I’d start the clean-out in here, I decided. The kitchen was the heart of the home, after all. Though Liza didn’t seem like she was the sentimental type. More like the frozen-in-time type. It happened. Life threw someone an unexpected curve, and things like household maintenance went right out the window. Sometimes permanently.
When it was ready, we took the food and wine into the sunroom, where a smaller table looked out over the backyard. The view was all woods and creek, dappled in gold as the sun sank lower in the summer sky.
When I moved to take a seat next to Waylay, Liza shook her head. “Uh-uh. These two sit next to each other, they’ll be wrestling on the floor before cookies.”
“I’m sure they can behave themselves for one meal,” I insisted.
She snorted. “No, they can’t.”
“No, we can’t,” Knox said at the same time.
“Of course we can,” Nash insisted.
Liza jerked her head at Waylay, who scampered to the opposite side of the table with her plate. The dogs filed in and trotted up to claim their sentry positions around the table. Two of them had judged Waylay to be the one most likely to drop food and stationed themselves next to her.
Waylon plopped down behind Liza at the head of the table.
Both men moved to take the chair next to mine, Knox winning it by throwing an elbow that nearly had Nash dropping his plate.
“See?” their grandmother said with a triumphant jab of her fork.
I took my seat and tried to ignore my acute awareness of Knox as he sat down. The task became downright impossible when his denim-clad thigh brushed against my arm as he sat down. I yanked my arm back and nearly put my plate in my lap.
“Why are you so jumpy?” Waylay asked.
“I’m not jumpy,” I insisted, bobbling my wine glass when I reached for it.
“So, what were you fightin’ over this time?” Liza asked her grandsons, magnanimously changing the subject.
“Nothin’，” Knox and Nash said in unison. The glare that passed between them made me think they didn’t like being on the same page about anything.
“Aunt Naomi broke ’em up,” Waylay reported, studying a slice of tomato with suspicion.
“Eat your salad,” I told her.
“Who was winnin’？” Liza asked.
“Me,” the brothers announced together.
The pronouncement was followed by another chilly silence.
“Rough and tumble as they come, these two,” Liza reminisced. “’Course, they used to make up after a fight and be back to bein’ thick as thieves in no time. Guess y’all outgrew that part.”
“He started it,” Nash complained.
Knox snorted. “Just ’cause you’re the good one doesn’t mean you’re always innocent.”
I understood the dynamics of the good sibling versus the bad one all too well.
“You two with Lucy thrown in the mix?” Liza shook her head. “Whole town knew trouble was coming when you three got together.”
“Lucy?” I asked before I could help myself.
“Lucian Rollins,” Nash said as he used his bun to scoop up the ground beef that escaped to his plate. “An old friend.”
Knox grunted. His elbow brushed mine, and I felt my skin catch fire again. I withdrew as far as I dared without ending up in Liza’s lap.
“What’s Lucy up to these days?” she asked. “Last I heard he was some big-wig mogul in a suit.”
“That’s about the truth,” Nash said.
“Kid was a hustler,” Liza explained. “Always knew he was meant for bigger and better things than a trailer and hand-me-downs.”
Waylay’s gaze slid to Liza.
“Lots of people come from humble beginnings,” I said.
Knox looked at me and shook his head in what might have been amusement.
“What?”
“Nothing. Eat your dinner.”
“What?” I demanded again.
He shrugged. “Chivalry. Humble beginnings. You talk like you read the dictionary for fun.”
“I’m so glad you find humor in my vocabulary. It just makes my day.”
“Don’t mind Knox,” Nash cut in. “He’s intimidated by women with brains.”
“You want my fist up your nose again?” Knox offered gamely.
I kicked him under the table. It was purely on reflex.
“Ow! Fuck,” he muttered, leaning down to rub his shin.
All eyes came to me, and I realized what I’d done. “Great,” I said, throwing down my fork in mortification. “A few minutes here and there with you, and it’s contagious. Next thing you know, I’ll be putting strangers in headlocks on the street.”