He hadn’t told his mother Zane was coming, and while he wasn’t surprised that Deuce had inquired about his partner’s whereabouts, it did strike him as odd that Chester had done the same. Maybe they were already starting to figure things out on their own.
He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Hello?”
They heard footsteps from the back of the house, and soon Ty’s mother came around the corner and smiled brilliantly. “Come here and give your mama a hug before I have to go back outside.”
Ty and Deuce moved toward her, hugging her obediently. She had to stand on her tiptoes to put her arms around their necks, and she squeezed them both tightly. Ty couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you doing outside this time of night?” Deuce asked when he let her go.
“Zane,” Mara demanded, ignoring Deuce’s question and holding her arms out for a hug from Zane as well. Zane smiled and moved to obey. “You look better than the last time I saw you!” She pulled away from him and held him by his shoulders, looking up at him with a critical eye. “Such a handsome boy,” she said as she patted his cheek. She turned her eye to Ty again. “You could use some work. Come on.” She turned and headed toward the back door.
Ty huffed and followed. “What are you doing outside so late?” he repeated.
“Helping your daddy,” Mara shot over her shoulder.
Zane held out a hand toward Ty. “Want me to take the bags upstairs?”
“No. Wait, what? Hey, Ma!” Ty trailed after his mother, bag still over his shoulder. “What is he doing?”
“Cutting up the four-by-fours we got for the roof.”
“Oh hell,” Zane said under his breath as he followed the crazy train out the back door, reaching for the strap of Ty’s bag. Ty shrugged it off with a glance back at Zane, but his attention was on his mother.
They thumped down the steps in the dark and followed Mara around the corner of the house, where a pole stood in the middle of the yard. In the pool of light at its base were several stacks of tin roofing, wooden planks, crates, and Earl Grady with a large electric saw.
“Earl, the boys are here,” Mara announced.
“Boys,” Earl greeted without looking up.
“Hello, sir,” Ty and Deuce responded at the same time.
“Dad?” Ty knelt down so he could look his father in the eye.
“It wasn’t the whole finger,” Earl said before Ty could even ask. He held up his hand and displayed the heavy wrapping that was keeping his reattached pinkie connected.
“It’s dirty!” Mara said. “That’s it. We’re going inside.”
“But Mara—”
“That was the deal! Inside. Now!” Mara shouted, pointing at the house.
“How did you cut off your finger?” Deuce asked.
“I didn’t cut off anything,” Earl answered with a look at his wife.
“He’ll tell you when he gets inside.”
“But Ma,” Ty said, sounding almost exactly like Earl had a moment earlier.
“Inside!”
Grumbling, Ty turned, and the procession tromped into the house. They headed for the living room, and Ty threw himself onto the couch. Zane sat next to him with a little more dignity, but Ty could tell he was tense. Zane and Earl hadn’t hit it off the first time they’d met.
Mara pointed for Earl to sit in the nearby recliner, and he did so without protest.
“I’ll get the disinfectant and the gauze,” she announced as she left the room.
Deuce sat on the table in front of Earl, and he and Ty both watched their father out of the corner of their eyes, either trying to judge his mood or waiting for him to speak.
“So, Dad,” Ty finally tried, drawing the words out as he turned his shoulders toward Earl.
“It was an accident.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“Can’t help it, runs in the family. What happened?”
“Your mother cut my finger off with a set of garden shears. That’s what happened,” Earl answered, his tone neutral. Although, he did manage to make the word “mother” sound like a curse.
“Did you . . . deserve it?” Deuce asked shakily. Either he was afraid of asking the question, or he was trying not to laugh. Ty was inclined to think the latter.
“A little bit,” Earl said. “She was out there pruning that big ol’ gardenia bush, and I was trying to get the mulch under it just right as she did it.”
“So, you . . .”
“She told me to wait, that I was going to lose a finger.” Earl looked toward the kitchen and then back at Ty and Deuce. He snorted. “I asked her, did she think I was stupid? Then a couple snips later, whack. Off went the finger. And you know what that woman said to me? I said, ‘Mara, you cut my finger off.’ And your mother said to me, ‘Well, Earl, who’s stupid now?’”
Ty laughed out loud before he could stop himself. Deuce snorted and cleared his throat before giving up and grinning. Ty could picture the scene as if he had witnessed it himself, and he couldn’t seem to stop giggling.
“It’s not really all that funny,” Earl said, offended. Ty’s only response was to lower his head into both hands and laugh more. The more Earl protested, the harder Ty laughed. Soon he fell to his side against Zane’s arm and covered his face as he cackled.
“If it makes you feel better, Dad, we were worried,” Deuce said, though his voice wavered.
“Yeah, he looks it,” Earl said. He was watching Ty with what might have been affection, though.
“He does have personal experience with finger injuries.”
“That’s ’cause he’s a dumbass,” Earl said.
Ty howled as he pointed at his father. “That must run in the family too!”
Earl eased back into his chair and shook his head as Ty finally wound down and tried to catch his breath. “Good thing it wasn’t the whole hand. You’d ’a’ been in hysterics.”
That caused another peal of laughter. Deuce bit his lip and looked away so Earl wouldn’t see him grinning, and Ty could feel Zane chuckling against him.
Mara walked into the room carrying a basket of first aid gear and frowned at them. “He told you how it happened, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zane managed to say.
Ty cleared his throat and sat back up, fighting for a little decorum as he wiped at his eyes.