Page 70 of Protecting What Is Mine

“Oh, but don’t you worry. Marry knows good and well she’s not allowed in this house. Not anymore.” Mom turns back and shoots Gabe a dissatisfied look.

Gabe shrugs. “Hey, she’s a good dog. If Chet doesn’t want to take care of her, someone has to.”

“Excuse me.” Christy shoots a disapproving look at Gabe. “Marry is very well taken care of, thank you. Besides, I believe your mother’s issue has more to do with you using her bacon to feed our dog.”

“Exactly.” Mom nods. “Now, anytime she’s been allowed in the house she goes straight to the kitchen and paws at my refrigerator.”

Gabe smiles proudly. “What can I say? She’s well trained.”

Mom turns her attention back to Vanessa. “Come on inside, dear. Let’s get you that tea, and we’ll find the biggest bowl in the cupboard for those two.” Vanessa steps past Sam as she and Mom wander off toward the kitchen.

“I really can’t thank you enough for including Vanessa and me in your celebration,” Sam says as she looks around at the room full of people. “Aside from her favorite Aunt Mollie, she’s really never had a sense of what family is supposed to be.”

Christy smiles. “I think I can safely speak for Marie when I say you’re welcome any time. Though, maybe we should check back at the end of the night and see if you think you’ll ever want to come back.”

Vanessa runs back into the living room. “Mommy! Aunt Mollie! You have to come see.”

Mollie looks to me, confused.

I shrug. “No clue.”

“What is it, baby?” Sam asks.

“They have the biggest table I’ve ever seen. But there’s so many people here tonight, Mrs. Wilde had to set up another table and it’s just my size.”

Sam smiles. “Well, that’s perfect then, huh?”

“Yep. And the best part is, she said there’s just enough room for Aunt Mollie and Hank to sit there with me.”

I slap my knee. “Damnit, Mom! Are you serious?”

From the kitchen I hear Mom, as if on cue, “Henry! Language.”

Gabe bursts out laughing. “Back at the kiddy table, where you belong.”

Apparently, Jack and Chet find it amusing as well. Chet lets out a groan and brings a hand to his torso after he laughs.

Serves you right, brother. I never did like you, anyway.

Everyone continues to make jokes at my expense, until Mom informs us that supper’s ready.

We sit down to eat, with napkins across our laps, hands folded, and heads bowed while Mom says grace. When she’s finished, those of us stuck at the kiddy table are given first pass at the food, a small conciliation, but as Gabe watches me heap spoonful after spoonful of his favorite sides onto my plate, I find it satisfying all the same.

Within a few minutes, we’re all laughing and sharing stories about growing up on the ranch, and genuinely enjoying ourselves, like so many Wednesdays before.

That is, until we hear footsteps in the living room. If that isn’t enough to extinguish the positive mood, the sight of Leo standing before us is.

“Hey,” he says as if nothing about the situation is the least bit awkward. “Is there any food left?”

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