Chapter 7
They would have to talk later. Every time Jay tried to attract Dean’s attention, someone made a toast, or his father wanted yet another family photograph taken. Dean was roped into many photos—the warmth and wonderful weight of his arm around Jay’s waist—but no way to speak while grinning for the lens. Hard to express how relieved he’d been when Dean finally reappeared. Jay had tried to ask him with a look where he’d been but all Dean did was shake his head, and then blink when Jay reached up to remove a leaf from his hair. If April noticed anything like that she’d accuse Dean of screwing someone in the underbrush, but Jay didn’t think that even once.
“Not again, Dad.”
“One more, one more.”
How many shots did one family need of the same smiling faces on the same day? One more
