Page 57 of Violent Little Thing

“Why else would they do it?” she asked. “They need your father. They offer me that position every three months like clockwork. There’s no other reason to let me go.”

“There is one reason.”

All three of us turned to find…

“Court?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to tell you that I had your key made for my house, and I went to your place first. Then remembered you said that you were coming here.”

“What do you need a key to his house for?” Mom teased.

I sighed. “Jessa’s mom was kicked out of her nursing home. They’re moving her into the mother-in-law suite. I’ll be needing a place to stay for a bit…”

“Which is why she’s moving into my place,” Court interjected. “We’re already fake dating anyway.”

“Fake dating?” Dad repeated. “What? Why?”

“That has to do with my ex-boss,” I grumbled. “And kind of because I know that it’s pissing Seraphina off.”

“Speaking of Seraphina,” Court murmured. “I think she’s the reason why Jessa’s mom was kicked out of her nursing home, and the reason that your mother was forcibly retired.”

“Really?” I blinked. “What does she get out of that?”

“Pissing you off,” Dad pointed out.

“You did get her kicked out of her favorite drinking place,” Mom pointed out.

“You heard about that?” I found myself smiling.

“I am good friends with the owner…”

I started to giggle. “I guess it was worth it, then. If the worst she can come up with is kicking you out of your job where you have to retire, then I guess that’s not too bad. She can’t buy any alcohol in town anymore. I might or might not have used my influence and the Dixie Wardens name to go to every place in three towns to say ‘don’t sell to her or else.’”

“Was that it?” Court came up the front walk and leaned his shoulder against the pillar that Mom’s cigarette was still smoking against.

He didn’t seem affected by the smoke, but I still put the cigarette out anyway.

Mom didn’t complain.

“I might’ve thrown your name around a bit, too.” I batted my eyes at him.

His lips quirked up, and I was hit then by the brilliance of his smile.

One day, when he had kids, his children would win the genetic lottery.

His pale gray eyes locked on mine, and he grinned at catching me staring.

Mom, Dad, Court, and I talked for a long time.

So long that Dad decided we needed to order pizza.

As Dad ordered, I said, “Court needs a cauliflower pizza.”

Dad frowned. “That’s…”

“Don’t argue with me.” I pointed my finger at him. “He’s healthy. We can’t complain that he likes to take care of himself.”

They didn’t need to know why he would never be anything but healthy.