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“Sure you don’t. Remember, I’m watching you, Mr. Anderson.”
“After all these years, it’s great to know that you’re still scoping me out.”
Norma Jean swiped an oven mitt through the air in his direction, but her face was aglow. “Stop being fresh, Casanova.”
“Anything for you, sexy.”
“Okay, stop. You two had plenty of time to chase each other around before we got here,” Adrian complained from behind them.
“Boy, please. This is my house, and I’ll get fresh with whomever I choose,” his mother replied.
“I’d better be the only one you’re getting fresh with,” her husband countered.
She smiled at him, and then turned her attention back to her son.
“Do I tell you what to do in your home? Lord knows I’ve had plenty of opportunities with the way you chase your wife through every room in your house.”
Adrian grinned with a devilish glint in his eye. “Touché, Mom, but can you at least keep it to a minimum until after we leave?”
Norma Jean went over to give her husband a smooch on the lips before turning back to her son. “I might.”
With a shudder, Adrian set the tote bag he was carrying on the table and took out a square covered dish. “Milán made flan, and it needs to go into the fridge.”
“Great. Your hands aren’t broke. Put it in there, and then get the burgers from the second shelf and take them outside for your father, please. Cliff, is the grill ready?”
He stared at her. “You wanted me to start that?”
Before Norma Jean could get riled up, her husband burst out laughing. “Just kidding, lovebug. It’s all ready to go.”
Milán walked through the door. She said hello to her in-laws. “Do you need me to carry anything out to the back? Tiffany’s on her way around the side with a cooler.”
Norma Jean went over and kissed her daughter-in-law on the cheek. “Yes, honey. Can you carry that tray of condiments to the deck? Where are Justin and Sabrina?”
“They couldn’t make it,” Adrian informed her. “They’re on vacation.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad Tiffany’s here.”
The doorbell chimed. Norma Jean said, “You go on out, I’ll get it.”
Ivan stood on the front stoop with a roasting pan in his hands. “Did someone place an order for barbecue beans?”
“I sure did. Come on in, Ivan,” she replied, and then kissed him on the cheek. “Everyone is out back.”
Ivan followed her out to the deck. He set his contribution down on the table and greeted the group.
Tiffany waved and walked over to him. “Hi, Ivan, it’s good to see you,” she said.
They shared a secret smile before he said, “Likewise.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“He’s in Evanston visiting our grandmother.”
“You’ll have to take him a doggie bag,” Milán said, coming over to greet him.
The group conversed while eating the snacks Norma Jean had prepared. Heathcliffe worked the grill, and his son supervised.
“You do know that I’ve been the Grill Master in this family since before you were born,” his father told him. “It’s not like anyone has developed an advanced way of flipping burgers that I don’t know about.”
