Page 106 of Out Of A Fix

“And Rick and Brynn?” Luke prodded his mother, still asking questions.

Looking up from her granddaughter, she said, “Brynn and I are very different people, and we share no common ground.”

“She likes to garden,” he teased her.

“It’s a lot more than that, Luke,” she snapped. “All that farm-to-table business is beyond me. And the things she has them eating, all vegan, I simply can’t.”

“You’re saying an all-vegan Thanksgiving is not for you?”

“Her kids pull carrots out of the ground, dust off the dirt, and eat them.”

“It’s barbaric,” John chimed in from the floor, where Darwin was now lying beside him, both in the starfish position.

“Are they healthy?” Luke asked with a gleam in his eye, knowing the answer already. Brynn and Rick had three boys, ages nine through thirteen, and their family farm sold all manner of vegetables, as well as honey and cider. That too had been in the file.

“Yes, they’re healthy,” she said belligerently. “But going there makes me grind my teeth.”

I was betting it did.

“Brynn wants your father and I to work for our meals.”

Luke shrugged.

“I don’t see you going to Le Claire to visit,” she said sulkily.

“Why does Jenna hate you?” he asked, circling back.

“Because I didn’t think she was right for your brother when they got married, and I still don’t. She’s very materialistic.”

“But she loves him like crazy,” he reminded her. “And her kids.”

She was pressing her lips together tight but then said, “Yes, she does.”

His smile was beautiful, and just looking at him made my stomach roll.

“I’m loving the honesty,” he stated.

“I am not,” she replied flatly, “but it’s how this works now.” She glanced over at her husband. “I think you’re good, John. Time to return to the table.”

“I’m fine here,” he told her.

She scoffed. “You can’t get up, can you.”

“I could, I simply don’t want to.”

“So you’re going to live there now?”

“I think so, yes.”

She laughed then, and it was a good sound. “Would you like some help?”

“That would be nice,” he confessed.

Luke first darted over to his mother and kissed her on the cheek before jogging over to his father to help him up. Everyone was smiling except Quinn, who was blowing her nose with a napkin.

“Dar, get the box of tissues from the bathroom for Quinn.”

“Thank you,” she said to him, then turned back to me and smiled. Or tried to. The sneeze, and then another, interrupted her.