“I think I’m a little old for you to be keeping tabs on me, Mom.” He smiled at her.
“You’ll always be my boy, Brody. As long as you’re under this roof, I’ll be keeping tabs on you.” She shook her head. “I was thinking about India Boone and her boy, Cal.”
Brody stopped assembling cups with screw-on lids and straws and looked at his mother. He knew she’d followed India into the bathroom at the Soda Shop—he was glad she had. His mother was good at saying, or not saying, what needed to be said. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was getting at something. “What about them?”
“You should invite them to the girls’ birthday party,” she said. “The girls adore him. And, I think, she’s fond of you and the girls. And, maybe, you’re fond of her...them?”
He saw her quick look his way but didn’t quite know what to make of it.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think Dad would blow a gasket.” He went back to pouring milk and screwing on the lids.
His mother flipped a pancake and crossed her arms, looking at him. “Well, that’s nonsense.” She sighed. “Your father loves those girls and wants them happy. I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t have to, Mom. Even if Dad is okay with it, I don’t think her dad would be. The two of them bump heads enough without adding her partying on enemy territory.” He collected all three cups and carried them to the table, where the girls waited.
“You seem to know an awful lot about her,” his mother said, serving each girl a pancake.
Brody used the pizza cutter to cut each pancake into little bite-size pieces, hoping to avoid further conversation about what he did or didn’t know about India. And, if he didn’t watch himself, she’d figure out just why he was coming home so early this morning. And why he’d spent the few minutes he’d had before his daughters’ arrival hoping Tanner would recover—Cal needed him to.
“Brody?” His mother nudged him. “Amberleigh asked very nicely for syrup.”
Brody poured a dollop of syrup onto Amberleigh’s pancake. “Good job using your manners,” he said, smiling at her.
“Where’s your head this morning, boy?” his father said, joining them at the table.
Brody looked at his mother, surprised by the smile on her face. What was she up to?
“He’s got a lot weighing on him,” his mother said to his father, squeezing Vic’s shoulder. “Doesn’t look like he got much sleep last night, either.”
“No? Like what?” his father asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” he assured his father, his eyes on his plate. Yep, his mother was definitely up to something. “Plans today? I’ve got a quick meeting at the library at one. Can’t imagine it’ll take too long since I’m running unopposed. After that, I thought I’d take the girls out to Click’s place—see all the horses.” He took the plate of bacon his mother offered him.
“Don’t forget your old saddle for Cal,” she whispered. “It’s in the back of the barn, in an old burlap feed sack.”
“What?” his father barked.
“Just asking if he wanted sausage, too,” his mother spoke up.
“Well, maybe I want sausage.” His father frowned.
She laughed. “Of course you do.”
“Paw-paw’s yummies,” Suellen said, grinning at her granddad.
“That’s right.” His father patted her cheek. “I love sausage.”
“I thought it was off-limits?” Brody asked, shooting a look at his mother. The doctor had provided them with a list of things his father should not be eating. “I’m pretty sure bacon was on that list, too.”
His father frowned. “You can’t expect me to give up bacon and sausage. I’m a Texan, boy. I need meat at every meal. And when I say meat, I don’t mean grilled chicken.” He looked disgusted.
Brody bit back a laugh, shaking his head. His father would do what he pleased—he always had. Hell, between his father and the girls, this election and India, Brody had very little control in his life. He sat back in his chair and watched the interactions around the table. Nothing like having his family around him to remind him how lucky he was. His family might not agree on everything, but there was love here. The girls were chattering, eating up their breakfasts, all smiles and carefree. His father, grumbles aside, looked good. His color was less blotchy, and for the most part, his temper was in check. And his mother. Even if she was watching him with that small knowing smile on her face.
“What?” he asked.
Her brows rose. “What do you mean what?” She sipped her orange juice. “I was just thinking about the girls and their new friend. How they get on so well.”