Page 18 of Big Dill

“In here,” I call.

Sadie sweeps in like it’s her place, and not mine. Her gaze lands on Jami, her smile widening just a touch.

“Well, wasn’t Verna right,” she says, nodding once. “Look at you, Ducky. Pretty little thing indeed.”

Jesus. Not her too.

“Coffee?” I ask. She shakes her head. “What brings you by?”

“Verna said Jami got in last night,” Sadie continues, already setting the pie she’s carrying on the table. “And I just ran into Jaxon. He said Brody was going to show you around today.”

“We were just talking about your pie,” Jami says.

Sadie beams. “Dig in. Around here, it’s perfectly acceptable to eat pie for breakfast.”

Jami’s mouth curves into a genuine smile. “Ah. A perk of small-town living. That’s one thing I could get used to.”

Sadie hums, thoughtful. “Some things are easy to get used to.” Her gaze sharpens slightly. “But not everyone’s cut out for a small town.”

Here we go.

She glances at me. “Dad, Ray…. Elise.”

The name hits like a jab to the ribs. I swallow hard. Why the hell is she bringing her up?

Jami’s curiosity sparks. She opens her mouth, no doubt ready to ask, but Sadie turns back to her before she can, continuing with, “And you.”

Jami narrows her eyes. “What about me?”

“You’re not cut out for a small town.”

“Sadie,” I warn.

She holds up a hand. “I’m not being unkind. Truly. You just have city girl written all over you. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her tone softens. “I just don’t think you could make it here, Ducky.”

“I—” Jami lifts her chin. “I could make it.”

Careful. Controlled. But there’s a sting under it. From what Jaxon’s told me, she’s spent her whole life being told what she can and can’t handle. Where she fits. Where she doesn’t. And clearly, she’s damn tired of it.

Sadie’s expression shifts, gentling. “It would be lovely if you could,” she says. “We’d love for you to stay. Wouldn’t we, Brody?”

I scrub a hand over my chin, buying myself a second. What game is she playing?

“Yeah,” I say finally. “We would.”

Sadie smiles, satisfied, and tightens her scarf. “Well, I’d better go. Don’t want to be late. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

She’s out the door almost as fast as she came, leaving behind the smell of cold air and fresh apple pie. The house settles again, quiet enveloping us.

Jami looks at me, eyes deeply curious.

“Who’s Elise?”

5

Jami

Curiosity hums through my veins as he turns the stove off and slides the eggs onto a plate. The scrape of metal on ceramic sounds louder than it should in the small kitchen, probably because there’s a new kind of quiet hovering over us.