I arrive at the main house right at dinnertime. My parents’ cook and housekeeper, Darla, is in the kitchen stir-frying vegetables.
“Fajitas!”
Darla turns and smiles. “Your favorite. What else would I be making for your big homecoming?”
Darla’s been with my parents since my senior year in high school, so she remembers what a huge appetite I have. She introduced me to her famous fajitas, and I swear, no Mexican restaurant in Colorado does them better. Ironically, Darla’s Irish.
I inhale the fragrance of sizzling onions and peppers mingled with mouthwatering Steel beef.
“Dinner is almost ready. Your brother and Ashley are out on the deck with your parents.”
“Thanks, Darla.”
“Can I get you a drink?” she asks.
“Nope. I’ll fend for myself.”
“There’s a pitcher of margaritas outside that your mother made.”
“Sounds good.” A margarita with Darla’s fajitas is kind of a tradition.
Plus, I like sweet cocktails. There, I said it. Dale gives me three shades of shit about it because I’m not a wine snob like he is.
I open the French doors and walk onto the deck. Mom and Dad’s two chocolate labs, Ginger and Fred, run toward me, nearly knocking me off my feet. Dale’s rescue dog, Penny—an adorable heeler mix with black-and-white markings—adds her two cents.
“So the prodigal son returns!” Dad stands and gives me a hug.
“I was just home a week ago,” I remind him.
“But now you’re home to stay,” he says. “It’s great what you’re doing for your mother.”
“You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.” Mom stands and hugs me close, bussing my cheek.
“Anything for you, Mom.”
Ashley, Dale’s wife, hugs me then. “It’s great that you’re coming home. I’m finally used to all the hugging!”
“How’s your mom doing?” I ask.
“She’s okay. She’s moving here as soon as our house is finished. We’ve got a room for her. A mother-in-law room. But I imagine she’ll find a place in town once she gets situated with a salon.”
Dale grabs me in his manly bear hug. “Good to have you back, bro.”
I simply nod. Dale’s not thrilled with my career decision, but he’s definitely happy to have me here on the ranch. As much as I loved my life in Denver, I missed Dale terribly. After all we’ve been through, we like to be near each other.
“What time are we meeting Brendan?” I ask him quietly.
“Nine,” he says. “I’ve already told Ashley, but you’ll have to figure out an excuse with Mom and Dad.”
I nod, and we disengage.
“I swear,” I say, “I could smell those fajitas a mile out.”
As if on cue, Darla walks out the door carrying a sizzling platter. On the table are tortillas, pico de gallo, guacamole, cheese, and sour cream. All the fixings.
I pour myself a margarita. Dale and Ashley are drinking wine, of course, and Dad has his signature Peach Street bourbon. Only Mom and I are indulging in the cocktail.
I hold up my glass. “It’s great to be home.”
“It’s great to have you here,” Dad says, clinking his bourbon to my margarita glass.
Mom, Dale, and Ashley join in the toast, and then we dig in. I pile my plate high and take a seat between Mom and Dad, who are on the ends of the glass-topped patio table. Ashley and Dale sit across from me.
Conversation never lulls, as we talk about everything from the fire, Ashley’s newly widowed mother, and Dale’s fermenting old-vine Syrah, the progress of which he’s extremely happy with.
My brother is more animated than I’ve seen him in…well, ever, to be honest. He just lost half his Syrah vines—his favorite and his place of solace—but his attitude shows strength and contentment. Marriage is clearly good for him. I’m excited to have a heart-to-heart with him soon, though apparently it won’t happen tonight.
Tonight is for Brendan Murphy, a high school classmate of Dale’s who lives in town and runs Murphy’s Bar. He and Dale were never close—Dale was never close to anyone except Dad and me, and now Ashley—but apparently Brendan has information for us. I’m intrigued, though I’d rather head over to the Pikes’ and say hi to Callie.
“Did you know that, Donny?”
I jerk toward Mom’s voice. “I’m sorry. Did I know what?”
“Callie Pike won’t be going to law school in January after all. Maureen told me they need the money to help rebuild.”
“Callie was going to law school?” I raise my eyebrows.
“You didn’t know? You seemed to spend a lot of time with her at the reception.”
I’m not about to tell my mother that Callie Pike and I weren’t talking about law school or the law or even the reception. We were speaking in innuendos, and I was hoping to get her between the sheets.
“I figured that was what you must have been talking about,” Mom goes on. “You two have that in common.”
