The mood was easy. It was as he’d told her it would be, all good. Joss and Rod had come to look him over, but more, they’d come to be with Jussy and they were tight. They settled into that quickly, clearly happy to be spending time together, especially after all that had happened from losing Johnny to Jussy getting attacked.
Unfortunately, although that ease seemed stamped on where they’d fallen into after an unexpected arrival, Joss was Joss, Rod was Rod, so in a way Deke figured it frequently was, that ease evaporated.
It did this when Rod suddenly twisted his neck to look at his wife and stated, “We should tell her. Talk about it now before her friends show.”
Jussy’s loose body lost some of its looseness at his side as Joss looked at her husband, declaring inflexibly, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Rembrandt either had a habit of ignoring or not caring about his wife’s inflexibility, even when it pertained to something that had to do with her daughter.
“We should get on it now so she can think about it. I gotta tell Ricky. He’s taking this on. More time he has to deal with shit, the better and, baby,” Rembrandt’s voice had dipped to quiet, “even if it’s only a day, with this kind of shit, you know that.”
“She doesn’t need to have it on her mind when she’s looking forward to a good time with her friends,” Joss returned.
That made Jussy’s body lose all its looseness and tighten at his side.
Which made Deke straighten in the couch and pull her closer.
“Shit needs to get done, Joss, and she’s not gonna think it’s a bad idea,” Rod retorted.
“We can talk about it tomorrow,” Joss stated.
“We should talk about it now,” Rembrandt fired back.
“You’re gonna talk about it now,” Deke cut in after feeling Jussy get more and more tense. “Now that it’s out, she needs to know. And whatever it is, she’s Jussy, you know better than me that she’ll deal.”
Both Joss and Rembrandt looked to him, Rembrandt nonthreateningly.
Joss’s face was getting hard.
“My daughter can speak for herself,” she snapped.
Deke felt Jussy turn to stone.
He strengthened his hold on her and said to her mother, “She can. But she isn’t ’cause you two are doin’ your thing, and I can feel it’s tweaking her. So just say it so she can have it and do whatever she needs to do with it.”
Joss opened her mouth to say something but Jussy got there before her.
“Not another word.”
That made Deke’s body tense and he looked down at his woman to see her face was as rigid as her frame.
“Do not ever speak to Deke that way again, Joss,” she ordered, her voice firm, authoritative, not like a daughter talking to a mother, but like a friend laying out to a friend what needed to be laid out, something important to her, something she wanted to make sure wasn’t missed.
“Justice—” Joss began.
“Not ever again,” Jussy whispered angrily.
Deke looked from her to her mother to see Joss’s face was now also stiff. He also saw the one thing other than the man’s clear affection for Jussy that made Deke know he was not only going to like Rembrandt, but respect him.
Rod had straightened, shifted, took hold of Joss, and was now offering her what Deke was offering Justice with his arm around her.
The men remained silent as mother and daughter went into staredown and Deke was not even a little surprised when Jussy came out the winner, Joss turning her attention to Deke and saying, “My apologies, Deke.”
“No worries,” he murmured, gave his woman a squeeze and looked down at her. He waited until she aimed her irate eyes to him and he repeated, “No worries, baby. Yeah?”
She studied his face and must have gotten what she needed because she mumbled, “Yeah.”
“Dana called,” Rembrandt put in and both Deke and Justice turned surprised eyes to him.
Deke didn’t miss that Joss noted both their expressions, which communicated to her all Jussy had shared with Deke, the breadth of it and the depth.
With his look, she knew that Deke was fully aware that there were four people in her parents’ separate relationships, two who didn’t belong, these two being the ones who belonged to the wrong people. It was fucked. It was sad. But the ones who didn’t belong loved the ones who belonged to each other so much, in a sad, fucked-up way, it worked.
So Dana, who they all knew had no business being with Johnny when he belonged to Joss but the man died with her as his widow, calling either Rembrandt or Joss was news.
Surprising news.
“Dana called?” Jussy asked.
Rembrandt nodded. “She had an idea, darlin’.”