Page 105 of By Invitation Only

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Peyton

“Hey, Daddy,” I greeted walking in through the front door of my parents’ house in the Valley. My father was sitting in his reclining chair reading a book, dressed in a maroon sweater with a grey collared shirt under it that matched his hair.

“Hey, baby girl.” He looked at his watch. “You’re early.”

I shrugged and sat on the couch next to the chair. “Can’t I come over and spend time with you before it gets crazy in here?”

He set his book down and looked over at me, removing his wire-rimmed glasses. “Of course. We just weren’t expecting you until this afternoon. Your mother could use the help cooking, though.”

“I figured,” I half lied.

That was, in fact, what I told Booker I was going to do. In reality, I didn’t need to be at my folks’ until four, but I wanted to get away from all the knowing looks I was receiving when I was at Booker’s. I wasn’t sure if I was getting bright smiles from everyone because I was Booker’s first serious girlfriend, or because they heard us having sex a few mornings before. I didn’t ask. And after tomorrow night, I would be spending forty-eight hours with his parents before they flew home, so I wanted to come to my parents’ early for a breather.

My mother came around the corner. Her short brown hair was half up, and flour covered her fingers. “Peyton. Oh, thank God you’re here.”

I looked up to meet the same eyes as mine. “Everything okay?”

“Aunt Jessi is running late, and I’m behind on the pies.”

I looked to my dad and gave him a small smile before I stood. “See. Something told me to come early.”

“Sneak me a slice when the apple is done.” He winked.

“She will do no such thing, Levi.”

“I’m only joking, Martina.”

Mother shook her head and rolled her dark brown eyes before walking back into the kitchen. Was this going to be me and Booker one day? He was at my place every night as though we lived together and I already cooked him dinner. Just call me SuzyHomemakerand shit.

“I’ll bring you a sliver of a sliver when it’s ready,” I whispered. “I need to talk to you about something before everyone gets here anyway.”

Tonight all of our family was coming: my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins. Tomorrow for Christmas would only be my parents and me until the afternoon when I went back to Booker’s, but I wanted to talk to my dad today before everyone showed up so I had time to process his answer.

“Something told me something was on your mind. Is it about a case?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Well, I’m here when you’re ready.”

I smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”

When I walked into the large kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. Every burner on the stove had either a pot or pan on it, both ovens were on in the double oven and flour covered every inch of the granite island. My mother knew how to cook. I’d learned from her, so I had no clue why the kitchen was a disaster.

“Did you forget how to cook?” I asked, looking around the room.

Mother tsked. “We have more people coming this year, and your aunt is running late as I’ve already told you.”

“Who else is coming?”

“My friend Evelyn and her family.”

“Okay,” I said, even though I’d never heard of this friend. “I’m sure everything will be fine. What do you need me to do?”

“I’m working on the crusts for the pies. Cut those apples into slices.” She pointed her flour covered finger at a basket full of green apples.

“All of them?” I asked, my eyes wide. There were about twenty apples in the basket.