I run my hand over my hair. “It’s been like this for a while. You would know if you came home more often.” I add a smirk with my comment, so she knows I’m joking . . . well, partially joking. I can’t recall the last time she was on the West Coast, let alone here, in our home.
“Well, I’d be more informed if you had a social media account where I could stalk you and the obvious changes you’re making in your appearance.” She touches my shoulder. “Have you been working out?”
“Your brother has been adamant about obtaining a six-pack,” Dad says, barely looking up from the picture he’s coloring, most likely for Palmer. He loves coloring swear words for visitors, thinks it’s hilarious.
“Really?” Palmer drags out. And, in a ninja-like move, she reaches for my shirt and lifts it, flashing my stomach. Her eyes pop open, followed by a giant grin as I swat her hand away and step to the side. “Cooper Joseph Chance, my oh my, look at you, you little stud.” Turning to Mom, she points at me. “Have you seen his stomach?”
Absentmindedly, Mom nods. “Yes, he lent it to me the other night so I could get the laundry done. He was uncooperative at first, sitting shirtless in my laundry tub, but once I started putting some elbow grease against his abs, he giggled the whole time in utter glee.”
“Oooh, Mom with the funnies,” Palmer says, laughing.
“Do you realize how disturbing that is?” I ask.
“I told him to put ‘Mom does laundry on my abs’ in his dating profile, but he refused to.”
Mouth wide again in humor, Palmer turns toward me. “Oh em gee, you’re on dating apps? Which one? Let me see your profile. Do you have sexy pictures on it? Oh God, bathroom selfies? Please tell me you do not have bathroom selfies. I hate when guys take bathroom selfies, especially when they don’t remove things from the counter. No one needs to know the intimate details of what toothpaste and deodorant you use when swiping.” She reaches for my pockets, searching for my phone. “Where is it? I want to see. Have you seen it, Mom? Is he charming?”
“I helped him put it together.” Mom picks up her knitting needles and begins to move them around with fluffy yellow yarn. She’s been working on blankets for children at the local children’s hospital. She’s made fifty-two already and loves receiving pictures from families of her blankets with their kids.
“Oh my God, Cooper, Mom helped you with your profile?” Palmer laughs, gripping the counter.
Yup, this night could not get any worse.
Just then, both our phones beep at the same time. Palmer looks at me, confused. I send her the same glance, and together we pull out our phones. I’m half expecting a text from Ford about being late, but when I see a notification from my dating app, my mouth goes slightly dry.
I swipe open my phone, and the app pops up with a heart above a picture of my sister, declaring I have a match nearby. My balls shrivel up inside me.
“Ewww,” Palmer says, looking up at me.
“What?” Mom asks.
“I just matched with Cooper.” She dry heaves and covers her mouth.
“I’m not that repulsive, you ass.” I push her away just as the front door closes. We all turn to see Ford walking down the hallway in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt.
He glances around the kitchen. “What did I miss?”
Still coloring, Dad doesn’t bother to lift his head as he says, “We’ve established that Cooper has abs, your mom uses said abs to clean laundry, Coop thinks it tickles, and your sister and brother just matched on their dating apps, which has repulsed them, but to me, the romantic match only makes this day that much better.”
A smirk spreads across Ford’s lips. “Man, I’ve missed you guys.”
“Mom, you have to tell them,” I whisper as we decorate her pudding cups in the kitchen while Dad shows off his bookshelf to Palmer and Ford in the living room.
When Mom asked where Larkin was, Ford said she’d hung back at the bed-and-breakfast because she didn’t want to step in on any family bonding. Mom and Dad were not too happy about that and immediately forced Ford to call her and tell her that next time she’d better attend any and all family dinners.
When I glanced over at my brother, I relished the embarrassment etched all over his face. The man attempts to maintain professionalism at all times, but it’s next to impossible in our family. Especially since Mom and Dad seem to be so attached to Larkin—they see her as one of their own.
Now that dinner is done and the over-the-line phone call with Ford’s assistant is out of the way, it’s time for Mom and Dad to spill the beans.