Bennett — Age 13
I popped a piece of watermelon into my mouth, then set the bowl on the counter. “The picnic table’s clear.”
“Thanks, Bennett.” Mom stood at the kitchen sink, making her way through the stack of dishes and bowls piled high. She looked tired but happy.
“Here, let me do that.” Dad wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. “You’ve done more than your share today.”
She dried her hands on her apron and turned toward him, placing her arms around his neck. When they kissed, all of us boys groaned in unison, except Luke, who had found a discarded cookie from someone’s plate and was now eating it.
“You boys just wait,” Dad said. “Someday you’re each going to love a woman as much as I love your mom. Well, maybe not quite that much, but you should certainly try.”
“No thanks,” I said. I had no plans to fall in love. Ever. “Girls are weird.”
Mom laughed and kissed Dad again before tossing a dish towel over his shoulder and allowing him to take her place at the sink. “Speaking of girls, Bennett, I noticed you and Maven were getting along today.”
I scrunched up my nose. “She wouldn’t stop following Carson and me around. What was I supposed to do? Tell her to leave?”
Mom’s look said that’s exactly what she’d expected, and honestly, I would have said something except that Carson was the one that kept inviting her along. His mom must have asked him to keep an eye on his sister since she’d had to miss the BBQ because of work.
“Well, thanks for being nice to her. I know she really likes you.”
Jaxon made a kissy sound, so I punched his arm.
“I meant as a friend,” Mother corrected five seconds too late. “And, Bennett, don’t punch your brother.”
“Jaxon.” Dad glanced over his shoulder. “Grab a dish towel and come dry these dishes for me, please. Bennett and Tate, can you two go put the extra chairs away in the barn?”
“Sure.” I grinned at Tate. That was definitely better than dish duty.
“And you,” he said to my mom. “Stop fussing with the leftovers and go sit down. I’ll get the food put away.”
Mom smiled at Dad in a way that had me pulling Tate toward the door. We’d seen enough kissing for today. I grabbed one of my rubber boots from the back porch and was putting it on when my toes came in contact with something squishy.
“What in the…?” I yelled, yanking off the boot and dumping it upside down. A huge bullfrog plopped onto the ground and let out a large croak.
Tate scooped it up before it had the chance to escape. He held it up, looking at it. “How’d you get in there?”
How had it gotten in there?
“What is it?” Mom asked, peeking around the corner of the open door.
Tate lifted the frog toward her. “There was a bullfrog inside Bennett’s boot.”
“Oh, heavens.” She made a face. “That’s a big one too.”
I shivered at the reminder. I didn’t mind frogs, but I hadn’t been prepared for the feeling of it under my foot.
With a little more caution, I put the offending boot on, then grabbed the other when a croak alerted me to a second frog.
I dumped the boot, and sure enough, a bullfrog of similar size dropped out of it.
“Another one?” Tate asked, scooping that one up as well.
Mom tucked her lips inward, fighting a smile. “What are the odds?”
Someone had put those frogs in my boots!
I narrowed my eyes, my mind moving through the likely suspects until it settled on an image of Maven near the creek with a bucket in hand. “It was Maven.”
“Sweet little Maven?” Mom shook her head. “I doubt it. What about Dominic or James? Or the Stevenson boy?”
I shook my head, fighting a smile. I didn’t know why, but I knew it was Maven. She might look scrawny and innocent, but she was trouble.