The rest of us stopped with a nearly audible screech, paused, and busted out laughing.
His face flattened. “What? I didn’t want to mess up my shirt.”
Kash bellowed, grabbing Jett around the neck. “You look so pretty, Julie.”
Jett rolled his eyes, elbowing Kash hard enough to make him oof. “Watch it, Kassie.”
“Come on, don’t let him get to you,” I soothed. “Not when you look so pretty in purple.”
“And you look great in black and blue,” he shot.
“Now, hush,” Mom said, shooing us toward our seats. “Your brother cooked dinner for you ungrateful Bennets. Shame on you for teasing him. He was the only one who offered, knowing I can’t cook anymore.” Her voice was high and lilting but tight around the edges with guilt.
We shared a look before mumbling our apologies.
“Smells good,” Laney said, pulling up her chair. “Enchilada casserole? Man, I’ve been craving this for years.”
“That’s more like it,” Mom noted, beaming at her children as we all sat, her discomfort gone—or at least packed away for the moment. “What did everyone do today?”
Laney reached for the spoon and divvied herself out some Spanish rice. “I worked on graphics for the store all day and almost have the website finished.”
“Oh, good. I can’t wait to see,” Mom said as she filled her plate. “Marcus?”
“Oh. Here’s the guacamole.”
“No, what did you do today?”
He frowned, setting the dish back down. “Considering I have a dozen banker boxes full of handwritten receipts to go through, we can assume I’ll be doing that until I die.”
She flushed, tittering. “I’ve never had a head for math.”
Marcus smiled in an uncharacteristic display of compassion, the kind he reserved for Mom. “It’s all right. Once I get it sorted, I think we might refile with the IRS for a few years back. I have a feeling there’s another twenty to thirty thousand in deductions that were missed.”
“Well, what a surprise!” Mom said. “We should take a cruise.”
Kash’s nose wrinkled. “Stuck on a boat with a bunch of strangers and buffets covered in E-coli? Pass.”
“And you, Lucas? What did you do today?”
“Tess,” Kash said, smiling innocently at Mom.
Her brow quirked in confusion, and Laney snickered.
“What he means is that Tess and I finished painting,” I answered, kicking Kash under the table.
His knee hit the tabletop hard enough to disturb the silverware.
“How exciting!” Mom was all smiles, completely unaffected. “I like to see you two getting along,” she said pointedly.
“Oh, they’re getting along all right,” Kash said, sniggering. “Luke just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut about it.”
I was ready to fling my fork at him like a ninja star, but Mom went on, unaware.
“Good,” she said. “That makes me unreasonably happy. Can I finally come see what you’ve done, or will you keep me out of there another day? You know I don’t do well waiting, Lucas.”
“Tomorrow,” I promised. “We’ve still got to put everything back where it goes. Plus, I’ve got a couple surprises for you.”
“I love surprises,” she said, her face all soft and dreamy. “And I’m glad you and Tess are working together. She is such a treasure.” Tears filled her eyes, happy tears. Proud tears. “She’s been my hands for so long, I almost don’t miss it. Almost.”
Every face at that table warmed.
Dad reached for her hand. “Tess would argue it’s you who’s the treasure.”
Mom smiled, sniffling. “Oh, she would, but it’d be a lie. But I appreciate a well-formed fib as much as I appreciate a good surprise.”
I picked up the Tess torch and ran with it. “She jumped right in to help, got her hands dirty, has loads of ideas. We’re working on a few things to show you, things I think you’re gonna flip your lid over.”
“I’m sure my lid will flip elegantly and stick the landing.” She let loose a happy sigh. “I will never get tired of seeing all my children at the dinner table again. Will you, Mr. Bennet?”
“Surely not, Mrs. Bennet,” he said with a smile only for her.
“And all to work in the shop. Here I thought only Kash had any interest. And just like that, all five of my children are home and pitching in. I must be the luckiest mother in the whole world.”
Marcus eyed her with suspicion. “Mom,” he started in warning.
“What?”
“How many blind dates have you set us up on?”
She glanced up at him, attempting at innocent. “Marcus Bennet, I can’t imagine what you might mean.”
“There was no nuance, Mother.”
The color rose in her cheeks. “Well, who could blame me for wanting to see my children in love and married? How else will I ever hold grandchildren? When will I weep at a wedding? Lucas ran off and married that girl, and I didn’t even get any pictures. Laney and Jett are thirty-one. Thirty-one! And I’m only getting older. Soon, I’ll be feeble and frail, and how will I hold babies then?” she rambled her consternation, face flushed and attention on dishing herself out casserole without thought until an insurmountable pile sat on her plate.
“Mom,” Laney warned. “Did you really?”
Kash smirked. “Hey, I’ll take a blind date. Last one she set me up on was with Charity Smith.”
He and I shared a knowing look. The only thing Charity was charitable with was in her pants.
“See?” Mom said, digging into her mound of casserole like it wasn’t outrageous in portion. “I’m being helpful. Thank you, Kassius. At least one of you is trying.”
“How many of us did you set up?” I asked, forearms on the table and brows together.
She shrugged, her face too benign. “Oh, I don’t know. All of you?”
The table erupted in noise, and Mom took a prim bite like she couldn’t hear us.
“Honestly, Mom,” Laney huffed, “it’s not like we can’t get our own dates.”
“I know you can,” she insisted, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “You have your apps and your matchmaking websites nowadays, but there’s something to be said for a good, old-fashioned setup, isn’t there? For instance, at garden club yesterday, Vera Archer said her daughter just moved back from San Francisco and needs some friends. Of course, I offered for Jett. Plus—”—she leaned in, smiling wickedly—“she’s filthy rich.”
Jett groaned.
Laney rolled her eyes. “Mother.”
“What?” she blustered. “I only want my children to be happy and healthy and find love. And if the person they fall in love with is rich, that couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?”
“Of course it couldn’t hurt,” Dad said, “beyond the bite of the hayfork you use to shovel them off to the marriage market.”
Mom swatted his arm. “Oh, I’m not shoveling … just giving them a little nudge. Isn’t that our job? Encourage them to fly out of the nest?”