Brooke hesitated. “Just…don’t be too quick to judge.”
Gabby let that sink in for a minute. Too quick to judge she could work with—unless, of course, the evidence was glaring.
Doug pulled up to a stop behind his brother’s SUV, taking in the old, wood-sided house that he’d called home every one of his thirty-three years. Columbus had never been home, and he’d just been unable to realize that at the time. Too blinded by love.
Too fooled, really.
It wasn’t a large home; if anything, it was one of the smallest in Blue Harbor, but his mother took pride in it and always had: flowers bloomed in the window boxes, the yard was a vibrant green, and the interior always felt like it was waiting for company to stop over at any moment. Doug carried the flowers carefully, a little surprised that they hadn’t yet wilted, and let himself in the front door, where his father met him in the hall. “Ah, thanks for doing that for me, son. One of the perks of having you back, eh?”
Doug sniffed the air, and his stomach grumbled from the aroma. “One of many,” he said, thinking of the endless supply of frozen pizza, take-out, and restaurant fare he’d lived on for most of his adult life. His ex, Lisa, had never been much of a cook, and neither was he. His father, on the other hand…
“Let me guess?” He hesitated, trying to discern the scent, until he settled on the obvious. “Paella?”
“Your mother’s favorite,” his father said with a smile of contentment.
Doug followed his father down the hall to the dining room, where his mother was already seated at the head of the table, Doug’s brother Justin to her left, in his childhood chair.
Carol’s face broke out into a smile as she stood to collect the arrangement. “Oh, Doug! You spoil me so!”
“Something beautiful for my beautiful birthday girl,” Doug’s father replied, looking downright proud as his wife set the vase in the center of the table.
Doug and Justin exchanged a glance. Growing up, they’d been embarrassed by their parents’ affection. Thought it was downright corny. Now, Doug had to admit it was sort of sweet.
But there was another feeling there too, one that hadn’t been there before, one that didn’t even really make sense. If he didn’t know better, he might call it jealousy.
“Happy birthday, Mom,” he said, shaking away those thoughts and leaning down to kiss his mother on the cheek. He handed over the small gift he’d purchased that morning. “And here’s my gift. It’s a gift card to the salon,” he explained as she opened the envelope. “I thought you could treat yourself one of these afternoons.”
“Oh. How…thoughtful.” His mother’s eyes crinkled into a smile, but it wasn’t as big as the one she’d given him when she’d thought he’d been responsible for the flowers. He had half a mind to show her the size of the voucher—enough for a full day of pampering and spa treatments, but his mother patted his hand and said, “Would you mind helping your father with dinner? Every time I stand up, he orders me back into my chair.” She laughed, and he nodded.
“Sure thing, Mom.” He noticed the card from his father propped on the buffet table next to what was clearly a homemade cake. While an expert on the range, baking was one of Howard’s newer endeavors, and his decorating skills had a long way to go.
“Hey, Dad,” he said, coming into the kitchen where the counters were piled high with empty boxes and cutting boards, cutlery, and evidence of a lot of work. “I could have picked up a cake at the grocery store for you, too, you know.”
“A cake from the grocery store?” His father nearly laughed.
“Or the bakery…” Doug had noticed a new one in town since his last visit. Buttercream Bakery, owned by one of the Conway girls, apparently.
Conway. His mind drifted to Gabby Conway. Always the prettiest of that family, if anyone were to ask him, not that it was really debatable. Gabby Conway had the most beautiful smile, the shiniest hair, the brightest eyes, and the most difficult personality of all her sisters and cousins combined. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t back down, and he’d seen that firsthand on those disastrous prom planning committees he’d signed up for as a way to stay involved in school activities. Don’t bother asking her for a date, so the locker room talk would go. Gabby was very pretty, and like many pretty girls, she knew it. And most guys weren’t looking to set themselves up for rejection.
Doug sure wasn’t. Ever again.
“I know my cake might not be a looker, but it’s your mother’s birthday,” Howard continued. “It’s my day to spoil her. And as the saying goes, it’s the thought that counts.”
That was a common phrase in their house, especially during the years where his father’s business took a hit. Before he retired, Doug’s father owned a boating and water sports rental company, which heavily depended on tourists, as did most businesses in Blue Harbor. When the rains were heavy, or the weather too cool, Howard felt the sting. There were many homemade gifts those years, Doug remembered. It was one of the reasons he’d always promised himself to see that those holidays didn’t happen again. That his parents would be secure. That they wouldn’t need to worry about their business, or him. He’d helped out free of charge once he was old enough, maintained strong enough grades to get a full ride to college and then law school.
He’d never given his parents cause for worry. Until now, it would seem.
Looking around the mess of the kitchen, Doug understood why his father kept ordering his mother back into her chair every time she stood up. She’d be trapped in that seat until midnight if Doug or Justin didn’t roll up
