Page 144 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“Does he, now?” Pat said, still eyeing him, but with a softly interested expression.

Despite the blush heating his cheeks, Steven nodded. “He does.”

“I expect one wouldn’t drive across the country for just anyone,” Pat said. “I know I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Steven set Shelly on her feet. “Well, I did.”

Pat nodded. “Best come inside, then.”

“Should I leave the car in the drive?”

“Actually.” Pat’s eyes twinkled suddenly. “Let’s put it in the garage. I’ll go open the door. Shelly.” She held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s put on a pot of coffee.”

When the garage door opened with a remarkably quiet glide of wheels and gears, Steven inched the car inside, paranoid he’d knock off a side-view mirror in the process. Of course, the garage was more than big enough to accommodate even Myles’s boat of a car. By the time he’d parked again, retrieved his duffel from the back seat, and got out, Pat and Shelly were standing at the inside door to the kitchen waiting for him.

“You might as well come inside to wait,” Pat informed him.

“Wait?”

“We have cookies.” Shelly pointed at a stack of tins on the counter.

“Myles is out with Jet, but I expect they’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you can tell me all about how you came to be returning his car instead of your… sister?”

“Yes.” Steven stepped into the immaculate, pine-scented kitchen. While the decor didn’t seem to fit Myles, the spotlessness did.

“Did your uncle makes those cookies?” Steven asked.

Shelly made a face. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Steven.”

“No, of course he didn’t. I don’t expect he’s reached baker level yet.”

“He made KD last night.” Her expression of distaste deepened. “The cheese powder was all glommy and the noodles were crunchy.” She lifted her chin. “But I ate it anyway, so he didn’t feel bad.”

“Mighty brave of you.”

“I know. But I love him, so…” She shrugged a shoulder, took his hand, and led him from the kitchen to the living room, kicking the door between the spaces when it started to swing shut on her. “Stop it, dumb-dumb.”

“Shelly,” Pat said.

“Well, it’s a dumb house.”

“Houses have feelings too,” Steven reminded her.

“Oh, I know. This one is grumpy, like, all the time.” She looked up at him. “I like yours. It likes us.”

“That it does.”

They were chuckling about the kitten discovery, with Shelly’s instant and riveted attention to his story, when the front door opened. From where he sat on the couch, Steven could look over his shoulder and see first Jet, then Myles step into the wide foyer.

Jet’s grin was instant.

Myles stared, an expression of shock on his face.

He had to be hallucinating. The pain from his hip was messing with his head, because he was looking at Steven, sitting casually on his sofa, arm across the back, a grin on his face and hair in his eyes.

“Hey!” Jet scooted across the foyer to the living room and executed an elaborate fist-bumping hand-shake ritual with the hallucination. “What the hell you doing here?”

Steven grinned. “Delivering your uncle’s car.”