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The funny part was, River and Emma had known each other as kids. One of those wealthy families that River took care of their boat. He and Emma had talked and flirted, then she left and they reconnected years later when Emma came here for vacation, sprained her ankle and had to go to the ER where River read the x-rays.
“I’m ready for snacks,” he said. “Mom, what do you have for me?”
“All your favorites,” his mother said. She was a good cook. For years he and River had been telling her to retire. Or go part time. Maybe find another job. Anything but waiting on people.
She said no. She liked what she did. New faces mixed in with the regulars.
Who was he to judge if she was happy? That was all he cared about.
“You’re the only woman who has a place in my heart,” he said, leaning in to kiss his mother and then stealing a piece of cheese off the plate.
No fancy holiday plates. Just extra dishes that his mother used to put snacks on. Or cutting boards. Long before those fancy boards became a trend, his mother was using them to serve food. Like the stuffed bread that she was getting ready to cut. She’d just leave it there for them to pick at.
There wasn’t anything fancy in his life and he liked it that way.
It kept things simple.
And simple was where he needed it when he found himself slipping and asking Ivy Greene questions last night.
He knew if he talked at all, she’d want to know more. Yep. Words flowed from his mouth like his cash did on the blackjack table last night.
“One of these days you’ll find your woman,” Emma said, walking in.
“If River could, then I should. Why did you have to see him first?”
“My wife wouldn’t give you the time of day if it wasn’t for me,” River said.
“Sad but true,” Raine said. “You’re just too gruff to people who don’t know you.”
“But those of us that do know you, love you,” Emma said.
“That’s why Emma fits into this family so well,” his father said from his favorite beat-up old recliner. “She not only tolerates you but she compliments you.”
“Thank you, Mike,” Emma said. “I made you a cherry pie.”
“And she sucks up to her father-in-law,” he said.
Brooks grabbed the box out of River’s hand and brought it to the kitchen to put on the counter. His mother could figure out what to do with it.
He grabbed a beer out of the fridge from where he’d put it not that long ago. He was ready for one and some football, thrilled he had the day off and wasn’t even on call.
He moved out into the doorway of the kitchen with his beer to see River’s hand go up. “Where’s mine? If too many of us go in the kitchen we get pushed out.”
“Does anyone else want one?” he asked.
“I’m good,” his father said.
He got another beer for River. As he was walking out, Raine squeezed past him. His mother turned and looked. “It’s one at a time,” Raine said. “Brooks it out.”
They’d heard that enough in their life. His mother didn’t like too many people underfoot in her kitchen. More so on a holiday.
“Get your wine and you get out too,” his mother said. “But you can pour one for me. I’ll be out soon.”
He heard his mother and Raine’s voices trail off some as he walked to the living room. If everyone else wasn’t talking, he could hear what was being said since the house wasn’t big enough for secrets.
He supposed that was part of the reason he was so close with his family. They might not have had money, but they had each other.
He sat on the couch next to River after handing over the beer. “Dad, are you going to let me get you a new recliner for Christmas this year?”
