Phin slapped my chest with his open hand. "Oh no. I know that tone!"
"I told him he had five minutes. He earned this ass-kicking, baby," I said to his shocked expression. "You should have heard the mean things he said to me!"
Phineas shook his head and looked at the clock. "It's been three minutes," he called out to my backside.
I opened the patio door and peered out. "I know."
***
"I see headlights!" Phineas jumped and turned. He would have bounced off me to the floor if I hadn't caught him.
I rubbed his arms, from wrist to shoulders. I'd watched the doubt form between his eyes after we'd informed Branson and Aver who would be coming by for dinner. Aver had fussed about his parents wanting an invitation next, while Branson lectured all of us on the merits of planning these things as a group.
"I don't want to say I think it was a bad idea, only that it would've been better if we'd all had a chance to discuss it," he'd said, clearly trying to sound like the shifter version of a lovable sitcom dad.
While no one had said anything directly against Phin, that worry line had only grown. But I couldn't say much to console him. I didn't want my mother coming here, and I didn't think it was a good idea, if only because the arson attacks had stopped right about the time we'd distanced ourselves once more from the pack. Now, it felt like we were slipping right back, sinking deeper and deeper.
"I love you," Phin said, and while I loved hearing those words from him, I didn't like the hint of duress.
"Phineas, we will all survive this night. Even if she burst in, tries to make Bran Jr. a blood sacrifice, and dances on the table as an offering to Satan. Maybe we'll tease you if she does go full Exorcist, but I will always love you." I jerked my head back toward the other room. "The others don't get to love you like I do."
"I love you!" Wyatt shouted from the kitchen.
I growled and charged in his direction. Phin pulled me to a stop. "You've already pummeled him enough."
My mate was being kind. In the end, after I'd caught Wyatt trying to hide in a tree like a coward, we'd both emerged with as many marks. So much senseless destruction. Phin kissed the bruise on my cheek, and by then, the truck outside had parked. Phineas tugged to turn around, and I grabbed his head, keeping his face on me. "No peeking. Use your senses. Who just pulled up outside?"
He'd been frowning, but at my question, his face changed, getting that hungry look he did when he was learning something. He squinted, and I wanted to laugh and ask how that helped him hear better, but he opened his mouth. "Nana. That's Nana's truck. Did she bring your mom?"
Your mom. Just like that the humor was gone.
It would've left anyway since Nana opened the door seconds later. She wasn't one to knock. "Mmm, smells good."
"Riley and Phineas cooked," Branson said with Riley hooked to his side and Bran in his arms.
"Riley cooked," Phin corrected.
"It smells fine either way," Nana said. She stuck out her arm, guiding my mother inside.
I tried to remember if she'd ever even seen my house. Maybe from the other side of the bay.
She stepped forward. "Thank you, Phineas, and… everyone." Her hands were folded tightly at her front. She had always been thin to the point that from an early age I'd pulled back when it came to hugging her. I'd gotten strong quick, and I couldn't remember an unrestrained hug with her.
"I have everything set up in the dining room," Riley said. This was part of the plan Riley and Phin had concocted when they thought we weren't listening.
First: Suggest that we begin dinner immediately.
Second was to keep conversation to baby talk or the weather.
Too bad for them—my mother had a different idea. We circled the table, Nana sitting at one end and Riley taking the other. The rest of us sat scattered, though the seat next to my mother would remain empty.
She wasn't sitting in her seat anyway. She stood, wringing her fingers in front of her. "I thought, before we started, I'd just get the worst part out of the way. Any of you may ask me questions about why I'm here, maybe what you think my inten—" She took a shaky breath. "What my intentions are. I'm an open book. You need only ask."
"I have a question," Aver said, each letter perfectly formed. "Who did you tell that you were coming here?"
My mother shook her head. "No one. I stayed at Nana's after the party, and she drove me over here." She smiled and then quickly covered her mouth. "No one has any idea where I am."
That idea seemed to delight her more than it should delight a woman who spent her days telling people what to do.
More than one person looked at me as if expecting me to ask the next question. I was here for Phin. The only question in my mind was how could you? And I didn't think that sort of thing could be answered in a quick Q&A.
Wyatt cleared his throat and stood. "I have a question." His hands were clenched at his sides, and I tensed. "Why did you want to come here?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't a friendly question, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
My mother chewed on her upper lip and then the lower. Watching her now brought up a faint memory, one where she'd done that same thing, but it had made someone mad. My dad?
Stop chewing on your lips, Julie. You're not a squirrel.
That had been what my dad had said. I shook my head trying to clear the disturbing memory. People had done studies about memories and how easily they were fabricated. Had I made that up just now? Or had her presence dislodged something?
"Easy answer?" Julie replied. "I came because Phineas asked me to. We were talking at his party about you boys and what handfuls you were as children." Her smile, though still small, grew warm. Our eyes met briefly before she looked sharply away. "It doesn't look like you two have changed. Aloe vera gel should help with those bruises. John used to hate you boys leaving the house all marked up."
I grunted, not liking how quickly I'd gone from utterly despising the woman and humoring my mate to rethinking every moment of my childhood. My father had ruled our home with an iron fist. And in the years that had passed, my mother and father had sort of melded into one beast in my mind. But what if they weren't one beast?
"I'd say that's enough questions before dinner," Nana said in the silence that had followed.
Riley hopped up, all too thrilled to continue with their plan. "Mrs. Walker—or should I call you elder?"
"Mrs. Walker is fine, or… even Julie, if you like."
Damn why did she have to sound so hopeful that Riley would call her Julie?
"Julie." Riley nodded with a smile. "You were telling Phineas about the boys when they were babies. Any other tips for what he might be able to expect?"
Second: Keep conversation to baby talk or the weather.
Phin shot Riley a look of thanks.
"Before you answer, Julie, we've got barbecue chicken, roasted green beans, and cornbread. Not from scratch, Nana. Don't hate me." Riley said the last part like he was relaying his last message and quickly running out of oxygen.
Nana reached forward and grabbed a chicken leg with her bare hand from the platter, tearing into the flesh with her teeth. "Why would I hate you after inviting me over and cooking for me?" She took another bite, and the rest of us followed suit, dishing up, though we used the tongs Riley had set out.