All of the women spoke over each other, and Lauren had a hard time deciphering if it was one conversation or many.
“Hi Lauren! We’re so glad you could come,” Valerie said brightly.
Rhonda did a kind of head nod.
Jeni smiled widely in that way where all her teeth showed and the tendons in her neck bulged, like she was asking, “Are you freaked out yet?”
“Mom,” Andrew’s voice came from behind her. He must have followed them in. “Set her up over here at the table, okay?” He pulled out two chairs and sat down at the kitchen table, which was set slightly apart from the kitchen. He waved Lauren over and gestured to the empty seat.
She went gladly.
“I thought you might want a second to process.” He shot her a knowing smirk. “It won’t be quiet no matter where we go, but at least you’ll have a little space over here.”
Andrew’s mom dropped a huge sack of potatoes onto the table, along with a large empty bowl and two vegetable peelers. She swiveled around to grab the trash can and set it between Andrew and Lauren’s feet before returning to the flurry of activity in the kitchen.
Andrew reached for a potato with one hand and a peeler with the other, raising an eyebrow at her. “You haven’t said a word since you got here.”
Lauren set to work with her own peeler, scraping the skin into the trash can. “That’s not true. The little girl,” she jerked her head in Alva and Jeni’s direction, “was interrogating me on the porch before you found us.”
“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t after your money,” Alva said loudly.
Lauren’s face heated instantly. She thought she’d spoken quiet enough that no one would hear. With her questioning and eavesdropping skills, that child was destined to be a special agent.
Andrew choked on a laugh and looked at Alva. “What? Why would you think that?”
“I overheard Mommy and Aunt Rhonda talking about your girlfriend and that she wanted you only for yo—”
“Alva!” came Valerie’s sharp reprimand.
The little girl dutifully stopped speaking, but muttered something under her breath that sounded like, “It’s true.” Lauren glanced at Andrew. He sat very still, his attention on his sisters, both of whom avoided eye contact with him.
“How old is she?” Lauren whispered.
“Five,” he said wryly. “I can’t believe it either.”
They peeled their potatoes in silence for a few moments.
“Andrew?” A male voice said from the living room. “You gonna come watch the game?”
“Nah, I’m good here,” he called back.
“Do you usually help with Thanksgiving dinner?” Lauren asked.
“No.”
“You don’t have to stay here with me.”
He met her gaze with dark brown eyes. “I want to.”
She dropped hers back to her task. “Is that your dad in there?”
“Yeah. And Valerie’s husband, David, and their one-year-old son, Charlie.”
“Lauren?” Alva interrupted. “Some people think it’s hard to tell me and Charlie apart. If you ever wonder, just remember that I’m bigger, and I’m a better dancer.”
The entire room erupted with laughter, Lauren included, and Alva’s eyes swept the room as if she couldn’t understand what was funny.
“I’ll remember that.” Lauren fought to keep a straight face. “Thank you, Alva.”