“Out here,” she called loudly, after she heard his door creak open, then slam shut.
Stat rounded the corner, and she couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face. Her big brother was the one person on earth Petula loved with all her heart. He was made of pure gold, inside and out, never demandinganythingof her, which was why she was so willing and eager to do things like cook for him and keep the house spotless.
Someoneneeded to pamper him.
“Grilling tonight, huh?” he chuckled, putting his tools down on the picnic table alongside a brown paper bag. He moved over next to her to have a look at the stainless appliance that hadn’t been used all winter, and gave her hair an affectionate ruffle. “It looks a little rough. I can scrape it down if you want.”
It was just like him to try and take any burden, no matter how small, off her hands.
“Nah. I’ve got this.” She sent a gentle elbow into his ribs. “You worked hard all day, and…” Petula made an exaggeratedly nasty face, “…phew! You smell like it, too. Go take a shower, skunk-boy. Dinner will be ready in forty minutes.”
Stat lifted an arm and sniffed his pit, flashing her a grin. “You’re so full of shit. I smell like a freaking rose.”
“Right. More like week old rose-water left to fester in the vase, so get lost.” She brandished the cleaning brush in his direction.
He laughed. “Okay. Fine. I get it.Don’t interfere with my cooking experience, Stat,” he mimicked, then backed off, raising both hands while still full-on smiling. “But you might want to see what I brought home for you.” He canted his head toward the brown bag, then picked up his tools, and whistling, went inside.
Curious, Petula went over to the offering and opened it up.
Damn, the man was good.
Chunky Monkey. Her favorite. It was almost as if he’d known she’d had a stressful day.
Petula practically pranced inside, putting the container in the freezer for later. She called up the stairs. “Thanks, Stat. You’re the best.”
“Back attcha, Sis,” he yelled down, then the bathroom door slammed and Petula went back to clean the grill. It didn’t take long to have it spic and span, lit, and the swordfish on and sizzling.
Forty minutes later, right on the nose, food was on the table and Petula poked her head into her brother’s office where he’d disappeared after his shower.
“Chow’s on,” she told him, then noted his scowl.Not good.He was normally so even keeled. “Problem?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he huffed and pushed himself up out of his chair.
“Wanna talk about it?” Fair was fair. She’d be chewing his ear in a few minutes.
“Sure. That factory owner who’s on the verge of accepting my bid up north?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s trying to slip a few additional things into the specs that didn’t figure in my original estimate.”
“Huh. You’re not going to let him get away with that, are you?” Petula queried with a raised brow.
“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe?” Stat shrugged. “I’ll have to see if he messes with anything more. It’s a decent sized job, and will keep the guys busy for most of this year, so I might let the man feel like he’s getting a few, small concessions. We’ll see.” His face cleared, and he gave an appreciative sniff. “On a better note, dinner smells great.”
“You always say that,” Petula chided, but she preened.
She was happy whenStatwas happy, which…
Rats. She hoped she wouldn’t spoil his appetite by bringing up the personal conundrum she couldn’t shake, but she needed his advice. And he’d immediately know how important this was to her, because it was a rare thing for Petula to deviate from her routine and discuss something other than her mundane day and the few quips she could spin about odd things that happened in the office.
She dished up the food then sat, ramping up her courage, waiting until after Statler had his first few bites and was moaning appreciably. She pushed some mashed potatoes around on her plate, and dove in.
“So… I was, umm, properly introduced to one more Sothard brother today.”
“Oh, yeah?” he said, not catching on to anything different, yet. “Which one?”
Age-wise, Stat was between the oldest sibling, Trask, and the next in line, Vincent. Being from several towns over, he’d played football against Vince, and had at one point told Petula—when she’d mentioned the clan—that he remembered that one brother from way back, and had since done work for the rest of them after he and Petula had moved to the outskirts of Bangor thirteen years earlier.
