Page 69 of Don't Say a Word

“Where’s Jack?” I asked the kid. Cody was on the short side for his age. He had dimples and he kept swiping his dark blond hair out of his eyes.

“He and Mom are on the patio. Sydney’s taking care of the horses. Want to help?”

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time I tried to help with the horses?”

Cody laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Nope, horses and I don’t mix.” Jack however was a natural, which was another reason I was so happy that he and Laura had hit it off. Fate or divine intervention, I didn’t know, but Jack deserved to be happy.

I went into the kitchen and helped myself to a beer—Jack had bought a six-pack of my favorite IPA, I noted. Heading out to the patio, I caught Jack and Laura mid-kiss.

“Want me to take over the grill so you two can have some alone time?” I asked with a grin.

Laura laughed lightly, and Jack frowned and gave methat lookonly a brother can give a sister. I wrinkled my nose at him and sipped my beer.

Laura said to Cody, “Tell Sydney dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. And help her with the horses like you promised, or I’ll dock your allowance.”

Cody ran off, the two Labs following. Bagel the beagle reclined on his outdoor dog bed.

“We never got an allowance,” I said as I squatted to give the old dog a scratch behind the ears.

“It’s a daily responsibility tending to the animals,” Laura said, “and they both make sacrifices to do their chores. By the way, the kittens are fully weaned, and I’m spaying and neutering them at the end of the month, then they’re ready to go to a good home.”

When Jack and I were working to protect Laura and her irresponsible ex-husband, a stray cat made a home in the barn and gave birth to six kittens. Cody had declared that the cat was now his.

“I thought you were keeping the whole litter,” I said.

“I told Cody he could keep two. It’s always good to have cats around. But I’d love to find homes for the others.”

“I’ve never had a cat,” I said. We had a dog most of my childhood. We put Barney to sleep when I was fifteen and it was one of the worst memories of my youth. My parents never got another dog. Barney had been part of the family. I’d thought about getting a dog, but not with my current erratic schedule.

“They’re great pets. There’s one kitten who wouldn’t do well being a barn cat—he’s the runt of the litter.”

“The gray one?” I asked, and wished I hadn’t. Laura would take the inquiry as a sign of interest.

She smiled and nodded. “Think about it. He could go home with you tonight. He’s still a little on the small side, so I might wait to neuter him. We like them to be at least two pounds. You can bring him back when he’s ready.”

“I don’t need a cat,” I said.

“You haven’t said no,” Jack pointed out with a sly smile.

“What about you? You taking one?”

“Nope. But I think Mom should have one. She had cats growing up—she’d like the company.”

Pops and Abuela still had cats—four of them. At one point they had seven.

“You give it to her,” I said. “You’re the favorite.”

Jack laughed. “I don’t know about that. I think Lu wins that contest.”

Jack was everyone’s favorite, but I didn’t harbor any ill will.

I sipped my beer and watched as my brother kept glancing over at Laura with a goofy half smile on his face, as if he couldn’t believe she was his girlfriend. I liked that. I liked that my brother was happy, that he had found love a second time around when he had been so devastated by the collapse of his marriage.

Thirty minutes later, we were eating amazing barbecue steaks, homemade potato salad, and grilled zucchini. In my thirty-three years, I’d never had grilled zucchini before.

It was after eight when Laura told the kids to finish their homework and we all cleared the plates. I watched as Laura and Jack did the dishes together—the whispers and smiles and genuine affection.