Life was pretty damn strange.
He headed down the stairs to the main living space. The kitchen held the Bickersons, otherwise known as his brother and Zoe. They were forever sniping at each other.
“Have you ever made guacamole?”
“No.”
“Then get away from the blender, pal.”
“I’m a master.”
Zoe hip checked him out of the way. “Maybe if it was a margarita. She said to use this.” She handed him a large masher thing that was slightly horrifying.
“What is that?” Ian took it and turned it upside down
.
She turned it around again so the handle was in the palm of his hand. “Potato masher.”
“For avocados?”
She sighed and plucked it out of his hand. “Never mind. Just go wash the tomatoes.”
“I can help.” Ian peered over her shoulder to watch, but it was mostly so he could cop a feel.
Simon rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. He knew that trick and used it often. “How’s it going in here?”
Zoe smiled and elbowed Ian back. “We’ve only had to call Harper twice to ask questions.”
“But we had someone bring food in.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Wait, how did you know to call her?”
Zoe pointed to the chalkboard covered in large letters:
We don’t know the answer, call Harper.
Love, Margo & Lila
Well, at least they wouldn’t burn the place down. “Carry on.”
Simon hoped shitty guacamole was the least of their problems. On his way through the living room, he caught Lila and Nick laughing about something. From the blush staining Li’s cheeks, it was probably something rude.
Shocker.
It was good to see everyone laughing again. There definitely hadn’t been much to smile about earlier this year. The nightmares had faded for the most part. His, surprisingly, hadn’t lasted long about the actual kidnapping. Jerry had gotten exactly what he deserved.
Unfortunately, so had his mother.
No, he was mostly a basketcase about Margo and the baby getting through the pregnancy now. He’d thought—hoped—the trip to the island would chill them both out.
He’d even brought their midwife, Nora, with them.
Obsess much?
Nah.
On his way to the back door, he spotted Margo’s wide sun hat on the hook. He grabbed it and closed the door behind him.
She was standing on the edge of the garden, her white and navy sundress billowing around her long legs as she looked out at the ocean. There was a path down to the beach from the back of their property.