She gave me the look that said she knew better but wasn't going to argue in the driveway. "Come on. Everything's getting cold."
Inside, the house smelled like roast beef and yeast rolls, the same Sunday dinner smell that had filled this place for as long as I could remember. The dining room table was already set with the good dishes she usually saved for company. Voices carried from the kitchen. Tanner's low rumble alternated with Sadie's sassy replies. It sounded like they were arguing. Some things never changed.
I followed her into the kitchen, where Tanner leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and Sadie stood at the sink, drying a platter with more force than necessary.
"Finally," Sadie said, glancing over her shoulder. "I was starting to think you'd bailed."
"Tempting," I said.
Tanner's mouth twitched. "Town's already talking about you being back. You know that, right?"
"Of course they are.” My shoulders dropped a notch. “It's Mustang Mountain."
"Ruby asked me three separate times if you’re planning to sell Aunt Lois's place." Tanner leaned closer.
"What'd you tell her?"
"That it wasn't my business." He straightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But now I'm asking."
My mother shot him a look. "Tanner. Let her sit down first."
He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the question hung in the air as we moved into the dining room. My father was just taking his seat at the head of the table. He nodded when I came in, his version of a warm welcome.
"Claire. It’s good to have you home."
"Hi, Dad." I went over and gave him a one-armed hug. My family wasn’t the touchy-feely type. The only one who ever gave tight, warm hugs like she meant them was Aunt Lois. I might miss her hugs more than anything else.
We settled into our usual spots with Tanner across from me, Sadie to my left, my mother at the far end nearest the kitchen. The food made its way around the table in silence, plates filling with pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and deviled eggs sprinkled with smoked paprika. It was like I’d stepped right back into the past.
"So," my mother said once everyone had helped themselves. "Probate's nearly settled, isn't it?"
I kept my eyes on my plate. "Getting there."
"And after that?"
"After that, I finish sorting through the house and figure out next steps."
"Next steps," my father repeated, his tone flat. "Are you planning on keeping the place? We can’t let it out of the family, but with you in Seattle, I’m sure Tanner wouldn’t mind moving out there."
I cut into my roast, buying myself a few seconds. "I haven't decided what I’m going to do with it yet."
Sadie smiled as she buttered a roll. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I've got right now."
My mother set down her fork, her expression softening in that way that always made me feel like I was ten years old again. "You know you don't have to rush back to Washington, sweetheart. You could stay. Take your time. The house is yours now. The land is yours."
“I have a life in Seattle.”
“Do you?” Tanner’s voice stayed quiet, but it landed hard.
My head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t stayed away because you love Seattle so much.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve stayed away because you’ve always hated it here.”
“Tanner,” my mother said, her voice low with warning.
I opened my mouth, ready to argue. The words never came. Because he wasn’t wrong, and we both knew it.
