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Eli regards his mother, a smile dimpling his chubby cheeks, and I find myself wishing he would talk. I know kids his age should be able to string together a few words and possibly even complete sentences, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than a couple words at a time. There are times I’ve considered bringing it up to Jenna, but I usually back out because he could simply just be taking more time to start talking than other kids.
It would also mean I care more than I’m willing to admit, and I don’t think I can do that.
Marshall pushes back from the table and grabs a stack of plates as he stands up. “I’m lucky because my wife would rather cook than clean. Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty sure I get the better end of the deal.”
“Except when you purposely load things in the dishwasher the wrong way.” Jess gives her husband a mock glare as she eases to her feet. “Then I technically end up doing both.”
I’ve never understood why my sister has to have the dishwasher arranged a certain way—especially the silverware—but I guess it’s just one of her quirks. If I comment on it, she points out that I’m attached to what she refers to as my sofa version of theRolling Turd.What she doesn’t realize is that I have a reason why I’ve never bought a different couch. I just don’t want to talk about what the reason is.
“I’ll help Jen with the dishes,” I say as I carry the pan that previously contained runza casserole to the marble-topped island. (If you’re not a native Nebraskan, you’ll have to Google what a “runza” is.) Between the six of us, we ate all except what might be enough for one person to have for a second meal.
“You guys don’t have to do them.” Marshall rolls up the sleeves of his long sleeve t-shirt. “I’ll handle these. I think Jess wanted you to help her with something in the nursery, anyway.”
My sister visibly lights up. “Oh, yes! I almost forgot about that. We want to paint the room, but since we don’t know if this baby is a girl or a boy, I don’t know what color to choose.Andwe got a few toys because I was so excited I couldn’t resist, so maybe Ella and Eli would like to test them out? Just to make sure they work well.”
I’m not much help when it comes to paint colors, so I hang back to help clean up the kitchen with Marshall while Jess takes the others down the hall. Though this house isn’t extremely big—it does have one more bathroom than mine, and the kitchen is more spacious and updated—it fits Marshall and Jess well. Originally constructed to rent out as a vacation spot for less fortunate families, there are two identical cottages next to it for that. Marshall moved in last year after the high tourist season was over, and even though I know he and Jess will eventually find a bigger house, they’ve made this one their own since they got married.
There are some wedding pictures on the wall in the living room arranged just-so, dog toys strewn on the wooden floors, and the fridge holds a collection of pictures, a weekly schedule, and whatever else my sister hung on it, including motivational sayings she must’ve printed out. Since this cottage was brand new construction last year, everything in it is modern and clean, but my sister added a feminine touch that makes it feel lived-in and homey. It’s probably why we spend more time here than we do at my house when we get together. When I want time to myself, especially after a long shift, the comfort of my remote house has always been a balm to my soul. It’s surrounded by woods that give me a perfect place to walk, and my back door is literally steps from the lake. The fact that I’m only a couple miles from downtown makes it convenient when I get called into work, though, and I have a private location without having to be in the middle of nowhere.
“So, you’re renovating a house.” Marshall passes me a pan to dry off, breaking into my thoughts. “I can’t say I expected that one.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. I need to set up a time to meet with you and Wynn. I’d like the kids to be there so they can ask questions or provide their ideas.”
“There are four of them, right?”
“Yes. Luka Porter, Mazzy Young, Colin Maks, and Alessia Moore.” I place the casserole dish in the cupboard to the left of the stove, then start drying the mixing bowl Marshall placed on the mat. “Colin works at my aunt’s marina and Luka’s worked at the golf course the past couple years, so you might know them. I don’t know. Alessia works at Falls Market, and Mazzy works a few days a week at Cozy & Grounds. I don’t think she and Ember’s shifts ever cross, though.”
“Oh, yeah, I think Em has mentioned her a couple times. She’s the redhead with tattoos, right?”
I nod. “Yep. None of them really have much in common, to be honest. Other than illegal activity. Colin pulled a fake I.D. stunt a couple weeks ago, I’ve pulled Luka over for speeding twice, Alessia tried to steal a few items from Falls Market a few months ago, and Mazzy’s been involved with a crowd that vandalized Dairy Dock last summer.”
Marshall lets out a low whistle, but he grins as he looks at me. I’m pretty sure he’s always smiling in some way, shape, or form. He can be serious, but when I think of Marshall, I can’t help but compare him to a Labrador retriever or something. He’s tall and fit and responsible, but he’s also a screwball. I can usually count on him for a good laugh when I need it.
“You’ve got an interesting group put together,” he says. “But I have a question.”
“I might not have an answer, but shoot.”
“Do any of them know anything about renovating?”
I can’t help but smile. “That’d be a no. But they’re about to learn a thing or two.”
“Hey, that’s the best way to do it. I bet they’ll find a few muscles they didn’t know they had.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Truthfully, I don’t want to see them suffer anything, but a little physical labor might make them reconsider doing anything on the wrong side of the law again. I’m not above finding other projects once this one’s finished if they don’t learn a couple things from this one. “Hopefully the pain of some actual work will keep them too occupied to think about doing other things they shouldn’t be.”
“A guy can hope. As far as the meeting, I know we’re supposed to be on a site tomorrow, but we should have time next week.” Marshall places several pieces of silverware in the dishwasher, and he must want to sleep with his wife tonight instead of in the doghouse because he separates them exactly like my sister likes it. Sharp knives on one end, forks in the next slot, spoons in the middle, spatulas or other utensils next, and butter knives on the opposite end. “You’d probably be better texting Wynn, though. He’s better with the schedule than I am. You know, now that I have a wife to come home to instead of working overtime at the office. Then again, maybe you don’t since you don’t have a wife at home.”
“Clearly my sister’s been rubbing off on you,” I mutter under my breath, leaning my hip against the counter. “I’m perfectly content with my life, thanks.”
Marshall snorts. “You know, I think those are the famous last words of every man right before he falls in love. I should know—I speak from experience.”
I make a show of rolling my eyes, but my chance to respond is cut off when Beau and Ella come running from the hallway. Ella halts when she gets around the island, and I try not to smile as she pauses to catch her breath.
“Jess needs you…to go in there,” Ella says in between little gasps of air, her hands fisted and propped on her hips. If I ever need someone purely for intimidation reasons, I’ll remember the serious look Ella’s giving us right now. Too bad she’s too young to deputize. “’Cause they need you to hang a something.”
“Well then, we should probably get in there.” I say that with mock seriousness only moments before I scoop Ella into my arms and turn her sideways. I’ve done this so many times I lost count a while ago, but I know she gets a kick out of me flying her around like an airplane, so I really don’t care. She laughs as I fly her around the island, detour around the sofa, and eventually end up in the nursery, where I gently let her down to the wooden floor. “Your Highness.”
Ella giggles, and I’m not sure if she does it intentionally or not, but she leans against my leg and her arm wraps around it as she watches Marshall in fascination when he takes the shelf Jess must want hung. I wish I could say this doesn’t affect me, but I feel like you’d have to be all but heartless for it not to. Especially when she glances up at me and smiles, letting me know she feels safe, then turns her attention back to Marshall.
