The Usual Family Mayhem

Chapter Fifteen

Jackson got to Gram’s house the next day in time for breakfast. Smart man. A minute after he walked through the door Gram had a plate in front of him, coffee brewing, and muffins warming in the toaster oven.

Impressive service. Maybe Gram and Celia did like him better.

I eyed him from the opposite side of the kitchen table. Not my usual breakfast seat, but I wanted to be close to him to look for clues about his adventures last night. Sure, he was a grown man. His private life wasn’t my business. Blah, blah, blah.

Before I could poke around with carefully crafted neutral-sounding questions, Celia walked in. She smiled at Gram then sat down next to Jackson.

She touched his arm. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I thought he was going to ease off the hard sell.”

I’d missed something. “What happened yesterday?”

Jackson shrugged. “Dad’s not great at being told no.”

Still had no clue what the subject matter of this conversation was except that it had something to do with Harlan. “What are we talking about?”

Jackson and Celia looked at me but neither said anything.

I skipped any attempt to be stealthy. “You can hear me speaking, right?”

“Sorry, hon. It’s just that Harlan can be difficult to deal with when he gets an idea and won’t let it go.”

Celia dropped that like it was big news. “Everything is fine.”

Jackson didn’t chime in. I took that to mean I’d guessed correctly. Things weren’t all that fine. It sounded like Harlan’s pissy mood had continued during his lunch with Jackson yesterday. Not a surprise. Harlan only knew one speed and one way to operate—to verbally overrun anyone standing in front of him. He talked and lobbied until he convinced someone of something, no matter the topic. But the clipped conversation at the table now suggested yesterday wasn’t about the usual Harlan is annoying stuff.

The idea of Harlan running around to Jackson and Celia, pushing for whatever he was pushing for, had me worried that on top of the business deal Gram and Celia didn’t know about because I hadn’t filled them in yet and the poisoning issue I was investigating without their knowledge, something else might be wrong. That called for multitasking. Not my strongest skill.

After they dropped the cryptic Harlan remark the rest of the breakfast ran smoothly. Gram’s spread included homemade lemon curd, jam, and this fancy butter she got at the specialty store. Just enough calories to make me forget about being left out.

Retelling of neighborhood gossip turned to Delilah Rhine and her dead husband. I was about to chime in when Gram pivoted to a story about delivering a cake to a baby shower where the mom and mom-in-law tried to see who could be more passive-aggressive. The event ended with one of them storming off and taking her famous potato salad with her.

I loved having this back channel to behind-the-scenes behavior. The people best able to hold it together in public tended to flail around in private. Fake decency ran a close second to fake competency in some social circles.

With the eating done and the dishes cleaned, Jackson gestured for me to follow him outside. He held his third coffee of the morning in a death grip. Whatever he did last night made him tired today and wasn’t that just spectacular.

We walked to the end of the patio and kept going. A path wound its way past newly planted rosebushes. “These are a nice addition to the garden.”

“We put them in last week,” he said.

“We as in you?”

On top of everything else he was a gardener. Not fair. One person should not be blessed with so many skills.

“I can do more than review business contracts.”

“I sure hope so.”

We took a few more steps and passed the mini greenhouse Gram used for storage. Walked past the shed that housed landscaping supplies. Gram had it painted a shade of green that made it fade into the yard.

We ended our travels at a bench. This one sat under an arbor covered in early honeysuckle blooms. This type didn’t have a scent like other honeysuckle, but the vibrant red tubular flowers would soon light up the backyard in the way Gram loved.

Jackson killed my good mood almost immediately. “Okay, tell me more about the missing stars. The locked cabinet sounds unrelated, so let’s skip that for now.”

I didn’t agree about the cabinet and we’d get to all that soon enough. I had a bigger target right now. “First, tell me what happened with your dad yesterday that has you and Celia acting like you’re at a funeral.”

“Are we going to keep doing this back-and-forth without either of us answering a question?”

Jackson’s expression suggested he’d be happy to do just that. “I can go round and round until you tell me why you’re really in town and what’s happening at work. Then we can move on to other topics.”

Huh. That didn’t go the way I intended.

“It seems we’ve reached a communication impasse.”

We always sucked at communication. Everything he said sounded like a judgment. I fought back with a mix of sarcasm and defensiveness. The immature byplay hadn’t gotten better with age.

He smiled for the first time this morning. “You really think you can beat me at this game?”

“You underestimate my ability to deflect and ignore.”

Then the rest slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it, but yeah. “Maybe you’d be in a better mood if you’d had a better date last night.”

My comment hung out there.

He started laughing. Not a little guffaw or a giggle. A full-throated, lead-with-his-chest laugh.

So annoying.

Enough of this. “I’m going to get another muffin.”

“Wait a second.”

He put his hand on my arm and stopped me from getting up. “Don’t run away.”

“I never run.”

“You’ve made that clear.”

He looked at his hand then his fingers slid off my arm. “Why do you care if I date?”

I did care. So much, and being in the same city only intensified my caring. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

My phone buzzed. Because I didn’t want to look at Jackson’s smug face, I checked it. Bad idea. The name flashing on the screen made what was left of my muffin-induced good mood shrivel.

Jackson took a peek. “Who’s Micah?”

I answered Jackson without thinking. “My boss.”

“I thought his name was Michael.”

“It’s a long story.”

Hold up. “How do you know his name?”

Jackson leaned back, crossing one leg over the other at his ankles. He looked relaxed. Unfazed. Very cute in his jeans and polo shirt.

“I told you I checked out your company.”

I ignored that before but not now. Time to circle back to that topic. “Why?”

“Honestly?”

He glanced away for a second then looked at me again. “Because I worry about you.”

“You worry.”

I turned the words over in my head. He sounded like my keeper, or worse, a brother. That was not how I thought of him at all.

He exhaled nice and loud, as if to say he was taking back control of the conversation. “We have three topics up in the air and seem to be spinning in circles. We need to handle one at a time. You answer then I’ll answer then we’ll see where we are. Very easy.”

That sounded reasonable but we could blow this without much effort. Simple things tended to go sideways when we talked.

My cell buzzed again. I meant to give it a quick look then tuck it back under my leg and ignore it while I verbally dug around in Jackson’s private life. The text message stopped me.

“Oh, shit.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He frowned. “Not the response I expected.”

Panic raced through me. I stood up then sat back down. Blinked a few times hoping the message would disappear. I swear the font got bigger.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jackson’s hand went around my shoulder and his voice turned soft. “Did something bad happen?”

“Terrible. The worst, actually.”

“What is it?”

I could barely say the words. “My boss is doing something that will make my life impossible.”

Coming to town. He wanted to meet Gram and Celia.

I couldn’t think of a worse idea.