A half hour later, Vic stood near the grill, a cooler full of ice and beer on the picnic table beside him. Every now and then he slipped his hand into the cold ice as if retrieving a can, but he was just trying to keep down the flames that continued to break out across his palm like a bad case of hives. Matt leaned against the table in front of the cooler, hiding Vic’s flame-encrusted hand from the guests in the pool. How he would eat without drawing attention to himself—or char his burger beyond flavor—remained to be seen.
Kyle had disappeared into the house in search of food; with a flourish, he pushed open the sliding screen door that separated the deck from the kitchen, holding aloft a plate topped with raw burgers and hot dogs. “Guess who’s here?” he cried out with a laugh.
The ma
