But I’d have to figure it out.
I did.
Sear-roasted pork tenderloin. Cheesy polenta. Asparagus. Fresh-baked bakery rolls. And for dessert, brownie bites with a Rolo shoved in the middle.
So the brownies were made from a box.
I had a feeling the Bohannans wouldn’t complain.
I was pleased when the doorbell rang at 6:07.
Goldilocks.
Not too early.
Not too late.
Also, they didn’t tramp up to the back door.
I went to the front, looked out my peephole (you couldn’t be too careful, and I definitely couldn’t be).
And froze.
I couldn’t say I’d noticed the state of their grooming a few hours ago.
But now, all three of the men had hair still partially wet from showers. They were wearing button downs and clean jeans. And Celeste had changed into a dress.
I felt the need to start sobbing. Not crying. Not weeping. Sobbing.
I beat this need and opened the door.
“Welcome,” I said, stepping back immediately to allow entry.
I’d had time to do the most important thing of the evening.
I’d figured it out.
I knew exactly how I was going to play it.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I shared as they marched in, doing this in a manner that it wasn’t the first time they had all shown as a family to my house when I was in said house. “We’ll get some drinks and then I’ll fill your stomachs.”
I had thought about something else in the time since then and now, and it came to mind again as I watched them filter into my house.
Jason, Jesse and Celeste looked like brothers and sister, very much so, even if the boys’ looks swung much closer to their father. And Bohannan had dominant features, so even though he didn’t have them, somewhere in his genes, those blue eyes could come from him.
But Jason and Jesse were much older. I’d be shocked if they were under twenty-five. My guess would place them at twenty-eight or nine.
Celeste was either a late baby or there were two former Mrs. Bohannans floating around.
Or, I hated to think it and hoped it was not true (though, it might explain a few things), one former and one no longer of this world.
I did not comment on this.
I said to Jason, “I know you don’t know me, even if you do. What there is to know now is that my home is a home, to everyone I know who has meaning to me. In that vein, would you get your dad and brother a drink, yourself and your sister too? I’ve got mine. There are some finishing touches I need to make on dinner.”
“Sure,” he agreed equably.
I nodded to him. “There’s beer and all sorts in the fridge. If something harder is required, the liquor chest is over there, there’s mixers and such in the cabinet.”
I pointed into the living room.
He nodded.
I turned to Celeste. “And, honey, that pitcher of ice water on the counter, could you fill the water glasses on the table? Then refill the pitcher and set it on the table.”
“On it,” she decreed, practically jumping to do something that didn’t have anything to do with carrying the heavy load she’d been carrying.
I moved to the French oven on the stove and the butter and parmesan beside it, saying, “Cade, I have a question for you.”
The guard in his tone was almost entirely concealed, a herculean feat considering the circumstances, when he offered, “Shoot.”
I glanced sideways at him standing on the other side of my bar and simply said, “David Ashbrook.”
He dipped his chin and replied with equal simplicity, “Solid.”
Okay then.
Good.
If he seemed to know what he was doing, I could hire Polly’s nephew to help me with the house.
“As a rock,” Jesse bit out with such acidity, my movements were wooden when I twisted to regard him standing next to his father opposite me at the bar. “His dad’s a dick,” he continued.
“Jess,” Bohannan murmured.
“She should know. And she should hire him,” he said to his father. Then to me, “He got Robyn pregnant in high school.”
“Oh, well, I—” I didn’t quite start.
“His dad told him to tell her to get rid of it. He told his dad it’s her body, he wasn’t gonna tell her to do shit.”
When it came, it was quiet, but as this story unfolded, Bohannan sighed.
Jesse was undeterred.
“She was gonna get an abortion anyway, but ole Don wasn’t gonna be talked to like that by his son, so he kicked him out. Robyn was sixteen. David wasn’t yet eighteen. He lived with us for, I don’t know, eight, nine months. By the way, she lost the baby.”
I turned fully to Jesse.
He kept talking.
“He worked for some outfits, not ever long because his dad kept dicking with him, and his bosses couldn’t be dealing with that shit. But he learned a lot because he’s sharp. Robyn graduated and got an associate degree. She’s a court reporter now, which is some serious cool. They got married a couple of years ago and whadaya know? They want a baby right away, because they’re that couple. They just didn’t want it when they weren’t ready, as, you know, it’s their freakin’ right.”