But I wasn’t wrong. The caption underneath the picture was clear.

“Ray?” I called out, confused by what I’d stumbled upon. Maybe I’d misunderstood the story of how Grace and Bear met when Bear had originally told it to me. He could be very distracting. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d gotten the details wrong.

The little boy in the picture was still in diapers though, and I could have sworn that Bear had said—

“Yeah?” Ray shouted back from the end of the hallway where she was sorting out a linen closet.

“Do you know when Bear and Grace met? Like how old he was?” I asked.

“He was a teenager,” she said, coming into the kitchen with another box in her arms. She set it down on the kitchen table and grabbed the fat black marker from the counter. Ray labeled the box RABBITS PART-SEVEN and set it on top of the other rabbit numbered boxes already stacked in front of the refrigerator. “King and Preppy met Bear when they were fighting about stupid kid shit. They all got into some sort of brawl or something and then shortly after King introduced Bear to Grace. Preppy told me the story, although I’m pretty sure he embellished a bit because the way he told it to me was that after he kicked their asses, he made them apologize to him and buy him new pants. I don’t know about you but I don’t think Bear or King were much of the apologizing type.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I agreed.

Ray leaned on the back of the chair and set a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side. “Why?”

I held up the picture that was clearly marked ABEL. “If Grace met Bear when he was a teenager then why does she have a picture of him as a baby?” Ray snatched the photograph from my hands, knocking over a ceramic glass ballerina rabbit from the corner of the table. It shattered on the linoleum but neither one of us reacted to the sound of the second piece of Grace’s life that we’d broken.

“Maybe it’s not really him or something?” I asked, hesitantly. Ray pulled out a chair and took a seat next to me at the table, her mouth agape as she stared down at the smiling boy who was sitting on a checkered beach blanket under the shade of a blue umbrella. “Maybe it’s another Abel?”

Ray rolled her eyes. “Another Abel, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes that just happened to be lying around in Grace’s house?”

“Maybe?” Unsure of what other logical explanation there could be.

“Ti, what do you think this could mean?” Ray asked. She’d been using Bear’s nick name for me a lot lately, and despite the fact that when I was a kid every nickname I ever had made me twitchy, it didn’t bother me at all coming from her or Bear.

“Maybe Bear gave it to her, but then why would it be in her cabinet taped to the back of a dish?” I asked.

“There is no way. Grace would have no reason to hide that. She loved pictures almost as much as she loved rabbits. If this was a picture he’d given to her it would have been in a frame displayed next to a rabbit somewhere,” Ray said, turning the picture over in her hands.

“But then why?”

Ray shook her head. “I have no idea, but whatever it is it’s making my brain hurt,” she said, rubbing her temples. She reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out her phone, snapping a picture of the Polaroid. “Put this in your pocket,” she said, handing the photo back to me. “I have a feeling that the boys don’t know anything about it either. I’m not going to call now and take them out of their pow-wow, so we will have to wait until tonight to show it to them. Grace wasn’t one to keep secrets. Her policy was always about honesty, which is why this is all so confusing.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either, but it pains me to have to wait until later. My curiosity is on a level ten right now,” I admitted. Patience was never a strong suit of mine. Six months waiting for Bear didn’t help that.

“Mine too.” Ray stood up again, grabbing another empty box from the pile by the front door. “Although I think I may have to wait even longer to talk to King because lately he won’t let me get a word out before trying to impregnate me again. Chances are slim to none for meaningful conversation before he accomplishes that mission. He’s been knee deep in baby fever ever since Nicole-Grace was born.” There was a slight annoyance in her tone, but it sounded forced. “It’s like he’s not going to be happy until we have to build another house for all these kids, and I’d really like to at least have a wedding before he goes through with his plan of using my uterus as a clown car. Or better yet, turn twenty-one. That would be cool.”

I wagged my eyebrows. “Yet, I get the sense that you don’t really mind his methods all that much,” I said, pressing my lips together and trying not to laugh.

“No. His methods.” She sighed dreamily. “His methods are goooooood.” Ray looked at me straight faced before bursting out into laughter. “He has this way of making me give in to him, no matter what. He could ask me to do anything short of nuking a third world country and I’d be all, ‘mmmmm-kay.’ Makes me feel like an idiot.” Ray shook her head and used the corner of the box in her arms to point at me. “But hey! At least King wears shirts! I don’t know how you ever get anything accomplished around Bear. If King never wore a shirt, I’d stand less of a chance than I already do. I’d be in that house giving birth like the old lady who lived in a shoe,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “On that note, I think I’ll go back and pack another box of bunnies.” She disappeared down the hall.

I took one last look at the baby in the picture before putting it in my pocket. I went back to the business of packing away Grace’s life. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t keep my mind off the photo or what it meant.

Grace may have kept a lot of rabbits in her house, but that day I found out that she was also keeping something else.

Secrets.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Bear

THE LAST TIME King and I locked ourselves in a room and got fucked up for days was when Preppy died.

This time may have been for Grace but we had every intention of following through with the fucked-up part again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you expect me to cover that entire thing,” King said, blowing out the smoke he was holding and passing me the joint. He ran his fingertips over my biggest Bastard tattoo on my shoulder and scratched his head.