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“Maybe one day,” he said, smirking. “Can I bring donuts?”
“Please don’t,” she said, sounding a little desperate. “The kids don’t need sugar.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Bad idea. See you in a little bit?”
“Sure thing,” she said. “You may want to hurry. I threatened the twins under penalty of death if they touched your plants. That usually only works for a couple of days at most.”
“On my way,” Evan said, picturing the twins plucking leaves off of his beloved orchids. “See you in twenty.”
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into his sister’s driveway. When he got out of the car, three screaming children ran toward him. The smallest of the group, Maddy, flung herself at him and squealed, “Unca Evan!”
He easily caught the two-year-old bundle of energy and placed her on his hip. He greeted his two nephews, ruffling their hair. When he’d dropped off the plants, Christina had been at work and the kids were at day care. He’d put the plants on her back porch and left.
He looked up and saw his sister in the doorway, grinning. He walked over and pulled her into a one-armed hug. She squeezed him and said, “Great to see you, Ev.”
“You, too. It’s been too long,” he said.
“Now I know where you live. Expect that to change,” she said, chiding him.
“Gladly. Where’s Doug?” he asked as she led him inside.
His sister rolled her eyes and said, “Golf.”
Evan opened his mouth to respond, but Maddy tapped his shoulder and said, “Down, please.”
Grinning, he let her down and watched her take off.
“How’s the move going? Have you finished unpacking yet?” his sister asked.
“You know me. I compulsively organize, so yeah,” he said.
“Be sure to get some rest. You’re looking a little rough.”
Smirking, he recounted the story about the greenhouse and couch deliveries.
Wincing, his sister said, “Yeah. That’s really early to deliver something the size of a small house, Ev. I feel like you kinda earned that.”
Laughing, he nodded agreeably and said, “Yeah. I did.”
Studying him, Christina finally said, “I’m sensing an undercurrent here.”
Evan made a face but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t exactly deny it.
Raising her eyebrows, she gestured for him to continue.
Uncomfortably, he said, “She’s too young, and also a tenant.”
“How young?” Christina asked him warily.
“Twenty six,” he said, wincing.
Waving him off, she said, “That’s not too bad.”
“Tenant.”
“You didn’t see your face when you were talking about her,” Christina said, a grin spreading across her face.
Sliding his chair back, he stood and said, “All right. I’m getting my plants and going. That’s enough prying for one day.”
