I hugged her again, pulling her tighter this time. “We’re happy to be here. I promise. Let’s have fun. Enjoy the evening.”
She sniffed and smiled a little. “Okay. I’ll try.”
Anna and Ashton burst through the front door, tripping over each other to get inside first. Ashton had only been ten when Anna was born. They were more like brother and sister than uncle and niece. Anna elbowed him in the gut and shot out of his reach. He doubled over, groaning, and fell onto the couch. When Anna crossed under the doorjamb to the kitchen, she shoved her fists in the air and screamed, “I am victorious!”
Mom rolled her eyes but laughed. She missed having everyone at home. Said the quiet made her restless. She lived for this craziness.
Ashton moaned again and reached out, laughing. “Help me up, Mom.”
She pulled the dishrag off her shoulder and twisted it, a smirk stealing against her lips. “I’ll help you all right.”
Ashton shrieked as she snapped the rag at him. He covered his butt with his hands and bolted out of the room.
Dinner was good. The food. The conversation. The teasing. Once, Clem laughed so hard she cried. When Holden told the worst dad joke of all time—How do you know when a clock is still hungry? It goes back four seconds—I had to laugh, just because she was. Her smile was infectious.
“You look real pretty in that dress, Lemon,” Dad said, smiling at her. He had a soft spot for Clem. Always had. Probably would even more with Sophie gone.
“Thanks,” she said, barely above a whisper. She blushed and looked down at her lap, her dark lashes brushing against her pale skin. Right then the sunlight came through the kitchen window lighting up the freckles on her right cheek and it stole my breath—just like the time in eighth grade when we toured the Smithsonian art museum and I saw a Frederic Remington painting for the first time.
Clementine was fine art.
I caught her gaze and held it for a few seconds. I should’ve glanced away, but I really didn’t want to. Dad was right. She was stunning in that dress.
Holden cleared his throat loudly. Clem looked away, and I glanced over to see him scowling at me, shaking his head like I should know better. I frowned. What was that about? I thought he wanted things to work out between me and Clem. He’d badgered me about it up until a few weeks ago. Even offered to pay for cruise tickets for the two of us. He was positive she’d see me in a different light if we were sipping margaritas and lying in the sun in our bathing suits all day. No joke. When I reminded him that we had to live under the same roof with Anna for ninety consecutive days, he blew me off. Said he’d come stay with Anna and cover for us with Arlo if need be.
Mom walked around collecting plates. When she got toClem’s, she stopped. “Lemon, you didn’t even touch the egg salad. What on earth? You love my egg salad.”
Clem stiffened and sat up straighter, her hands gripping the seat of her chair. She still couldn’t tolerate eggs in any form. They came right back up. “Sorry, I ate too much of your delicious ham.”
Mom acted like she hadn’t even heard the compliment. “I’ll have to give it to the pigs now, I guess.” She huffed, like we were in a recession and Clem had wasted our last farthing. Mom had always been intense about food. Once I’d poured way too many Lucky Charms. She was so mad, she saved the soggy cereal and made me eat it the next morning.
Clem’s gaze skittered to mine, pleading to be rescued. I’d told her before we came, just to take a little of everything and push the stuff she couldn’t stomach around her plate to make it look like she’d eaten it. My plan had failed her and now I had to fix it.
I reached for Clem’s dish. “I still have room.” I really didn’t. Was stuffed to the gills. But I shoveled that egg salad in anyway. Ashton must’ve noticed I was turning green because he pulled the plate between us and helped me out. He was the most perceptive sibling I had—always knew when one of us was sad or angry without us saying a word—and I was grateful at that moment.
Dad stood and took the dishes from Mom. “Holden and Silas’ll get the cleanup. The rest of us are checking cows.” He took the rag from Mom’s shoulder and tossed it at Holden.
“I’m driving.” Anna jumped up and ran out.
“Hey,” Holden complained, holding his hands up. “What if I want to check the cows?”
Dad scoffed. “You been trying to get out of checking cows since you were ten. Don’t act like you like it now.” He grabbed Mom’s hand and guided her away.
“I guess so,” Holden scoffed. “Back then, we had to saddleup the horses. Now you got that fancy side-by-side that seats six. Why can’t Ash-hat do the dishes with Si?”
“Cause I want to show him the new Highland cows we got. You've already seen them." Dad cuffed Holden on the shoulder as he walked Mom out. “It ain’t gonna kill you to get your hands dirty, city boy.”
Ashton guffawed and wiggled his fingers in a wave as he backed out of the room. “Heh. Have fun, suckas.”
Clem pushed back from the table. “I’ll help.”
I smiled. “Nah. It’s okay. We got this.”
Her expression was tense. I understood. Being around my mom made her insecure. But Dad would be there and he could tell Clem was nervous. He’d make sure she was all right.
“Go. It’ll be fun. The Highlands are really cute.” Holden might ask for my man card for using the word cute, but there wasn’t a better way to describe them. And Clem loved “cute” farm animals.
“Okay.” She turned and walked out of the room, her heels clicking against the wood floor.
