Page 64 of Things I Read About
“I saw the blueprints,” Nate says flatly, tucking his gun back behind him.
“And you and Dean went over the perimeter, right?”
Nate nods.
“Good. Before we leave, you need to go over the alarms and home intelligence system.”
Shep approaches from the living room with the house’s iPad.
Fergus gives Nate a pointed look.
“Got it,” Nate says. He extends a hand to Shep. “Sorry about yesterday. Adrenaline.”
“No sweat, man. Let me show you the interface and equipment closets; we’ve got two.” They wander away.
I watch Nate’s wide back as he goes. He’s in the same clothing today except the shirt is dark gray. I think I prefer the black.
“Poor Joe,” Skye says softly. She’s watching me from the edge of the living room, her bags gathered at at her feet.
How long has she been standing there? How long have I been standing here?
“W-what?”
“You heard me.” She winks at me. “Let him down easy, I think Joe really likes you from what Sadie has said.”
Sadie comes in with her luggage. “What did I say?”
Skye redirects easily, “A million instructions for her.”
“I wrote it all out, too. Shep added some notes. It’s printed in the mudroom for you.”
“Printed? What is this, 2002?” Samantha jokes as she joins us. “I emailed my stuff. And you know I’ll call, too.”
“I won’t.” Skye chuckles. “You’re welcome.”
Susan gives us all a once over when she rolls her bag in, stopping it alongside Sadie’s. “We really are a bit too much, aren’t we?”
“Never. My girls are just right,” Dad says from behind me. “C’mon girls, we don’t need anyone loading our bags for us, get to it.”
I help Skye with her bags, and the whirlwind begins. Hugs, goodbyes, and last-minute reminders.
After a few hilarious rounds of I-Should-Go-To-The-Bathroom-Again-Too, everyone is loaded up except for Dad and Susan.
Shep walks out with Nate, still explaining things while tapping on the device in his hands.
“We could stay for the day…”
“Susan,” Dad scolds. “Fergus said it’s easier and safer if we convoy this way. Now, one last hug and get in the car.”
“I’ll call you tonight, okay?” She says before hugging me too hard.
“Okay.”
She reluctantly pulls back and turns toward the cars.
“I’m not going to say anything, or I’ll get all weepy and embarrass myself. And it’s not like a four hour separation is much different from two,” Dad says as he pulls me into a bear hug. He sniffs, because he is a big softy, and I am his baby.
“Quit cryin’ ol’ man. She’s gonna be fine,” Shep says, clapping Dad on the back.
