Page 31 of Naughty Festivities

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Jack,” Debbie Rutherfordsaid as she opened the door.

“Hey, Mom.” He wrapped his arm around her and held her for a really long time.

He’d promised himself he would come home more after his dad died, but life kept getting in the way. When Amelia asked him about not spending time in Philly last night, he’d been a little ashamed.

What kind of son did that make him?

If it wasn’t for Lucy, his sister, he’d feel a stronger obligation, but she had a husband and kids, so his mom wasn’t lonely.

Not that it was about that.

One day, she wouldn’t be here, and Jack knew he’d regret it. He hadn’t been close to his dad but had been a momma’s boy growing up. Then he’d head to Harvard and ended up doing long hours as a junior lawyer in Washington before returning to Philadelphia and running a campaign to win the honor of becoming their senator.

Then his divorce.

Life had just disappeared.

“Come in. Lucy will be here with the kids later,” she said.

“You want me to look at the ladder you said was wobbly?” Jack asked.

“Oh, would you? It’s the one to the loft and I don’t want to fall. Not with your dad gone.”

Shit.

“Of course.” Jack dropped his bag at the door.

While she made him a cup of cocoa—because apparently he still drank that—and pulled out some fresh muffins from the oven, Jack sat at the kitchen table and listened to her update him on all the neighborhood gossip.

“The boys are so big now, Jack. Wait until you see them,” she said, referring to Lucy’s twin boys.

They were nearly five.

“Mom, I see them every week on Zoom.” Jack stuffed a mouthful of blueberry muffin into his mouth.

“You do not zoom them every week.” She chastised him.

“Fine, monthly.” He spoke with his mouthful and got a pointed look. Brushing off the crumbs—and getting another mom look—Jack stood and took his plate to the sink.

“Well, at least you still know how to clean up after yourself.” She nudged him.

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