Page 112 of The Usual Family Mayhem

Talk about an excitement killer. “Yeah, he needs to be better or at least behave. He’s also going to need to learn about boundaries because we will have some.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing you tell him all that.”

Oh, I would. Harlan and I would come to an understanding. I wasn’t going anywhere, so he needed to tone down the jackassery. “I’d rather talk about us than him.”

“You know, I left work thinking I was going to a party. A party I dreaded.”

He backed us up until my butt hit the counter. It looked like we were finally on the same page. “And?”

He kissed my neck. “I’m off for the rest of the day.”

“Oh.”

“We could get started on that dating thing.” Those impressive hands of his started moving again.

I kissed him because who wouldn’t? I put all my energy behind it to show him how committed I was to making this work.

“I like your problem-solving,” I whispered in between soft kisses. “I’ll bring the muffins.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Three weeks later...

I’d been back in Winston-Salem full-time for three weeks and no one tried to fire me. That might have been a new career record. Gram was good about stuff like employee retention. She had a few simple rules, the biggest being that I stay out of her kitchen except to eat. No cooking or baking allowed.

Today was a special day. Mags’ Desserts had gotten a huge order boost. Harlan didn’t take credit but the people placing the orders for their business meetings and get-togethers over the last week were his golfing buddies. His fingerprints were all over the rush of new business. Jackson said it was his dad’s way of apologizing and as close as we’d ever get to hearing the words.

Baby steps.

Harlan still viewed me with skepticism. That was fine. I wasn’t his biggest fan either. We had an unspoken agreement to get along for Jackson’s sake. Jackson and I had a similar agreement to hold firm on our boundaries when Harlan tried to shift the line. Since he was “exploring the possibility” of running for office, he was busy elsewhere and I was grateful.

Tonight, Gram was making a special dinner to celebrategetting all the orders out the door on time. She didn’t divulge the menu, but I loved her cooking so knowing the entrée ahead of time wasn’t necessary.

Jackson wouldn’t be here for another hour. Even I could admit making him leave the office right at five might be too much. He loved his job... and whatever.

Now I just needed to find the cooks. Gram and Celia had been in the kitchen a few minutes ago. The delicious smell of roasting onion and garlic wafting through the room gave them away. I’d also heard them moving around and decided to visit in case there was a stray scone left over from this morning that needed to be eaten. I considered that sort of thing part of my job.

I looked out the window over the sink in time to see Gram and Celia walk around the side of the shed and disappear. The only thing back there was a mini greenhouse. Gram used the space for repotting and to experiment with a few plants she feared would take over the garden. She separated them to keep them from “cluttering up” the lawn while she assessed.

Why have them if they could be trouble? I had no idea because I knew even less about gardening than I did about baking. I let Gram handle this and stuck to admiring the flowers she planted and moved to the yard.

Playing with plants and flowers now, so close to a meal, was a bit strange. I slipped outside to check if they needed help. I was perfectly capable of moving pots and bags of soil.

Celia’s voice stuck out. She said something about needing to be careful.

Her tone. The edge to it. The bit of panic.

Oh, shit.

The greenhouse door stood open. I took that as an invitation and walked inside. Purple and pink trumpet-shaped blooms in pots lined the floor. We had flowers like this in the yard but not exactly these. “Pretty.”

Gram and Celia jumped at the sound of my voice. They both wore gloves and masks over their faces. Gram also wore what looked like a pink velour sweat suit with purple flowers on it and a matching floppy hat.

Where would someone buy something like that?

“Oh, no,” Celia said.

“No.” Gram backed me out of the greenhouse and into the fresh air. “You should stay out of there.”

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