By late afternoon, the backseat of Gael's car looked like they'd accidentally robbed three antique stores and a beach café.
Haley had sohow acquired:
-two vintage records for Claire Dunphy,
-a ridiculous neon sign Luke absolutely did not need,
-sunglasses,
-a leather jacket she claid was "iconic,"
-and a ceramic dog statue that Gael was fairly certain contained evil spirits.
"It's like it is watching us," he said while glancing at the statue in the rearview mirror.
"That's called art."
"That's called haunting."
Haley laughed loudly from the passenger seat, one bare foot tucked beneath her while ocean wind drifted through the open windows.
The drive back toward the city felt lazy in the best way.
"You know what's weird?" Haley asked.
"You legally cannot keep starting conversations like that."
"You actually had fun today."
Gael kept one hand loosely on the wheel while glancing sideways at her.
"I had fun watching you threaten a seventy-year-old man over vinyl pricing."
"He started the negotiation aggressively."
"You called him dishonest and a scamr."
"He was."
Gael laughed quietly.
He couldn't rember the last ti a day had felt this uncomplicated.
No strategy.
No constant thinking.
No future planning.
Just Haley dragging him through crowded streets while holding his hand like she'd been doing it forever.
His phone buzzed against the console.
Claire.
Haley noticed instantly.
"Ooooh."
"You react like a middle-schooler every ti my phone rings."
"Because it's funny."
Gael answered while Haley leaned closer shalessly trying to listen.
"Hey."
Claire sounded distracted.
"Hi. Quick question."
"That sentence never ends peacefully."
"I'm making dinner tonight and Phil bought the wrong pasta again."
"In my defense," Phil yelled sowhere in the background, "the boxes looked similar!"
Claire ignored him.
"So I'm improvising now."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is." A pause. "Anyway, Haley ntioned you two were near the beach?"
Haley imdiately mouthed:
She misses us.
Gael lightly pushed her forehead away with one hand.
She bit his wrist in retaliation.
Claire caught the muffled laughter through the phone.
"…Am I interrupting sothing?"
"No," Gael answered while Haley continued trying to steal the phone.
"She's lying to you emotionally," Haley inford her mother loudly.
"I gathered that."
Gael shook his head while Haley grinned triumphantly beside him.
"What's the actual question?" he asked.
Claire sighed dramatically.
"Would you two rather eat here tonight or should I save myself the stress?"
Interesting.
Not:
[Haley should co ho.]
Both of them.
Natural already.
Gael glanced briefly toward Haley.
She looked quietly hopeful now beneath the teasing.
"Yeah," he answered. "We'll co by."
Haley smiled imdiately.
Small.
Automatic.
But real enough that Claire heard it through the silence anyway.
"Good," Claire said softly. "And tell Haley if she brings another stray decorative object into this house, I'm throwing it at Phil."
"Too late," Haley called loudly. "We bought Luke a neon shark sign."
Silence.
Then Claire sighed the sigh of a woman abandoned by fate itself.
"Of course you did."
The call ended a mont later.
For a few seconds, the car stayed quiet except for music and traffic.
Then Haley looked over at him.
"You noticed it too, right?"
"That your family enables chaos with ease?"
"My mom inviting you automatically now."
Gael's fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.
Yeah.
He had noticed.
A few months ago Claire treated him carefully:
polite,
observant,
slightly cautious.
Now she called him directly about dinner plans and expected him around naturally.
The shift had happened slowly enough that nobody really questioned it anymore.
"You know what's funny?" Haley murmured.
"What?"
"If we ever break up, my family's absolutely keeping you."
"That's deeply threatening."
"It's true."
Honestly?
That possibility felt strangely believable already.
Dinner at the Dunphy house turned into controlled chaos almost imdiately.
Luke plugged in the neon shark sign before Claire approved it.
Phil sohow burned garlic bread.
Alex refused to admit she liked the tacos Haley brought ho.
And through all of it, Gael found himself moving naturally through the kitchen beside Claire while setting plates out before anyone asked.
"You do realize," Claire said while watching him grab utensils from the correct drawer automatically, "this is getting suspicious."
Gael glanced sideways.
"What is?"
"You know where everything is now."
"That sounds accusatory."
"It's observational."
"There it is again," he muttered.
Claire laughed softly before bumping the refrigerator closed with her hip.
Honestly, she looked less tense lately.
Still busy.
Still managing everyone constantly.
But less tightly wound around Gael specifically.
Which probably explained why talking to her felt easier now too.
"You know," Claire said while lowering her voice slightly, "Phil's convinced you're secretly forty."
Gael nearly dropped the forks.
"That feels insulting."
"He says no eighteen-year-old voluntarily helps with groceries."
"Your husband thinks raccoons are unionized."
"That is unrelated."
Gael laughed by himself.
And standing there trading quiet sarcasm beside Claire while the rest of the family yelled in the background—
The mont felt strangely dostic.
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