Page 152 of Outside The Wire

“Is not a big deal,” I cut in. “You have to let this go. We found a house we liked and we ran with it.” I picked up the tray and carried it to the table. I knew Mom was never going to let this go. She wanted grandkids as soon as possible, and waiting to get married was only going to delay things.

“And what’s this I hear about him going back to work for a security company?”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, you’ve been listening in on private conversations again.”

“I have not,” she said, bustling along behind me. “I can’t help it if I overheard a conversation when I was outside a door.”

“You could have moved when you knew you shouldn’t be listening.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“You were waiting for details,” I pointed out. “And since you’re so eager to know, he hasn’t agreed to anything. He’s considering it.”

“But that would mean moving to another state. Why would you buy a house here if he’s considering moving?”

“Because there’s the possibility that he would open a branch here.”

She stopped arguing at that. “Oh, well, that does put things in a different light.”

I thought she might see things in a different way.

“Is that something he really wants to do?”

“Mom, can we get through this meal and think about something that might happen a year from now at the next dinner?”

“I’m just saying, if he likes his life with you so much, why would he want to go back to all that danger?”

“I’ve thought about it, too. Like I said, it’s something we’ll discuss after he’s had time to think it over.”

“Well, you should tell him you don’t want him to do it. He’ll listen to you.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll just march in there and tell him it’s off the table. He’s not allowed to do it.”

“Exactly,” she said with a firm nod.

My mother clearly didn’t understand sarcasm or men. “I’m not going to do that. Besides, this is his life. I want him to make his own decisions and be happy with who he is. If we’re going to get married someday, we have to work as a team, not as me dictating to him.”

“I dictate to your father all the time.”

“Yes, and he wears tinfoil hats and sits in his underwear half the day.”

“Speaking of which, we should probably make sure he has pants on for dinner.”

“Asher’s already with him. If he doesn’t have pants on by now, I’m not sure there’s much point in telling him to get dressed,” I pointed out.

“Either way, we need to let them know dinner’s on the table. Let’s just hope your father hasn’t talked Asher’s ear off about his latest conspiracy theory.”

I really hoped he hadn’t. “What is it this week?”

Mother shook her head. “Lollipops.”

“Lollipops? What could possibly be wrong with those?”

“It’s too complicated to get into.”

We headed down the hallway to the den where my father most likely had Asher trapped. I felt bad abandoning him in there, but he assured me he would be okay. I pushed the door open and stared in shock at what I found.

“It was the Greeks!” my father shouted. “They were the first.”

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