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I’d gotten lucky when Steve married her, because the woman wasn’t my sister-in-law, she was my sister in all the ways that counted.
“He’s still so delicious,” I groaned, and she grinned before she took another bite. “Seriously, Kenny. It’s unfair. He didn’t get old and fat; he’s even more gorgeous than he was when we were kids.”
“Grams thinks so too,” she said breezily, and I snorted at the idea of my ninety-seven-year-old grandmother ogling someone less than half her age.
Eyes off my man, old woman.
I straightened, startled by the vehemence of the thought.
“Can’t fault her for good taste,” I admitted, and Kennedy choked on a giggle and her toast, quickly washing down both with the rest of her coffee.
“At her age, I’m not sure taste has anything to do with it. That greedy old bat takes whatever she can get.” She grinned at me. “Steve wants to have a barbecue this weekend, so you’d better be prepared to beat Grams back with a stick. Your brother was planning to invite Adam and I have a feeling his interest in attending has just intensified.” She smirked at me.
Something in my belly flip-flopped when she said that. Something that felt an awful lot like interest I couldn’t afford to have in a man who clearly didn’t feel the same way about me.
Since the weekend was only four days away, I ran errands for Kennedy, picking up party supplies while she put baby Teagan in a bouncy chair on the back deck and worked on making the yard presentable for company.
My brother and sister-in-law had worked hard on my childhood home and Kennedy’s eye for design and color combinations had taken a stodgy old house to something gracious and beautiful. They’d earned every right to be proud of their lovely home, and hosting often meant they were able to show it off.
The rest of the week I helped Kennedy with decorating, cleaning, and I spelled her off with Teagan when she needed to catch a nap. Finally Teagan’s teeth had broken through and at last she was more a cute baby and less a demon, but there had been a couple days I was convinced she was possessed.
Steve had been wildly busy at work and when he finally got home late that Friday night, Kennedy and I were in the kitchen cooking and baking like maniacs–well, Kennedy was. I was just taking orders, since I could only cook basic things and my baking attempts typically involved a fire extinguisher.
“You trying to burn my house down?” my brother teased when he saw me standing at the stove and I lifted a fist, middle finger fully extended, over my shoulder. It made him snort with laughter and he moved quickly to catch Kennedy in his arms, planting a noisy, sloppy kiss on the top of her head.
See what I mean? Disgusting.
“So, Mads…” Steve’s voice was full of mischief. He’d always taken his older brother duties very seriously and was still a huge tease. “My wife tells me a certain someone walked you home a few nights ago…and when I ran into my best friend in the parking lot tonight, guess who turned about thirty-seven shades of red when I asked if he had a nice time flirting with my sister?”
Steve couldn’t hold it in. He burst into deep, booming laughter and Kennedy whirled to clap her hand over his mouth. “Hush. The baby just went down and if you wake her up,you’reon duty.”
“Whatever.” I huffed at my brother. Steve could turn me into a twelve-year-old in a heartbeat, complete with righteous indignation and impressive eye rolls. He’d always known exactly which buttons to push; it was a sibling superpower. “We were just catching up, that’s all.”
That made Steve laugh even harder. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Hey, Kenny…” He wiggled his eyebrows at his wife. “Wanna go upstairs and…catch up?” His grin was evil and Kennedy socked him hard on the shoulder. His smile stretched wider and he trapped her in his arms, raining sloppy kisses all over her face while she squealed and squirmed.
In retribution, Kennedy set him up at the counter with a mountain of vegetables she needed chopped. I could hear the steadythwackof the knife as he worked, and she moved between the fridge and the island, pulling out the things she needed to assemble kabobs.
It was late when we finally went to bed and I broke into my secret stash of disposable earplugs, the ones I’d sometimes worn in one ear in active combat zones so I could catch more than five minutes of sleep at a time. The last thing I wanted to hear was my brother and sister-in-law “catching up,” and I made a mental note to suggest their next big home improvement project include soundproofing their bedroom.
Since the party was to start at noon, I was up early. I had paperwork to complete for a background check, so I gathered everything I needed, filled out everything I had, then sent it over to Scott Katsaros to run. My official interview with him wasn’t coming up as quickly as I’d have liked, but I was ruthlessly organized because to plan for everything and to keep my ducks in a row made my life easier. In fact, it had even been known to save lives.
I was in the kitchen before nine, slamming back coffee while I helped Kennedy with the last-minute things. The woman didn’t know how to do things small, and the backyard had been transformed into a lush paradise in the last few days, a huge new pergola set up with freshly-planted vines starting to creep up the posts.
There was a hanging garden wall along the fence, with vining plants and vegetables and an assortment of pots she’d staggered in between.
She’d strung twinkling lights through the trees and over the pergola and I had no doubt they’d turn the yard into a magical fairyland after dark.
There was a huge fabric awning stretched over the deck to keep it cool and tables full of wrapped or covered food, flanked by two huge coolers packed with water, beer, soda and juice.
Kennedy always thought of everything. She was a professional organizer both on the clock and off. Color coordination and organization ran through her veins. Disorganization was a level of chaos she would not abide, even in theory.
While Steve fired up the smoker on one side of the deck and the grill on the other, I took Teagan from Kennedy and let her buzz around the kitchen like the neurotic little mess she was. I knew better than to get in the way of that cyclone, and I spread a blanket under a tree and played with Teagan until she started fussing.
T’s naps were beginning to stretch further and further apart. Gone were the days of a ten a.m., a one p.m., and a four p.m. nap. Now she’d make it to noon, conk out for two hours, then carry on like a champ until 7:30 each night when someone flipped a switch and she turned into the devil.
You think I’m joking? I’m not joking, though it was hard to say which side the Satan gene had come from.
After putting her down for her nap and tucking the monitor in my pocket, I hurried to my room to run a brush through my hair and slick on a little lip gloss. If I did more than that, my brother would notice and he’d tease me endlessly, but I took the chance and with a light hand I also applied mascara. It was pointless. Stupid. But so what?
