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“Where’s Jolene tonight?” I ask.
Sympathy blankets her features. “She had to deal with something at her apartment.”
I go rigid and shoot a look at Jake. “What’s up with Jo?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t seen her since the broccoli thing.” To Sue-Ann, he says, “Can we get a plate of nachos for my brother, who works too much to eat?”
“And fries,” E adds.
“And a few orders of chicken wings.” Lennon grins at her. “We’re all growing boys.”
I’d laugh at the joke, but my mind is too busy puzzling out more Jolene drama. I haven’t seen her since soccer and beers. I assumed she and Jake were officially a couple or had at least been spending time together. More romantic dinners. Hanging out at his pad. Sleepovers wheretheydon’t sleep. Jake and I work together, but we’ve been busy, and I’ve steadfastly avoided the topic of their reunion. I was sure they’d be inseparable by now.
“You had dinner with her, though,” I say to Jake when Sue-Ann’s gone. “After the festival? Have you seen her since? Did she say anything about her apartment?”
He drums his thumb on the table and bounces his heel. Jake only gets twitchy when he’s upset or frustrated. “She couldn’t make it for dinner that night. Even made her favorite burgers, but she said no. Since then, I keep missing her when I call.”
I frown. The Jolene I know doesn’t like burgers. She says it’s mystery meat that could be made of eyeballs. That strange inconsistency aside, when I was here with Jo two days ago, a customer congratulated her on reuniting with Jake. My rumors have clearly circulated widely. I have no doubt Jake and she have both heard often that the other is pining for them or that they’re already a couple. If Jolene is avoiding Jake in the face of that gossip, I need to figure out why before pushing harder at their reunion.
At least I’ve made progress helping Lennon with his wiring issues.
“How’s the house?” I ask Lennon. “Still cooking on your camp stove and doing takeout?”
“Funny you should ask.” He stares at me for an unnerving beat. “I was in Sugar and Sips the other morning, and Dean of Dean Electric happened to be there too. He asked about my renovations—specifically, if I needed any help with the wiring.”
At least that plan is chugging along smoothly. “That’s awfully nice of him.”
“I thought the same. I also thought his offer was odd since he’s got jobs lined up until the fall.” Lennon’s staring becomes more of a judgmental scowl.
I shrug, secretly pleased my efforts were fruitful. I bartered with Dean so he’d fit in the work. In return, I’ll be helping him build a toolshed. “I was buddies with him in high school. Guess he just cares.”
I take a long pull on my beer. Something to fill my stomach until the food arrives and a way to avoid Lennon’s watchfulness.
“Mom should be here in four or five weeks,” Jake says, getting to the reason we’re here. “She said she didn’t want a fuss, but I think she deserves a fuss.”
“A party,” E says, nodding. “Something with her old friends. The quilting crew would be in.”
I give him a thumbs-up. “Love the idea.”
“Agreed,” Jake says.
Lennon spins his beer bottle. “I vote for a surprise. Maggie’s an event-planning guru. I could rope her in to help.”
“Books,” Desmond says while rubbing the side of his neck. “Mom loves reading. We could get a welcome-home cake in the shape of a book. I can make it with Max and Sadie. Maybe Delilah can help?” He focuses his thick-lashed eyes on E.
E cocks his head. “Since when does Mom love reading?”
“I don’t know.” Desmond reverts to his usual glower. “It was a guess.”
Lennon perks up like an attentive prairie dog. “Didn’t sound like a guess to me. That kind of evasiveness indicates there’s something you don’t want us to know.”
Desmond’s nostrils flare. “Thatkind of statement indicates you want to swallow your teeth.”
“No teeth will be swallowed,” I say, even though I sense we’ve just scratched the surface of teasing Des. The guy is too easy to rile.
Lennon nudges E with his elbow. “Do you think Des used to steal these alleged books Mom loves to read?”
“Questionable.” E’s face goes red the way it does when he’s about to diss one of us. “I assumed his bad tattoos caused a rare blood disorder that made it hard to focus on words. I doubt he can read.”
