Unable to stop a huge smile from forming, I felt my eyes crease. “We go way back, and we’re definitely having fun.” Fun like I’ve never had. “It’s fun now, but it’s not a long-term thing.”
She gave me a speculative look. “Are you sure that’s how Ben sees it? I’ve never heard about him being this gaga for someone. He may not live in Colebury, but he spends enough time here.”
“I’m sure,” I said with a certainty I wasn’t sure I believed but forced myself to get behind.
Then we were saved by the chimes above the door when a customer arrived, a book tucked under their arm.
Zara nodded toward the book. “I’m liking the book club idea more and more.”
With no further discussion of Ben, we went back to selling and making coffees.
22
Ben
“Hi, Mom,” I said, picking up the phone as I was leaving the medical center. There was no use ignoring her call. She knew I saw patients on Wednesday afternoons and would be getting out around now—in time for dinner.
“Ben, I’m so glad to get you on the phone. Dad is grilling steaks, and we wanted to see if you wanted to come eat.”
Sliding into my car, I said, “Sure, that would be great. I wanted to tell you guys some news anyway.”
“About Murphy?”
I stifled a sigh. Of course Marley had already spilled the news about seeing us together at the farmers’ market. “Not exactly.”
“But I heard you were out with Murphy last night. Is it the same Murphy?”
Pulling out of the parking lot, I said, “Mom, I’ll see you in a few, and then you can ask me anything you want.”
After I parked my Jeep in front of the house I grew up in, I took a long inhale and even longer exhale. “Hey,” I hollered in the hallway.
“Out here,” my dad yelled through the screened back door.
“I’m starving,” I said as I stepped out onto the back deck, where he was grilling a sizable number of steaks.
“Good thing,” Dad said with a grin. “Hunnie’s parents dropped off these steaks. They got them from a friend of theirs over in New Hampshire. They’re excited I’m agreeing to this petting zoo venture and goat yoga, to say the least.”
Shrugging, I said, “If it sells syrup, who cares?”
“There you are.” My mom came bursting out the back door, her black hair threaded with gray swinging with the movement. Everyone said I resembled my mom, but I have my dad’s height.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, pulling her in for a hug.
“Want a beer?”
I shook my head. “Can’t. I have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Sit,” she said.
Knowing Mom wouldn’t let me help unless I had a reason, I said, “Let me wash my hands, and then I can help you bring stuff outside. I assume we’re eating out here.”
Back inside, I used the kitchen sink to scrub my hands and noticed a big bowl filled with my favorite pasta salad.
“I made your favorite,” my mom said, walking to the fridge.
“I see. Buttering me up?”
Mom chuckled. “Never.”
I grabbed the bowl of pasta in one hand and a stack of napkins in the other, and then headed back outside.
“Myra, I need a plate. These are done,” my dad called out, and Mom came running with a platter. Together, they were a well-oiled machine.
“Sit,” Mom said again, and when I obeyed, she went back into the kitchen and returned with corn on the cob and fresh green beans.
“Am I that predictable?” I asked. “You knew I wouldn’t turn down a steak?”
“Don’t be silly,” my mom said, laughing as she sat down.
Once we’d all sat down and filled our plates, I said, “I bought some land and a house over by Mad River, close to skiing and biking paths. It’s private and quiet.”
Dad nodded approvingly. “Good for you, son. You deserve it.”
After chewing a bite of steak, perfectly medium rare, just like I like it, I said, “Well, it’s more for Branson. We can spend time there together. It’ll be good for him.”
Dad nodded and let it go, but he gave Mom a warning look as she squirmed in her seat. Obviously, she was waiting to pounce.
“This is good,” I said, ending the uncomfortable silence that followed.
Dad reached for his glass to take a sip. “Yeah, I think Hunnie wants her folks to start carrying these steaks locally for sale. She’s expanding their business in every direction. That girl has big plans.”
“She does,” I said, not knowing where this was going, but remembering Murphy asking me if Hunnie and I had ever had a thing. “I wonder why she didn’t try to partner with Scott. You know, Brenna’s friend from high school.”
“Eh,” my mom said, “he can be a jerk. He dropped Brenna.”
“Darling,” Dad said gently. “She was pregnant with someone else’s baby. There’s only so much rejection a man can take.”
He turned to face me, and I noticed how gray he was going at the temples. “Speaking of Hunnie, sometimes I think she wants to not only combine ventures, but lives, if you get my drift.”
“I do, and that’s not going to happen.” Before I could say any more, I stuffed my mouth full of pasta.
Mom pointed her fork at him. “Didn’t you hear me say his Murphy is back, Bill?”
“Myra, you gotta get those silly fantasies outta your head. Ben is a big boy, all grown up. He’s not having an affair with some girl from high school, a city girl yet. He may have gone off to that fancy school, but he’s back home now.”
“Actually, she lives in Vermont now and likes it,” I said carefully. “She’s doing some work for Hunnie too.”
“Really?” My mom’s eyes narrowed as she went in for the kill. She was a barracuda with only a tiny morsel of information.
“On social media. I would think she’ll be helping with the animals too.”
Mom put down her silverware, taking in every word I
