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Annie and I headed to the dining room. Ashleigh was seated already, deep into her phone. Julian was in the kitchen, sautéing vegetables, as my mom pulled out a fresh pie from the oven. Julian had been graced with all of the culinary skills. I knew how to order takeout, and that was about as far as I went other than some breakfast.

“Glad you made it,” my mom said, coming over and kissing me on the cheek. She pulled Annie into a hug.

Annie retrieved the wine she’d taken with her. “I brought this with me. It’s a Burklee Hill red.”

“Oh, wonderful. I’ve been meaning to try all the local wineries, so I have a way to determine whether my sons’ new venture is worth anything.”

Annie laughed. Julian just glanced over at me with an eye roll. Typical.

“Do you need help with anything?” Annie asked. “I’m not super great in the kitchen, but I can serve or plate.”

“No, no. None of that. I want you to relax,” she said. She passed me a corkscrew. “Pop that open and pour your girlfriend a drink. I don’t want you touching any of the food.”

I shook my head. “I’m not going to burn anything, Mom.”

She shot Annie a look of despair. “I apologize that Jordan doesn’t know his way around a kitchen. He has that huge kitchen back at his house and only eats Chinese.”

“Luckily, I like Chinese,” Annie volunteered.

I popped the cork, which I was actually excellent at, and found glasses in my mother’s dining hutch. I poured glasses for everyone, passing them out.

“Ashleigh?” I said, offering her a drink.

She wrinkled her nose. “I actually only drink hard liquor.”

I nearly choked. “All right.” I turned back to Annie and found her trying not to laugh as she sipped her wine.

“We don’t keep hard liquor in the house,” my mom grumbled under her breath.

Because my dad was an alcoholic.

Okay, when I’d said that my mom liked everyone, I meant, almost everyone. Because I had never seen her dislike anyone like she disliked Ashleigh Sinclair. To be fair, none of us really liked her, but Julian did, and we’d learn to deal.

My mom tapped me to carry food out to the table, and then we were all seated, loading our plates with the roasted chicken and vegetables, fruit salad, and creamed corn. My mom was an excellent cook, and we all dug in. The pie still needed to cool, but I had every intention of devouring it after eating.

“So, Annie, tell us about medical school,” my mom said. “How does that all work?”

“Well, I’m in an emergency medicine rotation, where I work at the hospital with a doctor on staff. I want to be an ER doctor. So, I’ve been interviewing for residency programs. ER residency is three years, and then I go full-time.”

“And where are you going for residency?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet. We have to submit our top choices soon. We find out where we’re going on Match Day at the end of next month.”

“Exciting!” my mom said.

“Why would you want to be an ER doctor?” Ashleigh asked. “There’s, like, dermatology and plastic surgery and shit.”

“We need ER doctors, Ash,” Julian jumped in.

“Yeah, but…still.”

“Well, I watched someone I care about die, and if there’s another emergency, I want to be able to help. So, I chose to work in the ER.”

“I think it’s admirable,” my mom said.

I squeezed Annie’s hand under the table. “She’s great at it, too.”

“Sounds terrible,” Ashleigh blurted, looking down at her phone again.

My mom clenched her jaw. “Why don’t we do pie?”

She stumbled as she entered the kitchen again, nearly falling. Julian jumped to his feet and was at her side almost instantly. She laughed, waving him away.

“I’m fine. Just tripped.”

I frowned. My mom had never been clumsy. What was that all about?

Julian followed her into the kitchen anyway and served up a blackberry pie that was maybe the best thing I’d ever eaten.

“You are going to have to give me this recipe,” Annie said. “It’s incredible. I’ll probably butcher it, but I could try.”

“I’ll make you a card,” my mom said with a wide smile. She loved to hand out recipes. She had an enormous book of them.

“I might have to make Sutton help me, so I don’t screw it up.”

“Oh, I love her little bakery downtown, Death by Chocolate. The chocolate-mousse cups are my favorite,” my mom said with relish.

“It’s okay,” Ashleigh said. “I mean, I like that other place better. What’s it called? In Cactus Alley.”

Julian shrugged, trying and failing to rein in his girlfriend. “I don’t know. I like Death by Chocolate.”

“I guess.” Ashleigh still looked at her phone.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Annie tried to engage her in conversation, but Ashleigh was on a full rampage today. She clearly didn’t want to be here. I didn’t even know why she’d bothered to come if she was going to act like this.

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