Page 14 of Crocodile Tears
"I'm starting a conservation charity," I said smugly.
Cody didn't move for several seconds before he stepped forward and snatched my coffee cup from the desk. "Luca, we're going to need some more coffee please.”
Chapter Nine
Dove
The entire boat ride to the shoreline, I muttered curses under my breath until Heron finally called, "Anything you want to share with the class there, Dove?"
I glared at my younger sibling as they manned the rudder. We’d borrowed Petey's motorboat for the trip into town. It was slower and choppier than the ferry, but the ferry only ran twice a day in the off-season . . . well, three times a day, while Deacon pretty boy Harrow was in town.
Petey’s boat was a barely held together, rusty catastrophe filled with broken tools and snack wrappers. As I took in the sight, I started to consider whether our family had the budget to rent our own for Hannah’s emergency labor transit instead of borrowing this one.
As of now, they were planning on catching the ferry over three days before Hannah’s due date and renting a hotel untilthe baby arrived, which I was starting to think was the more sensible plan. Hawk’s anxiety would probably explode if Hannah went into labor at the zoo. Plus, a little hotel babymoon would be nice for them.
I angrily started plucking up granola bar wrappers and putting them into a plastic bag as the cool springtime wind whipped at my face. The sun this morning had tricked me into thinking it was summer, but the boat ride made my teeth chatter as the cold air lashed into me.
“I should’ve worn a windbreaker,” I said, my voice getting lost on the wind. “This is so ridiculous. I have work to do. Samantha has started plucking her feathers again and I think I might need to move her in with Jeremy even though she hates Jeremy because he loves her and she’s better with him even if she doesn’t want to?—”
“What? Are you talking about plucking your eyebrows?” I could barely hear Heron over the whipping wind. “Your eyebrows are fine.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing! Never mind!” I screeched right at a lull in the breeze, and Heron’s cheeks dimpled in a knowing smile.
“I can’t tell if this lunch is freaking you out because he’s a movie star or because you hate him,” Heron said with a whistle.
“Definitely the latter.” I hated him more than Samantha hated Jeremy. And in the world of eclectus parrots, that was a whole hell of a lot.
“What?” Heron shouted to be heard over the engine as we picked up speed to get through the choppy water.
“Mom has really outdone herself this time," I shouted back. "Making me meet up with Deacon in town no less. Like I’m not busy enough already!” We pulled into the bay, slowing until we could talk without shouting as we wound our way throughmoored yachts bobbing in the marina. “You know someone is going to take our photo, and then he'll be able to pretend that I don't hate his guts. This is manipulation.”
“You don't hate his guts," Heron countered. I eyed them incredulously. "Oh, we're not at that realization yet? Got it," they added with a mocking laugh.
“What was Mom thinking? It’s like she doesn’t know me at all.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Heron’s expression soured, and I knew what they were thinking. “It’s gotten worse with all the grandbaby talk. She doesn’t know us as well as she thinks she does.”
Heron’s statement was actually a somewhat comforting reminder to pull my head out of my own ass. I wasn’t the only Lachlan sibling going through things right now.
“Just tell her,” I implored. “I mean, you obviously don’t have to, but . . . I think you should. It’s clearly weighing you down, and you know she’d be supportive.”
“She’s a hopeless romantic. She won’t understand.”
Something had shifted in Heron over the last year. They’d matured beyond Crane’s childish antics, and the two of us had started to surprisingly grow closer. They'd become a friendly confidante for me, and I’d been the first person they’d come out to as asexual last year. They’d known that I was demisexual, so I had probably been the safest person to tell.
On a promiscuity scale of Heron to Finch, I was much closer to the Heron side, but I still liked the idea of physically being with someone. My attempts at one-night stands had made me realize I wasn’t sexually attracted to people unless there was established feelings already there . . . which made my relationship options pretty slim in the hookup culture of dating apps.
“Shewillunderstand. Our entire family is queer in different ways,” I added encouragingly. “Well . . . except for maybe Crane. But seriously, no one would judge you for being ace.”
"Our mother is literally trying to set you up with a movie star so you can have a bunch of little movie star babies,” they countered.
“She isnottrying to set me up with him!” I balked. “She’s trying to make me apologize to him for calling him a worthless piece of crap on the internet . . . among other things.”
“Oh, she’s definitely shipping you two,” Heron said with a laugh. “And she’s also definitely not ready to accept that I'm never going to have a partner or children.”
