It was a cloudy day, still and hot as summer settled in. He wore a long-sleeve navy T-shirt and fleece sweatpants.
He was cold all the time for some reason. He wanted some water, so his dad went and got some for him.
Martha tried to engage Gus in conversation, kneeling down next to him and saying, “You’ve always had such beautiful eyes.”
He nodded a little. One of the husbands put an arm on Gus’s shoulder and said, “How’s that fresh air feel?”
Gus shrugged. “Do you want meds?” his mom asked, joining the circle kneeling around him.
I took a step back, watching as the nephews tore through a flower bed on their way to the little patch of grass in Gus’s backyard.
They immediately commenced to play a game that involved throwing one another to the ground.
“Kids!” Julie shouted vaguely. “I can only hope,” Julie said, turning back to Gus, “they grow into the kind of thoughtful, intelligent young men you’ve become.”
I resisted the urge to audibly gag. “He’s not that smart,” I said to Julie.
“She’s right. It’s just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.”
“Right, it’s primarily his hotness,” I said. “It can be sort of blinding,” he said.
“It actually did blind our friend Isaac,” I said. “Terrible tragedy, that. But can I help my own deadly beauty?”
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