Uncle Doug looks past me at the house, then turns back to the bench to wipe up excess proofing before it can drip. “Where’s Dan?” he asks. “Your dad’s looking for him.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and with a smug wink, I tell them, “He’s…preoccupiedat the moment. You know how it is.”
Kenny whoops loudly—he’s not as dense as Ray can be. “That boy is whipped,” he says. I shrug, embarrassed, but I like the awe shining in their wide eyes, their wicked grins. Jerking a thumb at me, he tells Doug, “Color me impressed. He’s got a soldier in his room just beggingfor it.”
“I didn’t say that,” I start.