Born to Be Badger (Honey Badger Chronicles #5)(53)

There was an extremely long moment of silence before Max finally asked, “Huh?”

A sentiment that made Mads feel better. It proved she wasn’t the only one confused by the question.

“How are you guys doing?”

“In what sense?” Nelle wanted to know.

“What happened to Tock was traumatic.”

“It was?” Tock asked.

“Yeah. Sure.” Charlie shrugged. “I guess.”

Eyes narrowed, Max asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m managing my team. You guys are my team,” she said with a sweeping arm. “And I’m managing . . . you.”

“Why?” Mads finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Charlie threw up her hands before pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I think I have to.”

“Why would you have to?”

“It’s in the book.” She pointed at her phone and Max quickly went over to her sister’s side.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the phone out of Charlie’s hand. “Managing Your Team,” she read out loud. “Dear God, what is this?”

“When they hired us, they sent me that book. I didn’t really think about it, but then Imani called and she was all, ‘Have you talked to your team? And are they doing okay?’ And when I responded, ‘I guess they’re okay. They ate,’ she made this sound of disgust. Like I was fucking up somehow.”

“She knows we’re honey badgers, right?” Max asked. “We don’t really get . . . you know . . . traumatized.”

“Yeah,” Streep agreed. “That sounds like a cat issue . . . definitely a dog’s.”

“Canines are sensitive,” Charlie agreed, petting the coyote’s muzzle. “But I just want to make sure you guys are okay.”

“We weren’t even there,” Max noted.

“I was pissed she would put the upcoming championship at risk.” Mads felt the need to point out, ignoring Tock’s enormous eye roll. “But other than that . . . I’m fine.”

“I,” Streep announced, hand pressed to her chest, “was very concerned about Tock. I kept thinking, Is she safe? Is she alive?” Tears began to fall. “What if we’d lost her forever?” She wiped her face with the back of her other hand. “We are all friends and Tock means the world to us. We can’t lose her! Not like this!”

Charlie gazed at a sobbing Streep for several seconds before telling her, “You know you gave me almost the exact same speech that time we couldn’t find Max, right?”

Looking up, Streep said, “Sorry?”

“Remember? You guys were in tenth grade, and I was worried that she’d either been kidnapped by that drug dealer trying to kill Dad or she’d decided to track down the drug dealer and kill him herself. Turned out she was just with her boyfriend, but you guys were covering for her. And that’s when you gave that speech. That speech you just gave. Tears came in at the same time, too.”

“Oh.” She sat up straight, tears now gone, and sniffed. “Well . . . in answer to your question,” she replied calmly, “yes. I’m fine.”

They all looked at Nelle, but she was texting on her phone. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, waving with one hand before going back to her texting, “Devastation. Tragedy. Blah blah blah. Glad she’s alive.”

Max handed Charlie her phone back. “Maybe badgers and wolverines should have their own team-managing handbook.” She sat down in her chair and pointed at Charlie’s phone. “Because if they suggest forced frivolity and team-building exercises that involve trust falls”—she shook her head—“that information is not for us.”

*

Shay followed Keane into the house; Finn came behind him with Dani “helping” her Uncle Finn to carry in the crate with all the puppies.

“Where do you want it?” Finn asked.

He shrugged. “Out back, I guess.”

“Oh . . . Daddy.”

Shay faced his daughter. “What did I do now?”

“Outside? In the harsh elements?”

“Harsh elements? It’s summer.”

“And their dog houses are air conditioned,” Finn added. “Much to my disgust.”

“Princess and the puppies will go in my room,” Dani informed them with a superiority only found in tiger and lion cubs. “She’ll need blankets and space so Princess can care for the puppies.”

“Or,” Keane said, “we can just put her back outside where she was doing a great job of being a dog mom.”

Dani’s silent glare was so intense, Keane turned around and walked away. Dani was a naturally sweet girl, but like any cat, she had a temper.

“Is putting them in your room necessary?” Shay asked. He wasn’t put off by his daughter’s glares. That was why she rarely bothered to level them at him.

“It’s the cleanest room in the house because I make sure it’s the cleanest.”

“The house isn’t dirty.”

“But you could eat off my floor if you were so inclined.”

“If I was so inclined?” Shay said with a laugh.

“And,” his daughter went on, lifting her arm high, her hand holding the tome that Charlie had given her so Shay couldn’t avoid seeing it, “according to the book, at this age, the puppies need to be fed every three to four hours. And they need warmth. And their mother needs to lick them to help with their”—she stopped short and looked around at her two uncles and Shay before whispering—“bodily functions.”