, but it does make me jittery. I've been working on… staying calm, recently."
The odd pause made me think there was a story there. "Your secret is safe with me. I don't know anyone in town anyway, except my neighbors."
"Is that why you were wondering about services for the elderly? We have the usual programs—Meals on Wheels, a shuttle service. Let me make some calls, and I'll get back to you on what else we can offer." He tapped his forehead sharply. "I keep forgetting I'm on leave." He smiled at his child, and my heart thumped at the obvious love this man held for his offspring. "I'll still make the calls. Apparently, leave only means I answer emails from home instead of the office."
The baby was clearly his. Now that I knew he wasn't with Paul, I could see so much of Riley in the baby's face. But if he was married, to his husband… had they contacted a surrogate? "It's okay. She survived before I got here. She'll survive after. I just worry. Mrs. Boxer is a sweet woman."
"Elise Boxer?" Paul asked. "She's friends with Nana."
He said Mrs. Boxer's friend's name like I was supposed to understand who that was.
"Are you planning on moving so soon?" Riley asked. The baby fussed, despite the way Riley rocked. He fished around in his diaper bag, pulling out a pacifier he slipped in the baby's mouth. Bran Jr. quieted immediately.
"No plans yet, but it usually happens like that. I can stay pretty mobile with my work and tend to take advantage of that." At least, that was the story I told people. No one knew about my curse, my ability to heal. Most of the people I'd had an occasion to heal had probably only been harmed because of my presence in the first place. I didn't know how bad things always happened to those around me, just that they did. Both Paul and Riley were still looking at me, making me think I was supposed to say more. "I've got to get somewhere in time to make friends for my birthday anyway." That sounded dumb.
"Oh, your birthday is soon?" Paul asked.
"No."
Riley snorted without malice, and my lips tugged up in the corners.
"It's in June."
"Mine too!" Riley exclaimed. "You have a while." He looked from me to Paul. I got the feeling something silent passed between them, a message I wasn't privy to. "You know, we're having a get-together, tomorrow, at my house. Some of my old coworkers and people I used to know are visiting for the first time."
"I couldn't impose. That sounds like a pretty big moment."
"It would be no imposition. They are just part of the guest list. A lot of people from Walkerton are coming too. It's sort of this baby shower, housewarming, wedding reception, getting to know your neighbors kind of thing."
"A Franken-party," I said.
Paul laughed, and it felt nice to hear laughter instead of reading it on the screen.
"Pretty much. Paul will be there along with some others from the pa—"
"Backpack," Paul nearly shouted.
"From the backpack?" I asked with a smile that fell when neither smiled back. I knew a secret when I saw one and understood forgetting for a moment that something wasn't meant to be shared. "It's cool. I've thought about backpacking."
Riley laughed nervously. A, L-N-OL. "Yeah, well, if you are into it, it's the Walker place where the river—"
"Did you say Walker?" I asked, my head swiveling back across the street where the Nash lookalike had disappeared to.
"Uh-oh, what did Wyatt do?" Paul asked sharply. His question held a proprietary edge.
"I don't know a Wyatt," I rushed to explain. Had Paul's nails gotten sharper? Maybe the smoke from the day before was causing hallucinations. Chuck had warned me of that. "There was a fire yesterday, and I met—"
"Nash," both Riley and Paul said at the same time.
Paul's worry cleared instantly, but not Riley's.
"You must live in my old apartment building," Riley said. "Nash and Wyatt are twins. Wyatt owns the bar across the street there." He pointed to The Greasy Stump. "Nash mentioned a fire at the apartments. Are you okay? Were you displaced?"
That was definitely social worker speak. "No. We were let back in pretty soon after. Nash and I just bumped heads." I'd have to hope they knew I meant metaphorically and not literally.
"Probably because his is so big," Paul muttered.
If it had been anything else, I might have defended Nash simply because he wasn't here to defend himself, but Paul seemed to know him better than I did. Had they dated? I didn't think so, only because it seemed Paul had a thing for his twin.
I understood. Though I preferred the way Nash had his hair a little shorter, more manicured. "He saved my life, for which I am very appreciative."
Riley looked to Paul, Bran Jr., and then back to me. "But?"
What a choosy beggar I was. Complaining about the attitude of the man who had saved me.
"It's okay. You can't say anything either of us hasn't thought," Paul said.
"You both have eyes. You know he's gorgeous. He'd also be just fine if the world began calling him by the title he believes he is owed, Master and Commander."
"You're too nice." Paul reached for Bran Jr., and Riley handed him over, pacifier and all. "At the party, I'll get a few drinks in you, and then you can really let how you feel out. In front of him."
The idea was appealing. It also sounded like a nightmare. "I don't know about that. But, yeah, why not. I'll come." Nash most likely being there had nothing to do with my decision.
"There will be other guys there too. You might find one you like better. Not Wyatt," Paul added quickly, sighing immediately after. "I don't even believe they are twins anymore. Wyatt is so…" He fanned his face with his free hand.
"You'll get no complaints from me," I assured him while mentally calculating the danger I'd be putting everyone in if I went to the party. Sometimes, my curse seemed to focus on only those people in my immediate life: favorite teachers, friends I'd made. Others, it felt random. But, normally, smaller functions held outside of the public eye were safe. I could reasonably expect to go to the party and get home without a major event.