“We lived with our parents until our mom passed,” Nash told her.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” That came from Naomi, and this time she was looking right fucking at me.
I nodded stiffly.
“Naomi, did you pick up Waylay’s school laptop yet?” Sloane asked. “My sister said Chloe’s was a little buggy.”
“Yeah, every time I open the internet, it restarts. How am I supposed to watch age-appropriate videos on YouTube with no internet?” Chloe chimed in.
“Or, I don’t know, do school work?” Sloane teased.
“I could probably take a look at it,” Waylay offered.
Chloe’s brown eyes widened. “You’re a STEM girl?”
“What’s that?” Waylay asked with suspicion.
“Science Technology Engineering Math,” Sloane filled in.
“Yeah. Nerd stuff,” Chloe added.
Sloane elbowed her niece.
“Ow! I don’t mean nerd like bad. Nerds are good. Nerds are cool. Nerds are the ones who grow up to run companies and make bazillions of dollars,” Chloe said. She looked at Waylay. “Nerds are definitely good.”
The tops of Waylay’s ears turned pink.
“My mom always said nerds were losers,” she said quietly. She shot Naomi a look. “She said girls who liked dresses and doing their hair were…uh, bad.”
I had the sudden urge to hunt down Tina and drop-kick her ass into the creek for not being the kind of mother her kid needed.
“Your mom got a lot of things mixed up, kiddo,” Naomi said, running her hand over Waylay’s hair. “She didn’t understand that people could be more than one thing or like more than one thing. You can wear dresses and makeup and build rockets. You can dress in suits and play baseball. You can be a millionaire and work in your pajamas.”
“Your mom doesn’t like dresses and hair?” Chloe scoffed. “She’s missing out. I had two wardrobe changes for my birthday last year, and I got a bow and arrow. You be you. Don’t let someone who doesn’t like fashion tell you anything.”
“Listen to Chloe, who’s about to lose a hot dog off her plate— Get down, Waylon,” Liza said.
My dog froze, mid-sneak.
“We can still see you even if you’re not movin’, dumbass,” I reminded him.
Waylay giggled.
Pouting, Waylon slunk back under the table. Seconds later, I noticed Waylay tear off a piece of her hot dog and casually tuck it under the checkered cloth.
Naomi noticed it too but didn’t tattle on either one of them.
“If you brought your laptop along, I could take a look,” Waylay offered.
“Well, if you’re doing a little post-dinner tech support,” Tallulah said, pulling a huge iPad out of her work bag, “I just got this for the shop, and I’m having trouble transferring everything over from the old one.”
“Ten dollars a job,” I said, slapping the table.
Everyone’s eyes came to me. Waylay’s lips quirked.
“Waylay Witt doesn’t work for free. You want the best? You gotta pay for it,” I told them.
Her tiny smile was a smirk now, which morphed into a full-out grin when Tallulah yanked a $10 bill out of her purse and handed it over. “First paying customer,” Tallulah said proudly.