“We were talking about other stuff,” I say. “The fire. You know.”
“Strange that law school didn’t come up,” Mom says.
I nod. Not so strange at all, but I’m so not going there. Not with my mother.
Dale smirks behind his wineglass, and Ashley gives him a good-natured punch on the upper arm.
My brother gives me all kinds of crap for my ways with women. So I like women. I like sex. What’s the problem? If a woman gives me her consent, why shouldn’t I take her to bed?
Dale and I have always had our own distinct ways of dealing with things. He goes inward, and I go outward. Just the way we’re each wired.
“I didn’t know Callie was interested in the law,” I say. “She must be upset that her plans have gone awry.”
Dale guffaws. “Who the hell uses the word awry?”
“High-powered corporate lawyers, apparently,” Ashley says, smiling.
“She is,” Mom says, ignoring Dale and Ashley. “Maureen feels terrible about it. I almost told her we’d gladly pay for Callie’s law school, but I figured that was out of line.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Dale says. “That would be out of line. No one wants to feel like a charity case. Especially not the Pikes. They’re proud people.”
“They are,” Mom agrees, “but we have so much to give.”
“We have to let them be who they are, blue eyes,” Dad says, looking at Mom with the love I’ve known since I came to this house twenty-five years ago.
“I know, Tal,” Mom says. “I never forget my humble beginnings. Dad and I never took charity, and there were times when it would have helped.”
“The Steel Foundation is helping them with loans and grants,” Dad says. “They’ll be all right. We can’t force them to take our help, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. They’re entitled to their pride.”
“Of course.” Mom polishes off her second margarita. “I know. I just…”
“You want to help,” Dad says. “You’re just being you, blue eyes, and that’s why we all love you.”
Dale looks at his plate. He loves Mom, but he doesn’t get her. To him, even thinking about offering the Pikes charity is an affront to his senses. I agree, but I also understand where Mom comes from.
It’s a balance—a balance Dale and Mom don’t have. They’re both constantly walking a tightrope around each other. If one or the other of them could just ease up slightly, everything would be okay.
He has Ashley now, and he’s opened up more than I ever thought possible.
I’m happy for my brother. He deserves the best. He was my protector all those years ago. I was so young and innocent. Without my big brother and his quiet strength, I have no doubt I’d have died in that horrific place.
Mom helps Darla clear the table, and then she brings out a chocolate cake, my favorite.
“This is a treat,” I say.
“Nothing but the best for your homecoming.” Mom smiles as she slices a huge hunk of cake and sets it in front of me.
Dale rolls his eyes. I don’t even look at him, but I know he’s doing it. I can feel it.
Mom serves cake to everyone else as I shove a succulent bite into my mouth. Moist and dense and perfect. Mom learned how to make cake from Aunt Marj, who’s a chef. Somehow my mother, whose only culinary claim to fame is her grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches, perfected this amazing dessert. I told her once that it was my favorite, and that was all it took.
She gets me and I get her.
Call me a mama’s boy. I can take it. It’s the truth.
Dale gives me shit about it at every opportunity, but I’m used to it. I think deep down he wishes he and Mom were closer. He just doesn’t know how to get close to her. He’s three years older and has more memories of our natural mother than I do. That’s probably a big part of the issue.
After cake and coffee, Dale rises. “We should go, Don.”
“Go where?” Mom asks.
“We’re meeting Brendan Murphy for a drink in town,” I say.
“Maybe I’ll join you,” Dad says.
Dale gives me a side-eye.
“He wants to talk to us about something,” I say.
Dad takes the hint. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you need anything.”
Dale nods to him. “We will.”
That’s Dad. He knows when to back off, but he also makes sure we know he’s always there for us. I don’t have the first clue what Murphy wants with us, but it’s got to be important. He wouldn’t have asked for both of us otherwise.
“I have to grab my wallet,” Dale says. “It’s at the house.”
“I’ll walk over with you,” I say. “We can go from there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Dale, Ashley, and I walk the half-mile path to the guesthouse, which will be my place of residence once they move out.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of your parents,” Ashley says, “but Brendan told me some strange stuff that night he and I had dinner.”
“That night he tried to move in on my woman,” Dale says, only half joking.
Ashley giggles. “He didn’t get very far.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
“Not a lot, just that…”
“What, baby?” Dale asks, his eyes wide.
“That…people seem to disappear when the Steels are involved.”