I give him a stiff smile. Always a cheap shot somewhere.
“It’s not a problem,” I tell him, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
He gives me a look I can’t read and hands me my glass. “That’s good to hear. I know it took you a lot of trial and error to find the right ones.”
“Dad,” Perry admonishes. “Why are we discussing this?”
“We’re family, aren’t we?” he says.
Perry’s eyes dart over to Jay who is standing off to the side with Ada.
That red-headed cockwaffle is definitely not a part of the family.
“It’s fine, Perry,” I tell her. “No secrets here.”
Unfortunately.
I’ve been on meds for about two years now. It’s been a hellish process, to put it mildly, to get it just right. I know I’m no stranger to medication, and I had gone off it for a while there, which in turn opened my mind up to the supernatural again and so many other fucking things.
But the truth is, I do better on them. I’ve been seeing a therapist—a good one—who recently diagnosed me with ADHD. None of us were surprised in the least. I’ve always been ADHD personified and the writing was on the wall for years. It’s just that when you’ve come from a fucked-up family and have gone through some pretty crazy things in your life, it’s easy to blame it on other things.
So, I’m on medication for that, which has helped immensely. So much so that I was able to be weaned off my anti-depressants (which were a total boner killer, so good riddance to that period of my life). I’m still impatient, impulsive, reckless, brash, and distracted, but at least it keeps me grounded, and in turn it’s helped me become a much better husband. I hope so, anyway.
I’m also on anti-anxiety medication. The question always was whether being on meds again would affect the way I see the supernatural.
At this point, I have no idea. I haven’t really seen anything since I went to Hell and back and we stopped EIT. Sure, there’s been a few times where I’ve felt things that weren’t technically there, but it’s not like it used to be.
Which is yet another reason why I want to take Harry Balls up on his offer. I want to see what happens when we seek them out. I want to see if it still remains, this ability I have, or if it’s been buried again.
I know Perry says she’s happier pretending they don’t exist.
I’m just not sure if it’s the same for me.
Dealing with the dead had a way of making me feel the most alive.
“Well,” Daniel says, clearing his throat and raising his wine glass. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better, Dex. And even though I’m sure this is the last place you want to be for your anniversary, I have to admit I’m really grateful you’re spending it with me.”
Damn. Guess I do feel for the old man. I mean, I have no choice, there’s nothing but emotional chaos inside him, and it’s nearly impossible to keep it at a distance.
I raise my glass anyway, along with Perry, and cheers him.
“Ahem, and where’s my wine?” Ada says from behind us.
“You’re not twenty-one,” he reminds her sternly.
“Jay is,” Ada says.
I snort. Daniel gives me a funny look. I’m not about to tell him how ageless Jay really is.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Would you like a glass of wine, Jay?”
I can tell from the way he talks to him that he doesn’t like him anymore than I do. In fact, he might actually like me more, which says a lot.
“I better not,” Jay says, glancing at Ada. “Out of solidarity.”
I want to ask him if he can even get drunk anyway, but while Daniel is currently surrounded by people who experience the supernatural (including Mr. Supernatural himself), he still loves to pretend that it’s all a bunch of woo woo bullshit.
“So, you’re having car troubles,” he says to me, changing the subject. “Toyotas are pretty reliable.”
I shrug with one shoulder. “Everything has its limits. It’s treated me well so far, but what I’d really like to do is trade it in and get one of the hybrids.” I give Perry an expectant look.
She ignores me, smiles at her dad as she takes a sip. “The new models look like we should be driving a pack of children to a soccer game. The car will be fine.”
Hmmphf.
We stand in the kitchen making small talk (her dad loves to talk about the business and then passive-aggressively drop hints that we’re doing things all wrong), until Jay excuses himself, saying he has work to do next door.
I watch him leave, pausing by the door and squeezing Ada’s hand before he goes.
But the moment he steps outside and starts heading next door, is the moment I realize I should be talking to Jay about our new opportunity. He might know something I don’t.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell everyone, putting down the wine and heading out the door.
“Dex!” Ada hisses after me. “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to your boy toy,” I tell her, heading across the lawn.
“What? Why?” she cries out. “Oh god, Dex. Please don’t be problematic.”
I turn around, brows raised. “Problematic? Moi?”
Then I grin at her and run across the yard, leaping over the fence between the houses with room to spare. I manage to get right in front of Jay before he even has a chance to reach for the door.
“Do you have a moment?” I ask him.
He stares at me, then looks over at the fence that I ever-so casually jumped over like it wasn’t six feet tall, then back at me again. He looks a little impressed. He should be. I’m very impressive.
“What is it?” he asks, going around me and opening the door, gesturing. “I suppose it’s only polite to invite you inside.”
“I’m not used to any of your kind having manners,” I tell him, stepping inside the house. It’s a fairly cozy place, even though it’s absolutely packed with vibes, the kind that makes the hair stand up on your neck. It’s not bad, per se, it’s just a lot.
“My kind,” he scoffs, shutting the door behind him. “You make me sound like an alien.”
I shrug. “If the freaky shoe fits.”
“Declan,” a woman’s voice says in surprise.
I turn to see Dawn Knightly walking down the hall toward me, a mug in her hands, steam rising out of it. I’ve been over here a handful of times, usually to fanboy over her husband in his jam room downstairs, but I don’t dare ask her to call me Dex. She’s a legend in her own right.
“What brings you here?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea and eyeing me curiously. I can tell she never really knows what to do with me.
“I was hoping to talk to Jay about something, but now that you’re here too, another ear is always welcome. Where’s Sage?”
“He’s in the studio,” she says. “I have a feeling if it’s a question for the three of us, it’s not going to be as simple as you borrowing a cup of sugar.”
“Not exactly. I won’t take up too much of your time though.”
She gives me a smile that makes her look youthful against her crow’s feet and gray hair. “We’re retired, Declan. We have all the time in the world.”