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“Only that Amanda and Whitney are very happy to have you here, and that your stay is…open-ended.”
Jeanette felt a new swell of love and appreciation for her two cousins as Jason said this. They had always known how to be discrete. She made a mental note to do something nice for them.
“So, I hear you’re some sort of real estate mogul now,” she said, switching topics.
Jason’s sly side smile returned. “Does that surprise you?”
Jeanette shook her head.
“Not really. I always knew you were going to be a mogul of some sort. Happy to hear you’re on the up and up, though.”
Jason’s side smile spread into a wide grin and for the first time, he chuckled.
“So, are you going to ask?”
“Ask what?” Jason replied.
“Why I’m here,” Jeanette explained. He gave her another shrug.
“You’ll tell me if you want me to know.”
“You know, I’m starting to remember how annoying you were,” Jeanette quipped.
“And I’m remembering how funny you were,” he quipped back right away.
Unable to stop herself, Jeanette laughed and shook her head.
“You know, Amanda and Whitney are downstairs getting some lunch together. Do you want to come in and join us?”
“I appreciate the offer,” Jason replied, his tone genuine, “but I’ve got to get back to work. I just wanted to save that railing from you before you choked the life out of it.”
“You had perfect timing,” Jeanette joked. “One more minute and it would have been a goner.”
“Good thing I saw you then,” Jason quipped. He gave another sly smile and began to climb back over the railing. He paused when both feet were on the other side, and met Jeanette’s eyes a final time.
“I’ll see you around?”
Jeanette nodded.
“I’ll be here.”
Jason nodded once more and began to descend.
“Take care of yourself, Netti Spaghetti.”
3
The moment Jeanette opened her door, she caught the whiff of something delicious wafting up from downstairs. She let out a moan as her mouth began to water, and headed down the staircase.
“It smells amazing in here,” she said, pushing through the double kitchen doors. Unable to help herself, Jeanette smiled as she looked over the kitchen, a fresh wave of nostalgia washing over her. It still looked exactly the way it did when she was younger. Canary yellow walls, off-white Formica countertops, appliances that should have broken down decades ago, yet somehow, had stood the test of time.
Whitney popped her head out of the open fridge and smiled. She produced a pale pink Pyrex dish and closed the door with her hip. Amanda turned briefly from the stovetop, winked, and turned her attention back to the pot she was stirring.
“I hope you don’t mind leftovers,” Amanda said over her shoulder. “We just made this clam chowder last night so it’s fresh. We’ve got some leftover homemade bread too.”
“Sounds great,” Jeanette replied, taking a seat at the retro, oval-shaped table lined with six metal chairs that were covered with faded, cracked leather.
“I made some of Grandmama’s shrimp salad this morning too, and some deviled eggs,” Whitney added.
