“Why on earth did you do laundry?”
“Dude, if you smelled my bike shorts, you wouldn’t have to ask.”
“You used half our water!”
“Speaking of which—that’s boiling.”
“Shit.” Dan ran over and turned off the water he’d put on to boil for the oatmeal. “Marty, this water situation is literally life or death.”
“Dude, first of all: I’m sorry. I didn’t think we were using that much. Second: chill out! You’re overreacting. I can get us more water! I’m a Watchdog!”
“How? They don’t have water!”
“Eddie’s got a whole pool of it!”
“You can’t drink pool water!”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, you can’t! It’s chlorinated!”
“Well, agree to disagree. But whatever. We’re making our move on Ridgelawn today. When that happens, I swear to God, I’ll get you all the water you need. I brought you some yesterday, didn’t I?”
“Yeah—and then you drank it all!”
“’Cause we didn’t want to use more of yours!”
Marina slinked into the room, dressed in yoga attire. “Has anyone made coffee?”
“That’s a good idea,” Marty agreed. “Dan, you got whole bean? Or grounds?”
“We can’t make coffee!” Dan seethed.
“Sure, we can. We don’t need a machine. We’ll just do pour-overs—”
“We don’t have water, Marty!”
“Dude, why are you so hostile? Is this about Jen? I know it’s a lot of stress, being in your situation—”
“It’s not about Jen.”
“It is a serious problem with her,” Marina volunteered. “It is normal to be upset.”
Dan sank back into his chair. “It’s not Jen. It’s the entire situation.” He took his glasses off, shut his eyes, and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We didn’t budget for two extra people.”
When Dan opened his eyes again, Marty’s blurry bulk had stepped forward to loom over the table beside him and was fiddling with something he’d pulled out of his pants pocket.
Dan put his glasses back on just in time to see Marty place a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“Does that help?” Marty asked.
Yes.
But it also struck Dan as a trap. What he really needed to do was get Marty out of his house. Accepting the money, however badly he needed it, would make that impossible.
“This isn’t about money.”
“Can it be, though?”
“The thing is, we’re leaving. I’m taking the family up to my mom’s place in Massachusetts. We’re going to close up the house. So I’m sorry, but . . . you guys are going to have to figure out your own situation.”
Marty wrinkled his nose. “Why would you go to Massachusetts?”
“Because it’s not here. And maybe it’s—”
The sound of a car horn reached them from the street.
“Oh! That’s probably for me. Kozak said he was going to stop by.” Marty headed for the hallway to the front door.
At the mention of the Watchdog co-leader whom Eddie had identified at last night’s dinner as the man who made the militia’s membership decisions, Dan started to stand up.
“Should I come, too?” If for whatever reason they didn’t end up leaving town, it seemed like a good idea to align himself with the guys who were running around carrying guns.
“Just sit tight,” Marty told him. “You don’t want to seem pushy. But don’t worry—I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Dan stayed on his feet for a moment, debating whether to follow until he heard Marty slam the front door on his way out. Then Dan returned to his seat and tried not to stare at the hundred-dollar bill sitting on the table less than a foot away from him.
Marina took the chair next to his. “Dan, can I tell you honestly what I am seeing?”
“Okay.” At point-blank range, it was difficult to refuse a request from Marina. Her cheekbones alone were incredibly intimidating.
“I think you are trying to fix your problem by running away,” she explained. “But you cannot run.”
Why? Because you’ll hunt me down and kill me?
But Marina wasn’t thinking of the same problem Dan was.
“Jen drinks in the daytime,” Marina continued. “My father did this also. It is very serious. And you cannot make her stop just like the, how do you say it? The cold turkey. Because then she will make a seizure.”
“I don’t think it’s quite that bad yet,” Dan protested as they heard the sound of the front door reopening, then slamming shut.
Marina frowned and shook her head. “I think you have the denial.”
“Check this out!”
Marty strode into the room, his eyes glowing as he held up an assault rifle.
Dan gasped at the sight. Outside of the occasional counterterrorism cop at Penn Station, he’d never seen a weapon like that in real life.
And certainly not in his kitchen.