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Ethan swiped a swirled puddle from the next step and dropped the rag into the trash. “Yeah, your message left me a little shaken. I was concerned for your wellbeing.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Although, to be fair, I'm always concerned about your wellbeing.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to upset you! It really could’ve waited. I mean, yeah, it was weird and creepy and gave me the heebie-jeebies, but I wasn't in immediate danger or anything. Plus, you were out to dinner, and I figured you’d need time to digest or whatever.” She swiped more clear, sticky stain with a rag and twisted it so it wouldn’t drip before tossing it into the garbage bag. “And to be honest, I started thinking about it last night, and then I got nervous. So, instead of just calling you again, like a rational adult, I thought, 'Hey, let’s test the new stain colors on the stairs!' Which … well, clearly, it was a mistake.”
Ethan smothered a laugh and pointed toward the dripping mess. “Yeah, I’d call it more of a catastrophic lapse in judgment.”
“Hey!” Star huffed, swiping a strand of hair from her face and leaving another streak across her forehead. “You try sitting alone at night, replaying something creepy in your head, and tell me if you don’t start making bad decisions. Plus, who knew stain was this runny? The directions said easy application. That was a bald-faced lie.”
Chuckling, he tossed a saturated rag into the garbage bag. “Okay, fair point. So, you mentioned overhearing a conversation?”
“Actually …” Star paused, biting her bottom lip. “I didn’t overhear it. I mean, yeah, I was near it, but I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. My dictation app picked it up.”
Ethan stopped mid-wipe and looked up at her. “And you waited until now to tell me this because …?”
“Well, yeah.” She gave a sheepish shrug. “I saw you were out to dinner. Was that, like, a friend of yours or something?”
Ethan shook his head, wiping another step. “No. That was my dad.”
Star brightened instantly. “Really? You don’t look anything like him! He’s all dark and broody, and you’re fair and … well, a little less broody. I bet you take after your mom. Am I right? Do I get a prize for guessing correctly?”
“Yeah, I take after my mom,” Ethan said with a smirk. “He’s my adoptive dad, actually. But you’re right. I probably resemble my biological dad more.”
Star froze mid-rag-twist. “Wait. You have brothers, right? Half-brothers? I mean, I know we talk a lot, but we usually get sidetracked by my latest disaster.”
“Yeah, I have two half-brothers. And one very big extended family. Honorary cousins, aunts, uncles … the whole chaotic mess.”
“Wow. I can’t even imagine.” Star shook her head as she cleaned the banister. “I mean, I have me. So, basically just me … and you. And Thor. Thor totally counts.”
Thor thumped his tail on the floor as if agreeing.
Ethan chuckled. “Thor's definitely family.”
“So … your biological dad … is he still … you know …” Star trailed off awkwardly.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “No. He’s not.”
Star’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a small ‘O.’ “Gotcha. We won't talk about that, then.”
“Good plan.” Ethan tossed his last soaked rag into the bag. “So, about that conversation?”
Star tied the trash bag shut, and then Ethan carried it outside to dispose of it properly. Paint, varnish, and stain required careful handling. The last thing Star needed was a fine from the city.
When he returned, she stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing her hands with industrial-strength soap. The kitchen was dim, with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. Ethan joined her, and they washed in companionable silence.
After grabbing their coffee cups, they settled at the linoleum table. The chairs creaked beneath them, their vinyl seats cracked with age. Thor lumbered into the kitchen and flopped down beside Ethan's feet with a huff.
Star pulled her phone from her pocket and slid it across the table with a single finger as if the device might explode.
“Here,” she said, her voice trembling. “This is what it recorded. It’s bad. I think.”
Ethan arched a brow. “Bad?”
“Yea, just open it.” Star popped the lid off her coffee and inhaled deeply. “Oh! Caramel macchiato. Thank you for remembering!”
Ethan’s jaw tightened as he swiped the phone’s screen. “You don’t have a security code on your phone?”
She shook her head, eyes wide with confusion. “Nope. I don’t see the need. It’s not like I live with anyone or have any secrets.” She took a long sip from her cup and gave him an innocent smile.
Ethan closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Ah. So, that was why Jason—and half the other operatives at Guardian—had perfected the bridge of the nose-pinch move. Sometimes, you just needed a moment to collect yourself when dealing with absolute chaos in human form.