Page 106 of Bidding War

“Don’t apologize for it. Not ever. I’m sorry we had to come back here for what is likely the world’s most awkward supper.”

I chuckle, and he kisses me. “Thanks for that.”

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

We walk in and take the elevator up the short ride to his parents’ apartment. His mother answers the door, looking as lovely as ever. I swear there’s light in her eyes when she smiles at me. The woman is made of warmth. “Come in, let me take your coats.”

“Hi, Kitty.”

“June, it is so good to see you.” We pass our coats to her, and she hangs them for us. “Well, I am famished. I hope you’re hungry. I have been in the kitchen all day.”

Anderson gives a questioning expression. “You cooked tonight?”

“I can, you know.”

“Well … yeah, but the question is, do you?”

“You watch that lip of yours, young man. You’re never too old for me to take over my knee.”

He laughs at the thought. “You never even did that when I was a kid.”

“And now you’re a grown man with a smart lip. I should have done it back then, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it now.”

He clutches his abdomen, wearing a teasing grin. “I’m not going over a knee with my injuries. Guess I have to apologize instead. Sorry, Mom.”

She smirks over her shoulder at us. “That’s better. Now, come along.”

The apartment is airy and bright in whites and blues. It’s an older building, so the architecture is gorgeous. I love old Boston buildings. They have such character.

We enter a smaller dining room than the one we had eaten in with his whole family last time. This one is similarly decorated to the rest of the house, but the table set is the palest gray to set it apart from the room. Inside, Elliot sits at the four-top table, and it is disconcerting to see him smile so genuinely. His other smiles always seem as though he is merely tolerating the presence of other humans.

“Anderson, June, I am happy you could make it. Please have a seat.”

Kitty says, “I’ll go get dinner?—"

“No, Kitty, sit,” Elliot says as he stands up. “I’ll fetch dinner. You’ve been working all day.”

“Thank you, love. And bring that bottle I have chilling in the refrigerator if you don’t mind.” She sits, and on his way out, he kisses the top of her head before he exits.

We take seats, and Anderson quietly asks, “What in the hell has gotten into him?”

She smiles sadly. “I think it is knowing how close he came to losing you. It softened him, Anderson. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but it shook him up.”

He sighs. “I guess we will enjoy it while it lasts.”

“That’s my plan,” she confides. “He hasn’t been like this since he lost his parents, and that faded within a year.”

“But he’s always doted on you,” I point out.

“He’s kinder to me than everyone else. I’d have to be blind not to see it. But even so, he’s not normally like this, and I enjoy it. I just wish our oldest didn’t have to almost die to get this side of him.”

We hear footsteps, so Anderson changes the topic. “Speaking of kids, how is Cole?”

Kitty’s smile grows strained. “If he weren’t a little difficult, then he wouldn’t be Cole.”

Elliot walks in with a silver cart on wheels. On top is a domed platter, and the shelf below contains the side dishes. He sets everything up for us, then reveals the main course. “Prime rib, cooked rare. We looked it up, and from what we read, it should be tender enough for you to eat in your condition.”

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