“Everything’s fine. I came to tell you I cooked dinner so you guys can come eat.”
“What a nice surprise.” His grandfather patted him on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to cook dinner for us. We know how hard you’ve been working.”
“I wanted to do it. It’s been three weeks since we’ve been together, and I missed you.” After returning from the latest round of touring, he had been working late, and his grandparents were asleep by the time he made it home.
“Well, what are we waiting for? I’m starved,” his grandmother said, starting off.
After his grandfather blessed the food, the only sounds that could be heard for the first several minutes were forks scraping against plates.
“Son, this is really good. Now, don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Jones is a great cook, but I sure enjoy when you get in the kitchen.”
Terrence’s housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, occasionally stepped in as cook when he went on tour, or on the days his grandmother didn’t prepare meals. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
“I agree. It’s a shame you don’t have a special lady here to share these fabulous meals.” His grandmother forked up another portion and moaned appreciably.
Terrence glanced over at her innocent expression. “Grandma?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” she answered pleasantly.
“We’ve had this conversation before.”
She patted his arm. “I know, dear. But your grandpa and I aren’t getting any younger. We don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone.” She leaned closer and winked. “And we want a couple of great-grandchildren before the Lord calls us home.”
He looked to his grandfather for help.
“Sorry. I’m with your grandmother. We won’t be here forever, and I’d feel better knowing you had someone to share your life with. Besides, I haven’t had anyone to bounce on my knee in quite some time.”
“I think you’d make a great husband and father. Any young woman would be lucky to have you,” his grandmother added.
Terrence dropped his head. They’d had this conversation many times, even more so in the past year. He wasn’t willing to open himself up for the kind of hurt love could bring—he’d been there, done that. An image of Janae’s shy smile floated through his mind, and along with it, the familiar stirring in his gut—feelings that seemed to have taken on a life of their own. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply, trying to force the feelings away. He felt his grandmother’s hand gently cover his own.
“Baby, are you okay?”
Terrence lifted his head and opened his eyes, noting the speculative looks on his grandparents’ faces. He kissed the back of her hand. “I’m fine, Grandma.” He picked up his fork. She continued to observe him, and he sought to reassure her. “Really, I’m okay.” He looked down minutes later to see that they had finished eating. “If you guys are done, leave your plates here, and I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Are you sure?” his grandfather asked as he stood.
“Yes.”
“Well...okay.” His grandmother caressed his face. “I sense something going on with you, but I won’t pry. You’re our special angel, and we love you. If you want to talk, we’ll be here...no matter what time it is.” She accepted her husband’s help from the chair.
“I know, and I love you both.” Terrence stood, stacked the plates and took them to the kitchen. As soon as they were gone, he braced his hands on the counter, then took several deep breaths. He’d made it his life’s mission to stay away from serious commitment. Now he found himself actually pursuing a woman. What else could he call contemplating flying across the state for the sole purpose of seeing Janae?
Janae opened the door Saturday morning to her big brother’s smiling face.
“Hey, baby girl,” Devin said, picking her up and swinging her around like he’d done when she was small.
“Hi,” she said with a laugh. “Put me down, you nut, and come in.”
He gently set her on her feet. “How are you?”
“I’m good. What about you?”
Devin followed her to the kitchen. “No complaints. It smells good in here.”
“I knew you’d be hungry, so I fixed you breakfast.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet. That’s why you’re my favorite sister,” he said with a wink.
“I’m your only sister. I just need to make the omelets. Everything else is ready.”
Devin went to the sink to wash his hands. “I can dice the peppers and mushrooms.”
“Already done. You can set the table and pour the juice.”
“Okay,” he said, reaching into the cabinets for plates.
Janae finished the omelets, brought everything to the table, then sat.
Devin took a seat next to her, reached for her hand and blessed their food. He cut into the omelet and groaned with the first bite. “Man, I’ve missed your omelets. Mine never come out like this.”
“Oh, I see. That’s why you really stopped by. And here I thought you wanted to spend some quality time with your only sister.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask you to cook. We could have gone out.”
“Yeah, uh-huh,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He reached for the jar of jam in the center of the table. “Please tell me this is some of Mom’s peach jam.” He spread some on his biscuit and took a huge bite. “Mmm, I love this stuff.”
Janae folded her arms and lifted an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you, sport, but Mom did not make that.”
He paused midbite and frowned. “Then who made it?”
“I did.”
“You know how to make her jams?”
She winked, giving him a self-satisfied smile.
Devin picked up her hand. “Janae, if you give me a jar of this, I’ll wash your car, your windows, clean the kitchen...”
She snatched her hand back and fell out laughing. “I’ll settle for you washing the car. You can have one jar each of peach and strawberry.” She shook her head at his look of pure delight as he finished his meal.
“Thanks, baby girl. That hit the spot.” He leaned back and patted his belly. “By the way, have you heard from Lawrence lately?”
Janae spun around from the sink where she stood rinsing the dishes. “No. Why? Have you seen him?”
“No, but I noticed that huge floral arrangement in the living room.”
“Please, even when we were dating and he was supposedly in love with me, he never bought me flowers.” Lawrence Mason, a fellow teacher and the last man she’d dated, claimed to love her. They had discussed marriage until she was selected for a teaching position they’d both applied for. He had even gone so far as to suggest that she turn the position down so he could get it, citing his need for a larger salary if they were to be married. She’d refused and broken off the relationship a year ago. He’d harassed her until she threatened to go to the police and report him to the school board. Out of the blue, he’d called three months ago, blaming her for his contract not being renewed, and wouldn’t believe that she had no idea what he was talking about.
“So