Chapter 12
Dane
Ifelt like a duck: on the surface, I knew I seemed cool, calm, and collected, but under the surface, things were paddling frantically.
She was here.
She'd come to Ketchikan indefinitely. She was looking at me, talking to me.
She seemed…different. It was hard to explain how, exactly.
I knew I'd have a chance to talk to her at length later, but I wanted to talk now.
My family was expecting me, and they'd all shown up to support me, so I couldn't ghost 'em in order to talk to Lindsey.
She was here and not going anywhere…hopefully.
We arrived at home, but Lindsey sat in the car, staring straight ahead, visibly shaking.
"Linz, you're that scared of what my family thinks of you?"
"Just…scared."
I circled to the passenger door and took her hands, pulling so she had to stand up and out. "There's nothing to worry about. Rune ran from Duncan, and my parents love her."
"Yeah, but that was different."
"Oh? How?"
She glared at me. "Shut up."
I just laughed and led her in through the garage. We entered the kitchen from the back, and were greeted by a cacophony of voices—the usual clamor of a Badd gathering.
Lindsey tensed as we entered, her hand crush-gripping mine.
"Hey," I heard Mom's voice exclaim. "It's the man of the hour!"
I sighed. "Here we go."
"Don't sound so excited about a celebration of you," Lindsey muttered to me.
"I wasn't expecting all this," I said. "I thought it'd be Mom, Dad, and my siblings. Not, like, literally everyone.”
"Seems like everyone is your family's default setting."
I shrugged and nodded. "It's true. It's great, I know, and I don't take it for granted. It can just be a lot sometimes. I wasn't ready for the whole crew. I was already shitting my pants."
"You looked nervous," Lindsey said. "But you were incredible."
Mom had plowed her way through the scrum of milling Badds to me and was already wrapping me in a hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Dane! I had no clue you could sing like that." She kissed both of my cheeks, European style, her eyes misty. "My boy."
I resisted the urge to pull away. "Mom, you're nuts. I sang one song."
She held me tighter, cackling through her tears. "I'm proud of you!” she shrieked, squeezing me until I groaned, laughing. "ACCEPT IT!"
"Okay, okay," I wheezed. "You're gonna break a rib, Jesus."
She reluctantly let me go, dashing fingers under her eyes and holding me at arm's length. "Fine. But only because you can't sing for me if I crack your ribs.” Her gaze went to me. "Lindsey, hi. Welcome."
Lindsey faked a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Badd."
Mom waved a hand. "Call me Dru. I've never identified as a missus." She glanced at me and then at Lindsey. "You caught his surprise performance?"
"I did," Lindsey said. "I couldn't believe what I was seeing."
Mom smiled. "Me either! I didn't even know he was taking choir until last week." She guided us further into the kitchen, shooing me away. "Dane, you have cousins to talk to. Lindsey, let's introduce you around."
Lindsey looked at me with a plea in her eyes. I just laughed, shrugging. "Mom's got you in her grip, babe. No one can help you now. Best to just give in and follow along."
Mom rolled her eyes. “Because you're so good at that, Dane."
"I never do anything the easy way," I said.
"Well, ain't that the truth," she deadpanned. "Lindsey, I'll bring you back to Dane in a minute."
I watched Mom drag Lindsey around the house, introducing her as my friend from LA and Rune's sort-of sister. I was half paying attention as I made the rounds of my cousins, thanking them for coming and fielding the shocked congratulations. I wasn’t sure how I felt about how surprised everyone was that I didn't sound like a dying goat, but I suppose it's nice.
The other part of me was watching Lindsey.
At first, she was tight and tense, shoulders up around her ears, whispering her answers, but when she gradually realized that no one seemed to hate her—and that, in fact, everyone seemed to accept her presence without question, she began to relax.
I did notice that Lindsey was refusing alcohol, instead opting to nurse a can of Diet Coke. When I finally managed to pull away from the crowd of family members, I found Lindsey in a conversation with my cousin Ella.
Ella saw me approach and leaned forward to hug Lindsey. "I think Dane the Pain wants to talk to you."
I rolled my eyes. "You and your stupid nicknames." I glanced at Lindsey. "She calls Duncan Donkey, and he fucking hates it, let me tell you."
Ella widened her eyes at Lindsey. "You can't call him that—he'll get pissy."
Lindsey smirked. "Well, now I'm going to. Making people pissy is my favorite hobby."
Ella cackled. "In that case, he really loves it when people call him Dunky Punky."
I spluttered. "Oh fuck. This is gonna get interesting." I glanced at Lindsey. "The one thing you have to understand about my family is that we’ve elevated insult-based humor to an art form. So if someone starts verbally fucking with you, hit 'em back with your best shots."
Lindsey's eyes lit up. "Oh, reaaaaaally?” She drew the word out into a multi-syllabic sing-song.
