“How’s the garden coming?” he asked.
She heaved out a big breath but didn’t push it. That was one of the things he’d always loved about his mother. She might nag him, but she knew not to push things too far.
“The garden is coming along well enough,” Francie said. “Another couple of weeks of hard work, and it’ll all be in. Alex has finals this week, so he’s not able to help much, but I’ll be okay.”
One of the things Rafe liked about his college professor stepfather was how much he loved working on this house with Francie. Before Rafe had gone to college, he and she had always done the garden together. Now that he was back in Boone, REKD consumed most of his time. Once the launch was completed, he could spend more time helping. He wondered if Ahri had ever gardened. There he went again, thinking of her.
“We have company staying at the complex,” he said.
“Anyone I know?”
They stepped inside, and Rafe closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar and delicious smell of one of his mother’s savory casseroles. The scent had a bit of tang to it, so he guessed she’d added jalapeños. He opened his eyes and found his mother watching him expectantly.
“What can I say?” He gave her his best cheeky grin. “I love your cooking.”
Francie shook her head, but her cheeks had flushed at the compliment. He didn’t think she’d ever get used to people complimenting her. That was what came from so many years living with his father, who couldn’t see the good in anything. Or anyone. At least Alex had helped her to believe that what people said about her cooking was true.
They entered the kitchen. The large room’s modern look still gave him pause. When his mother and stepfather had married, Alex had sold his condo and used the money to make improvements on the house. They’d done a lot to the kitchen. The only thing left from his childhood was the large, worn wooden table that served as Francie’s work station and where the family ate when they didn’t have company.
“Do you have guests tonight?” Rafe asked.
“They’re eating out. It’s just us.” Francie nodded to a stack ofplates and went back to mixing the salad. “Well, are you going to tell me who’s staying with you or leave me hanging?”
“Sorry.” He picked up the plates. “It’s Kayn’s sister.”
“Ah. The Korean beauty with the unexpected green eyes.” Francie opened the oven and removed a large casserole dish, the spicy smell making his mouth water. “Is she on vacation?” She shot him a sidelong glance. “Is her husband with her this time?”
Rafe debated internally how much he should share. He didn’t want to intrude on Ahri’s privacy, but if he was going to suggest she stay here, his mother needed to know part of the story.
“Her husband left her, and in a bad situation. We don’t know what he was involved with, but her life’s a mess right now.”
“That poor thing.” His mother paused in tossing the salad, thoughtful. “And y’all are so busy right now. If there’s anything I can do for her, let me know. I’d tell her myself, but then she’d think I was putting my nose in her business.”
Her kind heart was another thing he loved about his mother.
“There might be something you could do.”
She watched him, waiting.
“As you said, Kayn’s really busy right now. He’ll do his best by her, but you know how distracted he gets when he’s in the middle of a project.”
“She needs her mother.” Francie carried the salad to the table. “Isn’t she still alive?”
“Kayn said she moved back to Korea.” Rafe went to the silverware drawer. “She wanted the kids to be American and rarely spoke Korean at home. Kayn’s mentioned how uncomfortable it is to look Korean but not speak much of the language. Ahri wouldn’t like going to be with her mother.”
“You seem to know a lot about her,” his mother said with a sly glance.
“I don’t know about that. We’ve chatted a lot when she’s visited Kayn, and he’s talked about her. Sometimes it seems like I know her better than I really do.” Rafe paused, thinking aboutwhat he’d just said. “That sounds a little presumptuous of me, doesn’t it?”
“No.” Francie patted his cheek. “It’s because you have a good heart and connect with people. I think that’s why you’re so good with the stories you tell about your game world. You’re creative, meaning you can empathize. I heard somewhere that people who read fiction are better at sympathizing with people than those who don’t.”
“I didn’t know you read the champion lore.”
“I started when I found out you were the one writing it.”
“And you like it?” He couldn’t keep the doubt from his voice.
“Of course I like it.”
