Such an unenlightened comment coming from a woman in her twenties took Avery aback. But as Matt had said earlier, she wasn’t in the city anymore.
She hugged her back. “It wasn’t so bad. Cab to Dullas, nonstop flight to New Orleans, a rental car here. The most harrowing part was retrieving my luggage.”
“Big, tough career girl,” Buddy murmured, sounding anything but pleased. “I hope you had a cell phone.”
“Of course. Fully charged at all times.” She grinned up at him. “And, you’ll be happy to know, pepper spray in my purse.”
“Pepper spray? Whatever for?” This came from Lilah Stevens.
“Self-protection, Mama,” Cherry supplied, glancing over her shoulder at the older woman.
Lilah, still as trim and attractive as Avery remembered, crossed from the kitchen and caught Avery’s hands. “Self-protection? Well, you won’t be needing that here.” She searched Avery’s gaze. “Avery, sweetheart. Welcome home. How are you?”
Avery squeezed the other woman’s hands, tears pricking her eyes. “I’ve been better, thanks.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Sorrier than I can express.”
“I know. And that means a lot.”
From the other room came the sound of a timer going off. Lilah released Avery’s hands. “That’s the pie.”
The smells emanating from the kitchen were heavenly. Lilah Stevens had been the best cook in the parish and had consistently won baking prizes at the parish fair. Growing up, Avery had angled for a dinner invitation at every opportunity.
“What kind of pie?” she asked.
“Strawberry. I know peach is your favorite but it’s impossible to find a decent peach this time of year. And the first Louisiana berries are in. And delicious, I might add.”
“Silly woman,” Buddy interrupted. “The poor child is exhausted. Stop your yapping about produce and let the girl sit down.”
“Yapping?” She wagged a finger at him. “If you want pie, Mr. Stevens, you’ll have to get yourself down to the Azalea Café.”
He immediately looked contrite. “Sorry, sugar-sweet, you know I was just teasing.”
“Now I’m sugar-sweet, am I?” She rolled her eyes and turned back to Avery. “You see what I’ve put up with all these years?”
Avery laughed. She used to wish her parents could be more like Lilah and Buddy, openly affectionate and teasing. In all the years she had known the couple, all the time she had spent around their home, she had never heard them raise their voices at one another. And when they’d teased each other, like just now, their love and respect had always shown through.
In truth, Avery had often wished her mother could be more like Lilah. Good-natured, outgoing. A traditional woman comfortable in her own skin. One who had enjoyed her children, making a home for them and her husband.
It had seemed to Avery that her mother had enjoyed neither, though she had never said so aloud. Avery had sensed her mother’s frustration, her dissatisfaction with her place in the world.
No, Avery thought, that wasn’t quite right. She had been frustrated by her only child’s tomboyish ways and defiant streak. She had been disappointed in her daughter’s likes and dislikes, the choices she made.
In her mother’s eyes, Avery hadn’t measured up.
Lilah Stevens had never made Avery feel she lacked anything. To the contrary, Lilah had made her feel not only worthy but special as well.
“I do see,” Avery agreed, playing along. “It’s outrageous.”
“That it is.” Lilah waved them toward the living room. “Matt should be here any moment. All I have left to do is whip the potatoes and heat the French bread. Then we can eat.”
“Can I help?” Avery asked.
As she had known it would be, the woman’s answer was a definitive no. Buddy and Cherry led her to the living room. Avery sank onto the overstuffed couch, acknowledging exhaustion. She wished she could lean her head back, close her eyes and sleep for a week.
“You’ve barely changed,” Buddy said softly, tone wistful. “Same pretty, bright-eyed girl you were the day you left Cypress Springs.”
She’d been so damn young back then. So ridiculously naive. She had yearned for something bigger than Cypress Springs, something better. Had sensed something important waited for her outside this small town. She supposed she had found it: a prestigious job; writing awards and professional respect; an enviable salary.
What was it all worth now? If those twelve years hadn’t been, if all her choices still lay before her, what would she do differently?
Everything. Anything to have him with her.
She met Buddy’s eyes. “You’d be surprised how much I’ve changed.” She lightened her words with a smile. “What about you? Besides being as devastatingly handsome as ever, still the most feared and respected lawman in the parish?”
“I don’t know about that,” he murmured. “Seems to me, these days that honor belongs to Matt.”
“West Feliciana Parish’s sheriff is retiring next year,” Cherry chimed in. “Matt’s planning to run for the job.” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. “Those in the know expect him to win the election by a landslide.”
Buddy nodded, looking as pleased as punch. “My son, the parish’s top cop. Imagine that.”
“A regular crime-fighting family dynasty,” Avery murmured.
“Not for long.” Buddy settled into his easy chair. “Retirement’s right around the corner. Probably should have retired already. If I’d had a grandchild to spoil, I—”
“Dad,” Cherry warned, “don’t go there.”
“Three children,” he groused, “all disappointments. Friends of mine have a half-dozen of the little critters already. I don’t think that’s right.” He looked at Avery. “Do you?”
Avery held up her hands, laughing. “Oh, no, I’m not getting involved in this one.”
Cherry mouthed a “Thank you,” Buddy pouted and Avery changed the subject. “I can’t imagine you not being the chief of police. Cypress Springs won’t be the same.”
“Comes a time one generation needs to make room for the next. Much as I hate the thought, my time has come and gone.”
With a derisive snort, Cherry started toward the kitchen. “I’m having a glass of wine. Want one, Avery?”
“Love one.”
“Red or white?”
“Whatever you’re having.” Avery let out a long breath and leaned her head against the sofa back, tension easing from her. She closed her eyes. Images played on the backs of her eyelids, ones from her past: her, Matt and Hunter playing while their parents barbecued in the backyard. Buddy and Lilah snapping pictures as she and Matt headed off to the prom. The two families caroling at Christmastime.
Sweet memories. Comforting ones.
“Good to be back, isn’t it?” Buddy murmured as if reading her thoughts.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Despite everything, yes.” She glanced away a moment, then back. “I wish I’d come home sooner. After Mom … I should have stayed. If I had—”
The unfinished thought hung heavily between them anyway. If she