Instead of winding them up about what they’d done or asking for more, he chuckled and said, “I’m sure my folks have similar stuff on the three of us.”
My brothers all looked at him with what looked like respect, whereas the women looked disappointed. Well, until they realized it meant having new embarrassing things to look at, watch, and hear about.
He might have grown up with my family, but once they’d become adults and taken on various forms of responsibility, the relationships between them had changed. That’d happened even more when they’d caught us kissing when my sisters-in-law were giving birth and when they’d likely realized we were more than just friends. While I was away, they never mentioned his name or seeing him once the whole time, either. And then there was finding out I’d been married to him the entire time…
Yeah, stuff like that changed how comfortable they’d been around each other, and the ease and casualness of conversations, so them looking at him like they were gave me hope. Just because we hadn’t spoken about ‘us’ yet and I didn’t know where we were headed, didn’t mean I wanted him to have enemies in my family.
What broke me out of my musings was Dad sitting down and asking Cole, “Hey, what was it like dealing with the police two days in a row, son?”
I couldn’t believe he’d bought the Mitchell house. That was my dream home and the one I spoke to him about our future life together in. There was only one reason he’d bought that place—for me.
I got up to take our dirty bowls to the kitchen and was just putting them in the dishwasher when Gramps appeared beside me.
“You know what they say about fairytales coming true, Lala. It looks like it’s happened for you, and that boy’s determined to check them off a list. That house was always your dream home, and once it’s been cleaned and all the sex orgies are wiped away—”
“Wait, sex orgies? The Mitchells were in their late seventies before I left.”
Gramps looked slightly gray. “Try in their mid-eighties.”
Well, shit.
“Didn’t hold them back none, though,” Tom muttered as he put some dishes in the dishwasher. “Mark wasn’t wrong when he said the room lit up like the forest in Avatar at night.”
Gramps frowned. “I don’t remember what that looked like. Was it like when you put those glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling?”
Tom pulled his phone out and hit his photos. The first one he showed us was the forest from the movie at night. It was beautiful and actually a place I’d like to s—
All thoughts of visiting it screeched to a halt when he showed us the following picture.
“Is that paint?”
Tom shook his head. “Nope, we originally thought it was the Luminol doing its job. It shows you where bodily fluids have been, but the uhh sex juices reacted to the black light we were using as well.”
“Please tell me that’s not inside the house,” I whispered.
“Oh, it’s definitely in the house.”
Gramps looked more closely at it. “I wouldn’t say it’s as bright as the picture from the movie. You can see it glowing, but it doesn’t glow-glow.”
“Gramps, picture walking into your own home or standing in a room and seeing it as covered as that. Do you think it makes a blind bit of difference that it’s not as bright as the movie when you know what it is?”
“Probably not.”
“Fortunately, we can probably count out blood because that’s what Luminol reacts to, and these stains can be seen with the black light alone.”
When we both looked up at him, he pointed at his phone again. “We got through some updates tonight, and that means they haven’t found proof someone was murdered in there. Yet,” he added sheepishly.
“Now that you explain it, I’m not sure if it matters what part of the body the stains come from. Just the thought of it makes me need to soak in holy water.”
“That’s unlikely to happen after the state Cole left the new minister in,” Grams announced from the doorway. “You can always bless a bath yourself and hope you don’t burst into flames, though.”
It seemed there was always a hiccup in the road for Mark and me—and I used the word ‘hiccup’ sarcastically. The reason we’d gotten married, the way I’d left, the house.
What else could happen?
“Oh, Mark’s staying at yours until the house has been cleared and cleaned,” Mom said as I walked back into the dining room.
For once, I didn’t even feel the urge to protest or argue. Instead, my brain went from slightly paralyzed to overworked as I tried to figure out what I wanted to talk to him about first and how I would even broach the subjects with him.