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Sloan walked home, and her mood rose just a little more as she caught some crocus peeking through the snow.
At home, she lit the fire, then made her good-mood brownies. While they baked, she picked up her crocheting and her first attempt at socks.
Once she’d set the brownies to cool, she checked the time. Just past ten seemed a perfectly civilized time to make calls on a Sunday.
She spoke with Carson’s widow, with Russell’s daughter.
She added to her notes, made more connections on her wall, and added pins to more locations.
When she’d satisfied herself she’d done all she could that day, she took a long, hot shower.
She dressed in jeans, and thinking of crocus, chose a purple sweater. Considering the idea of walking to her parents’—a little under a mile—she started to reach for boots.
The knock on the door had her leaving them to answer.
Nash stood on her stoop.
“I’ll drive you over,” he said. “Since I’m coming back anyway.”
“Oh, fine, thanks. I just need my shoes.”
When she went back to get them, he went over to the covered dish on her kitchen counter. The brownies did look awesome.
“Since your shower’s better than mine—currently—I’m going to shower and change for work here tomorrow morning.”
She came back out wearing gray sneakers.
“Okay.” From the closet she took a black vest and a scarf with gray and black stripes. “I need to get the brownies.”
“I’ll get them.” He picked them up, then stood for a moment looking at her. “We’re going to dinner at your parents’, and with your friends, so this isn’t the time for you to listen.”
“But?”
“But when it is, I know you will. That matters, too.”
“I will. I’m going to say this because we’re walking out the door. I’ve got a real soft spot going for you, Littlefield.”
“I’ve got one of my own going for you, Sergeant Cooper. Let’s go.”
It was a hell of a thing, Nash thought, to be surrounded and not feel squeezed. To find himself so casually and sincerely welcomed into a group that had its own history.
Theo, clearly, drank it all in like water.
No, not squeezed, he decided, but more absorbed.
Conversation primarily centered on wedding talk, and baby talk. And though neither were his areas, they managed to absorb him there, too.
They zeroed in on him during an amazing meal highlighted by honey-glazed ham.
“So, you’ve got a bachelor party to plan.” Elsie nudged another biscuit on him. “Any themes in mind?”
“I figured to go with the classics. Great quantities of alcohol, carefully selected porn, and a stripper.”
At Theo’s quick bark of laughter, Nash buttered the biscuit, and said, “No. Poker.”
“Yeah? Cool! Nash taught me how to play poker when I was about twelve. We’d smuggle in a jumbo bag of Skittles and play for them. Christmas Eve, I was like fifteen, we had a serious marathon going, and I went all in with trip aces. I mean, who wouldn’t?”
“Wiped you out,” Nash remembered with satisfaction. “Full house, deuces over treys.”