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Paul nodded approvingly. “Somehow, I believe that.”
“I knew it was a good hand, but—”
“A good hand?” Paul laughed. “Honey, four queens is more than a good hand. I’ve only ever seen one that good a handful of times in all the years I’ve been playing.”
I leaned forward. “And that’s like nearly two hundred years of poker, so that’s saying something.”
Paul eyed me in a way that might have made my preteen self quake in his shoes. It hadn’t taken me long to learn that my stepfather’s bark was far worse than his nonexistent bite. “Shut it, you,” he said. “I might be slow and infirm, but I’m older and meaner than you.”
Claire laughed. “You might be older, but that’s the only truth to that statement.”
Easily placated, Paul smiled. “You’re sweet. I’ll tell you what.” He pushed all the chips across the table so that they were sitting in front of her. “We’ll pretend you did the sensible thing and went all in. I’m going to look at the broken toaster like Annette asked.”
“What’s wrong with the toaster?” I asked.
“It was fine yesterday,” Paul said. “I think your mother broke it on purpose to give me something useful to do.”
“Huh.” I wouldn’t put it past her. Paul was doing pretty well with his recovery, but all of us kids were still pitching in to keep him entertained.
The front door opened. “Hello!” called my mother.
“Speak of the devil,” Paul whispered.
Mom breezed in, her arms lined with plastic grocery bags. “I heard that.”
I jumped to my feet and took most of the bags from her. “Jesus, Mom. Are you trying to get them all in one go?”
“Not even close. There’s more.”
“I’ll help you.” I glowered at Paul. “And you can stay here.”
He put his hands up. “I’m not arguing. It’s cold out there.”
I snorted. He must have still been gunning for the Carolina tickets with this good behavior. As I followed my mom through the kitchen, I heard him say, “You can be my repair assistant. Do you know anything about toasters?”
I smiled as I stepped into the garage and closed the kitchen door behind me. “Why didn’t you come in this way?” The garage was right next to the kitchen, and it housed the secondary fridge.
“The garage door opener started acting up yesterday, but I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Good idea.” If Paul knew, he might try to climb up a ladder to look at it. I peered up at the garage door. “I’ll take a look at it before I go.” I turned and almost ran smack into my mother. “What the hell? Why did you stop?”
She lifted her chin with a knowing smile. “‘We’re just friends,’ you said. ‘She’s the enemy,’ you said.”
I frowned. “I never said that.”
“I’m paraphrasing.”
For half a second, I’d worried about bringing Claire around to my folks’ house now that we were spending time together. But it wasn’t like it was a secret. Those didn’t exist in my family.
“We’re still on opposite sides of the resort proposal,” I informed my mom.
Her brow furrowed. “Really? I’d just assumed…”
I brushed past her to manually lift the garage door. “We’re putting that aside. I’m voting against rezoning.”
She sighed. “I hope that won’t become a point of resentment in your relationship.”
“It won’t, because we’re not in a relationship.” I lined my hands with grocery bags and turned to find my mother agape.
