And Rachel was here, at the Roadhouse, on her first official public date with Brandon and Trace.
The entire back of the restaurant was full to bursting, as family—Benedicts, Kendalls and Jessops alike—joined the party.
“Apparently, this section of the Roadhouse is called ‘Benedict Central,’” Trace said. He’d directed his comments to her and Brandon, but she’d been around Lusty long enough to get a sense of what was coming next. Trace’s voice had been just loud enough to carry to the nearest few tables.
“So I’ve heard,” Brandon said. “What do you think, Dad?” He directed his question to Robert Jessop, who was seated with Brandon’s mom, Jillian, directly across from them. His other dad, David, was just now on his way back from the hospital in Waco and was expected to arrive shortly.
Rachel recalled the conversation she’d had with Laci, when the other woman told her how much trouble she’d had getting pregnant. This was her second marriage. Her first, childless marriage of several years had ended when her first husband tried to murder her by setting fire to their home back in Abilene. Fortunately, that very night Laci had been unexpectedly called into work, a fact Fred Sinclair hadn’t known. Unfortunately, the man had been drunk during the commission of the crime of arson and had ended up killing himself in the blaze.
Laci had been over the moon to finally be expecting and, understandably, really worried that something might go wrong. But Laci had let her know that Dr. Jessop—David—had promised to see to it she got the very best care.
Rachel wasn’t the least bit surprised that David Jessop would extend his time at the hospital to ensure his patient was comfortable and completely settled.
Rachel focused on Brandon, who was waiting for a response from Robert. The laughter in both men’s eyes spoke volumes about their close relationship and hinted at what, at the moment, apparently was their common mission.
“What do I think about what, son?” Robert asked.
“Well, since you’re a doctor, I thought you’d be the one to ask. I don’t see a ‘Jessop Central’ or a ‘Kendall Central’ here. Just a ‘Benedict Central,’ and I’ve been told, it’s infamous. Do you think it’s time we provided our Benedict cousins with an intervention? You know, help them find their way to a solid twelve-step recovery program?”
Rachel couldn’t hold back her snicker, and she wasn’t alone. She met Jillian’s gaze. She clearly wanted to laugh, too, but was savvy enough to treat Rachel to an eye roll.
Robert had a keen sense of timing. He took another long, slow sip of his beer. “Son, I do believe your suggestion has merit.”
Adam Kendall nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a fine idea, Brandon. Speaking on behalf of the Kendall family, we’ll be there to help our poor, besotted Benedict cousins however we can.”
“You’re all just jealous because we’re celebrating yet another Benedict birth,” Rick Benedict said. He, Maggie, and Trevor had joined the celebration while Kevin was at home with seven-month-old Katie. “There’re so many more of us than there are of you, combined, and that number is just growing! I’d say the evidence is in, and it’s conclusive. Benedicts are clearly much better at procreation than our poor, E. D. suffering Kendall and Jessop cousins.”
“Well, scientifically speaking,” Marc Jessop said, “if one were to use the measurement of brain power as opposed to simple body mass, the closer truth would be that we all outnumber you. And handily, too.”
Rachel looked forward to cousin speak. It was often the comedic highlight of her day.
Fortunately, they were saved any further salvos by the arrival of two of the Roadhouse’s servers—Michaela Powell and Jenny Benedict—bearing trays of wings and fries and chips and salsa. Baskets were distributed, and the would-be comedians left aside the jokes and became serious foodies.
Rachel and the guys hadn’t bothered with supper. They’d all three decided instead to nosh here, spend some time with the family, and then head back to the guys’ place. Since Libby would be gone until Sunday afternoon, and Rachel had a late start in the morning, it seemed to make the most sense.
“I think someone is waving at you,” Trace said to Brandon.
“Rogers,” Brandon said. He nodded as four people approached. A couple of the guys pulled another table into their area, and a few more chairs and people moved and made room.
Robert got to his feet, shook hands with the men, then hugged the woman. Then he kept his arm on her shoulders and turned to address Rachel.
“Rachel, this is Brittany Kendall, and those two rough-looking characters are her husbands, Sean and Noah.” He pointed to two good-looking men who resembled Adam and Henry Kendall. “And this gentleman is, I believe, one of my son’s students.”
The third man in the group looked from Brandon to her and Trace. Then he nodded and smiled at her. “Sergeant Thomas Rogers, ma’am. United States Marine Corps.”
Rachel was pretty good at gauging moods and vibes. She didn’t think a person, man or woman, could make a successful career in the service industry without having those finely honed instincts.
“I’m pleased to meet you all. Lieutenant Kendall, your reputation is legendary.”
Brittany laughed. “Thanks mostly to the doc, here,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Hey, LT, I told you we might run into each other tonight.”
Brandon chuckled. “So you did. This is Trace Langley. He’s a lieutenant, as well, but with the fire department.”
The two men shook hands, and then Sergeant Rogers sat farther down with the Kendalls he’d arrived with.
“So where’s my baby sister tonight?” Brandon asked.
Jillian grinned. “Where else? She loves going to spend time with Nana and the Papas. Grant and Chloe were headed to the hospital to visit Laci, and Andrew was taking the twins over to the folks’ place, too.
