Page 48 of Love Takes Home

I look around and see two very attractive older women smiling at me. One has dark blonde hair, and the other is auburn with a touch of silver. “Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is that Mr. Bennett you have sitting there next to you trying to shrink down in the booth?” the woman with blonde hair asks.

I look at Joker, who is indeed much shorter than he was a moment ago, his face buried in his chest.

“Yup.” I grin at them. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, actually, you can. Is your name Ginny?” the darker-haired woman asks.

“It is.”

“Oh, how wonderful. Joker! You turn around and look at us right now, young man.”

I hear an odd noise come out of Joker. You know that whiny groan when you really don’t want to do something, but you know you will because you’re still afraid your mom or dad is goingto show up and embarrass or ground you? Yeah, that noise. I should know, I’ve made it quite a few times the last few months.

“Be right back,” I tell the women. Slinking down in the booth next to Joker, I whisper, “You alright?”

He nods his head.

“Do you know those women?”

He nods his head.

“Are you avoiding them for a reason?”

He nods his head.

“Want to tell me why?”

He vehemently shakes his head no.

“Hmm.” I sit back up in the booth and turn to face the ladies again. “Can I ask who you are? And maybe how you know my name?”

“Oh, silly us. We feel like we already know you. I’m Claire Goode.” The blonde points to herself. “And this is my best friend, Gloria Thorpe.”

The darker-haired woman waves.

“Wait a minute. Thorpe. Do you know Abigail?”

“That’s my daughter! And her daughter-in-law!” the women reply together.

“You’re Noah’s mom?” I ask the blonde. She nods in confirmation. “And how do you know Joker?”

“Oh. I work with his company. I’m a therapist,” Claire tells me.

“And you are also a therapist,” I point to Gloria. “I remember you now. You talked to Trish after everything happened.”

“I did.” She smiles at me. “You’re her best friend, right?”

“And Davis’s sister.”

“Your brother sure is a good-looking fella. I met him when he was working down here. I can see the family resemblance.”

“Joker, why are you hiding?” Claire asks, laughter in her voice.

“I’m not,” he calls out over his shoulder, still hunkered down in the booth.

“What are you afraid of?”

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