Back inside, I used the kitchen sink to scrub my hands and noticed a big bowl filled with my favorite pasta salad.
“I made your favorite,” my mom said, walking to the fridge.
“I see. Buttering me up?”
Mom chuckled. “Never.”
I grabbed the bowl of pasta in one hand and a stack of napkins in the other, and then headed back outside.
“Myra, I need a plate. These are done,” my dad called out, and Mom came running with a platter. Together, they were a well-oiled machine.
“Sit,” Mom said again, and when I obeyed, she went back into the kitchen and returned with corn on the cob and fresh green beans.
“Am I that predictable?” I asked. “You knew I wouldn’t turn down a steak?”
“Don’t be silly,” my mom said, laughing as she sat down.
Once we’d all sat down and filled our plates, I said, “I bought some land and a house over by Mad River, close to skiing and biking paths. It’s private and quiet.”
Dad nodded approvingly. “Good for you, son. You deserve it.”
After chewing a bite of steak, perfectly medium rare, just like I like it, I said, “Well, it’s more for Branson. We can spend time there together. It’ll be good for him.”
Dad nodded and let it go, but he gave Mom a warning look as she squirmed in her seat. Obviously, she was waiting to pounce.
“This is good,” I said, ending the uncomfortable silence that followed.
Dad reached for his glass to take a sip. “Yeah, I think Hunnie wants her folks to start carrying these steaks locally for sale. She’s expanding their business in every direction. That girl has big plans.”
“She does,” I said, not knowing where this was going, but remembering Murphy asking me if Hunnie and I had ever had a thing. “I wonder why she didn’t try to partner with Scott. You know, Brenna’s friend from high school.”
“Eh,” my mom said, “he can be a jerk. He dropped Brenna.”
“Darling,” Dad said gently. “She was pregnant with someone else’s baby. There’s only so much rejection a man can take.”
He turned to face me, and I noticed how gray he was going at the temples. “Speaking of Hunnie, sometimes I think she wants to not only combine ventures, but lives, if you get my drift.”
“I do, and that’s not going to happen.” Before I could say any more, I stuffed my mouth full of pasta.
Mom pointed her fork at him. “Didn’t you hear me say his Murphy is back, Bill?”
“Myra, you gotta get those silly fantasies outta your head. Ben is a big boy, all grown up. He’s not having an affair with some girl from high school, a city girl yet. He may have gone off to that fancy school, but he’s back home now.”
“Actually, she lives in Vermont now and likes it,” I said carefully. “She’s doing some work for Hunnie too.”
“Really?” My mom’s eyes narrowed as she went in for the kill. She was a barracuda with only a tiny morsel of information.
“On social media. I would think she’ll be helping with the animals too.”
Mom put down her silverware, taking in every word I said. “This is so great. It’s time you did something for you, Ben. Not just the house in Mad River, which we all know is a veiled attempt at pleasing Brenna, making up for what Branson is missing. Plus, Bill, remember—Ben may not be here forever. Maybe a city girl is good for him.”
Ignoring her wink, I said, “It’s not anything yet, Mom. Please don’t run with this.”
“Oh, Ben, I can’t help it. You were crazy for the girl back then. I’m sure she’s an even more fabulous woman.”
“Let’s hear about the house and land,” my dad said, changing the subject.
And thank fuck for that.
