Joan didn’t spare me a word or a glance as we all got seated and served ourselves. Mac sat beside me and became much more at ease as the meal progressed, which only seemed fair since I was the one all bent out of shape over my sister’s subtle accusation.
My focus had been entirely inward for the first part of breakfast. I’d eaten two gravy biscuits and three pieces of bacon before I felt a foot nudge me beneath the table.
I glanced up to find Mac watching me with obvious concern.You okay?she mouthed.
Nodding quickly, I flashed her a smile.
I didn’t know why I was so bothered. Joan had implied something was going on between Mac and me. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it might be the end of us if Mac got spooked by someone finding out. Yes, the secrecy thing had been my idea, but by now I could tell that Mac liked it. She enjoyed sneaking around. If that was how I had to hold her interest and keep her in this with me, then that’s what I would do. But I didn’t want harmless teasing from my older sister to impact that.
“Remember when Brady was, like, eight and refused to wear a shirt?” Candace said with a light in her eyes that indicated feral sibling torture was forthcoming.
“Is that why most of his photos on that shelf in the living room are of him topless?” Mac asked, looking amused and earning several laughs.
“It did last for a while,” my dad confirmed. “But I had a little man-to-man talk with him and broke the habit.”
I snorted at that. “No, you didn’t. Mom paid me a dollar after school every day that I kept my shirt on and the teacher didn’t have to call home.”
My father looked scandalized and betrayed. “Amy, is that true?”
“Yep,” my mother replied without remorse.
“So the lesson is,” Mac began, “if you want Brady to do something, you have to give him a dollar?”
My family laughed, and I joined them.
When the conversation turned to the other end of the table, I leaned close to Mac and whispered, “That doesn’t work anymore. I’m an adult and prudently invested. I now require sexual favors.”
Mac choked on her orange juice, and a little dripped down her chin. I passed her a napkin, chuckling.
But when I glanced across the table and caught Joan watching us, I didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
fourteen
MAC
Our February book club meeting was bustling when I arrived. Becca was hosting at the homestead that overlooked Clark land and Grandpappy’s below.
The house had originally been my great-grandfather William’s. When he’d moved to an assisted-living facility after a difficult dementia diagnosis, he’d asked my cousin Will to take over the responsibility and upkeep of the house. Will had done some renovations here and there throughout the years, and even more now that Becca was in the picture.
The kitchen had been updated months ago, and that was where everyone was now, gathered around the large central island where Becca had arranged a giant charcuterie spread directly onto the surface. It looked like a work of art, with small dishes of jams, dips, and spreads nestled in among fruit, slices of cheese, neatly arranged crackers, and flowers made out of salami and prosciutto. It was honestly too beautiful to eat, but everyone looked to be giving it their best effort.
I greeted Becca with a big hug, then said hello to Chloe and her friend Andie. Magdaline was there from Apollo’s restaurant, along with my sister, Bonnie. Candace and Joan Judd were passing out mimosas to everyone. My eyes snagged on Larry sitting at the end of the island on a tall stool. She was a slash of dark in an otherwise bright kitchen, and her mood matched her goth-pixie attire.
Larry had been off for the last couple of weeks. We still saw each other at work, but my tasks kept me mostly in the office. We were officially in the off-season now. There was no corn maze or pumpkin patch or tree lot to staff. But Grandpappy’s was still open to the public for hayrides and apple-cannon shooting, and for any visitors to the General Store or the Bake Shop.
Larry and I saw less and less of each other these days. It probably didn’t help that I’d been spending most of my free time with Brady. But when my cousin and I did manage to hang out at family dinners at Aunt Maggie’s or trivia night, she’d been reserved, not her usual sassy self.
Things had been different since that bonfire last month, and I wasn’t sure what was going on. She’d yet to open up about whatever was troubling her. The shift in her mood had me concerned. Larry hadn’t confided in me, and the longer she kept dealing with whatever it was on her own, the more worried I became.
I made my way to her now, dragging over a nearby stool and plucking the cracker out of her outstretched hand. “Hey, cousin.”
“Hi, Mac,” Larry said, tone flat. “You’re late.”
“I wanted to run home and get changed after closing,” I said without meeting her eyes. Brady had stopped by my office after work, and things had gotten a little, ah, messy. Good messy. But I’d needed to run home for a new shirt. And underwear. I bit down on my grin, thinking about how I’d see him later when we finished up our girl dinner and monthly book discussion.
Candace reached between us, passing Laramie a champagne flute. “Hey, Mac, would you like a mimosa? We’ve got orange, cranberry, and apple.”
I smiled, genuinely happy to see Brady’s sister. “Hi, Candace. Yeah, apple would be great.”