Ella and I exchanged looks, then burst into laughter. “Yeah, she'll fit in just fine," Ella said, and then looked at Lindsey. "Have you met my dad, yet?"
Lindsey widened her eyes and shrugged. "Maybe? I've met like forty people so far, and I've been driving for the last two days."
Ella tipped her back. "DADDY!"
"Yo!" Uncle Bax called.
"COME OVER HERE!"
Bax's broad form swaggered toward us. "You bellowed, dear heart?" He jutted his chin at me. "Dane. I'm impressed. I thought Canaan and Corin were the only musically inclined ones in the family. Was startin' to wonder if Mom and Dad adopted ‘em in secret."
The twins were nearby and overheard. "If anyone was adopted in secret, it was you, you overgrown gorilla," Corin quipped. "They got you from the zoo."
Ella glanced at Lindsey. "See?"
Lindsey was grinning. "I do. That's definitely a game I can play."
"Dad," Ella said. "Have you met Lindsey yet? Dane's…friend?"
Uncle Bax shook her hand. "No, not yet. I saw Dru making the rounds with you, but she managed to skip me. Guess I'm not important, AM I, DRU?"
"Nope!" Mom shot back without looking, and it wasn't at all clear whether she'd heard what was said or not–not that it mattered.
Bax laughed and then turned his attention back to Lindsey. "So, Lindsey. You're the one who turned our boy Dane's world upside down, huh?"
"DAD!" Ella hissed. "What the fuck?"
Lindsey visibly flinched. "It wasn't my intent."
Bax frowned. "I was fucking with you. Please don't cry. Eva'll kill me if I make you cry."
Lindsey snickered at this. "Afraid of your wife, are you?"
He nodded. "Oh, absolutely. I posit that in any healthy marriage, the man should be a little scared of his wife." He grinned. "Just a little bit, though. Enough to keep you on your toes."
"You're more than a little scared of Mom, Dad. The last time she used your full name, you hid in the garage."
"I did not hide," Bax said, his tone jokingly prim. "I selectively avoided detection."
Lindsey laughed at that. "I think that's the same thing, my dude."
"Have you met my wife? She's scary!"
Lindsey shook her head. “Maybe? I dunno. I just told Ella and Dane that I've met a lot of people."
"Uncle Bax," I interrupted. "I was gonna take Lindsey for a walk."
Bax arched an eyebrow. “Take her for a walk? Is she a poodle?" He pretended to scrutinize her. "You don't look like a poodle."
Lindsey shrugged. "Definitely not a poodle. More like some sort of really fucked up mutt. You know, the type you adopt at the shelter because they just look so pathetic?”
Bax laughed. "My kids tried to get me to adopt a dog like that, once. There was some adopt-a-dog thing happening at the park, and there was this super fucked up little thing. Tongue hanging out, one eye was all milky, and it needed to wear diapers. They were like, ohhh, it's so cute!"
"It was cute!" Ella insisted. "Ugly-cute, but cute."
"It was not cute," Bax argued. "It was goddamned horrifying."
Ella gave Lindsey a droll look. “He got us Tamagotchis instead."
Lindsey cackled at this. "Tamagotchis don't shit the carpet."
Bax flung his arms wide. “Thank you! Someone gets it! Even my wife was like, awwww, Bax, c'mon, everyone needs love."
"Not yappy, drooling little shit-monsters," Lindsey said.
I frowned at her. "Are you anti-dog, Lindsey?"
Lindsey shook her head. “No. I'm anti-annoying dogs that never shut the fuck up and shit and piss everywhere."
Baxter held out his fist, and they tapped knuckles. "I like you. I feel like we're kindred spirits." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Pop quiz: Is the word fuck a verb, noun, adjective, or adverb?"
"Yes,” Lindsey answered without hesitation. “It's also a conjunction and…other, um…grammatical…things."
Bax nodded sagely, as if she'd deposited a nugget of wisdom. He looked at me and clapped me on the shoulder. "Approved."
Lindsey bit her lip to stifle a laugh, and then shot me a look. "Come on, puppy. Time for walkies!” She patted her thigh and whistled twice.
"Woof." I pronounced the word deadpan. "How did I become the dog in this situation, though?"
Bax shoved me playfully. "Get outta here, young pup. Go on, git."
I snagged Lindsey's hand and led her out of the house. She exhaled a long, slow breath once we were away from the noise and chaos of the house.
I laughed. "Same. Like I said, my family is fucking amazing, but they can be overwhelming at times." She hesitated as if thinking about saying something, and then clapped her teeth together, clearly reconsidering. "Well, don't start filtering yourself now, Linz."
She sighed. "I'm kind of jealous. Or, a lot jealous. Under different circumstances, I'd love to hang out and get to know everyone. Right now, though, I…selfishly, I just want to talk to you."