Page 62 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

Mom’s mouth softened. “She was a happy girl.”

Something about the way she said was bothered me…

“What happened after the accident?” I asked. Dad immediately looked at Mom. She caught the warning.

“Nothing that’s ours to discuss.” She squeezed my arm before moving back to the workbench. Seemed like curiosity didn’t entitle me to answers from either of my parents. Mom lifted one of the foil-covered dishes. “Eat before six. We leave at six thirty.”

“Why are we leaving together?”

“Because parking will be awful.”

“I own a truck,” I pointed out.

“And I’m trying to save gas.”

Jax chuckled. “You drove here separately.” He plucked a piece of steamed broccoli from the dish. “Oh, hot, hot.” His sucked in cool air, chewing loudly as the green vegetable cooled.

“That isn’t relevant.” Mom swatted his arm. “And chew with your mouth closed.”

Jax raised his hands in the air and he disappeared into the garage restroom before she found another task for him. Mom kissed Dad’s cheek despite the grease on it and left.

“You boys think your sister is bossy,” Dad said to me. His eyes watched as Mom drove away.

“She learned it from someone,” I said, eyeing the food.

“Exactly.” He picked up his thermos. “Six thirty.”

“You were just trying to get out of it.”

“I enjoy being married, one day you will understand.”

I rolled my eyes because I doubted that day would ever come.

The shop closed at six. Not because Jax or I had finished everything. Because Mom called at five fifty-three and announced she was waiting.

Seven minutes later, Jax lowered the bay doors with the expression of someone being taken against his will.

I changed into a clean pair of jeans and a dark long-sleeved shirt in the office restroom, though no amount of soap completely removed the grease around my nails.

Dad waited near the front doors with his thermos. Mom saw it straight away.

“No.”

He looked at her with a pout.

She didn’t budge. “You are not bringing that into town hall.”

“Why?”

“Because normal people don’t carry industrial-sized coffee containers to evening meetings!”

“Normal people are dehydrated.”

“It’s coffee.”

“Coffee has water.”

Mom closed her eyes. Clover and Hunter pulled into the lot before Dad could continue defending himself. My sister stepped from the passenger side with three bakery boxes stacked in her arms and a scarf wrapped around her hair despite the warm evening. Hunter came around the truck and took two boxes from her without being asked.