Page 73 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

Donovan never took sides. Admirable and ultimately, irritating. “It’s a waste to hoard a home you visit once or twice a year. Nobody goes there.”

Byron smiled up at the waitress shuffling salt and sugar holders to make room for their plates. He shoved two fries into his mouth, yelping at them being hot. Celene almost smiled.Recovering with a hard blow of air, he replied, “That used to be true. Ever since, you’ve stayed twice for at least a week. Elise and Ajay want to visit it more. Don and Bri told me the girls are asking for a tree house.”

Perfect. She’d ruin everyone’s fun. “There’s not much to talk about anymore, right? You keep the house.”

“Don’t do that,” he grumbled, his groomed eyebrows tense. “A decision hasn’t been finalized. Mavis noted all the benefits of Lake Harrier Reserve. And its value skyrocketed even before your changes.”

“Dad.” Celene glared. As nicely as the restaurant prepared her salad, she’d lost her appetite. “This is confusion. Should Elise take over? Is that what you want?”

Byron coughed onto another fry. “You know that wouldn’t fall through.”

“So you agree with me about her.”

“I’m playing neutral here.”

“Of course.”

“I’m telling Mavis to ease up, but not back down. Elise will go by the house more to get a feel for how much work goes into it. You’re still in charge; I’ll remind her.”

Celene eyed the diner-style setup, watching the red retro counter for their waitress. She’d be bagging her meal to go. Gut feeling. “What makes you so sure I’ll go back anytime soon?”

“Well, your girlfriend, for one.” Byron cracked out a sly smile. “That’s a guarantee.”

She drummed her fingernails on the shiny tabletop, hot solely at the thought of meeting Skye again. “Elise must inform me before she drops by. Everyone should.”

“Yeah, Don told me they interrupted a moment last visit.”

“Do they tell you everything? Jesus.”

“We’reclose.”

That came out with some sass. Celene squinted over their meals, at her father in his sweat-dotted collared shirt and unflinching gaze back. Eyes as dark and stubborn as hers.

Excuse the fuck out of Celene for having her own life and faculties, for not running to Dada for anything like her siblings. They must have a field day talking about her.

“Understood,” she replied, directing their waiter to bring her a box.

Byron checked over his shoulder at her request being honored. “Leaving so soon? We have a lot more to discuss.”

“I orchestrated a roundtable and did two panels today.” She gestured at her pantsuit. Too dressy for a quick bite outside the pickleball courts. “If you want me to finish my list of changes, you’ll allow me this time to rest.”

He agreed behind his hand in a gruff noise.

Packed and pay-tapping to treat Byron, Celene stood. Childish as it was, she almost wished he’d ask her to stay.

Which was why she needed to go. Regressing like that wasn’t conducive to living as her full self. Her siblings and parents had each other. Celene functioned on the sidelines, and that’d been established decades ago.

Byron watched her leave, though. And when he merely lifted his grilled cheese to finish lunch without her, Celene knew she’d made the right decision.

Byron hadn’t been kidding.Come Saturday evening, Celene and Elise pulled into the Vale House driveway, one car after another. A little sister tagalong.

Except this sister had a chauffeur husband hauling their bags after Celene disengaged the alarm system. Ajay dragged Celene’sstuff in, too, while she prowled the outside premises. She nodded at the trimmed grass and pulled weeds, compliments of Donovan and Briana before they drove back to Jersey.

And—a massive win—the brand-new decks were sturdy yet remarkably refined. Gertrude’s team came through.

She could acknowledge one of Elise’s advantageous qualities: the woman bounced back from conflict quickly. Maybe they learned that in drama school. While Celene preferred a day or so wading courteously, getting a read of the waters and the temperatures between them, Elise belly flopped onto the couch, groaning for sustenance.

“You want delivery?” Elise asked, punctuating it with a sneeze into a tissue. The antihistamines she’d gobbled were no match for Yielding. “I could perish.”