Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When Myles pulled himself out of the car next to his best friend’s B and B on the last day of the year, he couldn’t help but compare the experience to the first time he’d done it, months before. Sure, it was colder now, but his body creaked less, and there was no anxiety over his welcome this time.
Lucky and Kreed both hugged him tight, and Scratch wagged his entire backside as he approached, but didn’t leap at him in a death-defying show of affection.
“You’re practically limber,” Lucky observed, despite the fact Myles had his cane in hand, just in case.
“I didn’t have to do all the driving this time.”
“I drove most of Alberta,” Jet informed them, puffing his chest out. “And some of the rest of the time.”
“You got your licence?” Wyatt appeared around the corner from the back of the B and B. “Dude. When can you drive us places?”
“Don’t get too excited there,” Myles warned them. “He’s still got months of only driving with an adult in the car.”
“Uncle Myles—”
“Go.” Myles waved the boys off, and they didn’t look back.
“How is he?” Lucky asked, watching as the teens disappeared around the corner of the house.
“Much better. Although the baggage of a father who only showed up when he’s about to die…?” He shrugged. “That comes and goes.”
“But he has you.”
Myles nodded. “He has all of us.” He glanced in the car window at Shelly, asleep in her booster seat.
“I’ll get her.” Kreed opened the door and smiled at Shelly’s groggy greeting. “Heya, darlin’. I’m going to carry you inside. That okay?”
She nodded and hugged him around the neck as he brought her out. She patted his fuzzy cheek with a sleepy “Hi, Mr. Kreed,” then laid her head on his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs.
“I appreciate you putting us up,” Myles said to Lucky as he turned to follow.
“It won’t be for long. Steven wanted everything to be perfect.” Lucky took the car keys from Myles. “Go on inside. I’ll park it for you.”
“I don’t know why he’s insisted on being so secretive.”
“Because he wants you to feel like it’s your home, so he wants it to be perfect.”
“Nothing’s perfect.”
“Give him this. I’ve never seen him so excited about anything.”
“Oh, I’ll do whatever he wants me to do. Don’t worry about that.”
“You just want to see him.”
“It’s been—”
“Four days. He was at your house on Christmas day.”
“Four days,” Myles moaned.
“Go inside, you big baby.”
He did slowly haul himself up the B and B stairs, but he couldn’t help the glance over his shoulder at the bookshop. Not that he expected to see Steven, but still. Only Emma peeked out of the domed cat bed sitting on the porch swing.
As if she’d been watching for him, she jumped down, stretched, and sauntered into the shop, the door obligingly opening for her on its own.
The Oaks’ door also eased open as Myles crossed her porch, letting him into the familiar, if overly fussy, main room. “Who even owns that cat?” he asked no one in particular.
“What cat?” Tiffany asked from her spot in the window seat.
“Emma.”
“Oh.” She waved a hand. “No one. More like she owns all of us.”
“Do you live here now?” Myles asked with a grin, heading over for a hug when she got to her feet.
She shrugged, sat back down, and arranged her skirt and shawl around herself.
“It’s a convenient get-away. Close enough to home I can see the family, far enough away from them I don’t have to be distracted.
It works because Kyle—my husband—is the real caregiver of the family, and loves being a homeschooling dad. ”
“You homeschool?
“We do. Well. Mostly he does, yes. Why?”
“I’m thinking of doing the same. Jet’s only got a year of high school left, and he’s already finished four of the seven credits he needs to graduate. Can’t really see the point of enrolling him in a school for only a few months.”
“So looks like you’re on track, then.”
“It’s more Shelly. I don’t know where to start. We’ve been practicing her reading, but the extent of her maths is figuring out the tip for the delivery guys at dinnertime.”
“Here.” Tiffany fished a small notebook out of her pile, wrote something in it, then tore out the sheet to hand to him.
“That’s Kyle’s email. I’ll call him tonight and let him know to look for something from you.
You can ask him all your questions. Maybe get the kids together a few times a month to hang out. That sort of thing. He’ll help you.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do. After all, I’ve had so many wonderful firsthand observations over the summer.
Moody teens. Precocious six-year-old. A miniscule dog who thinks he’s a rottweiler.
Really, truly, hysterically bad cooking.
” She grinned. “You and your family have been a treasure trove of inspiration.”
Myles snorted. “Glad we could help.”
She smiled a cheshire cat smile, then turned back to her work.
Pocketing the paper, Myles wandered towards the kitchen pass-through window. The dining room was empty since it was well after lunch and dinner service wouldn’t start for another hour or more. Lucky appeared through the door leading to the private area of the house, car keys in hand.
“Kreed’s just putting Shelly in the back room. She didn’t really wake up.”
Myles frowned. “If she sleeps much longer, it’s going to be a nightmare getting her to bed later.”
“Maybe we let her run around the backyards with the dogs when she gets up.”
“That’ll help.” Myles rested his weight on the counter. “Where is MJ?”
“I put his crate in the room with Shelly, but I left the doors to the crate and the room cracked so he can come out when he’s ready.”
“Thanks. He’ll probably just curl up with Shelly.” He frowned at the door to the back rooms. “Maybe I should wake her.”
“Let her sleep. We can always put her to work in the kitchen.” He sighed. “Kreed will never admit it, but he got used to having someone share the load. Doing it all himself is making him grumpy.”
“Tris is liking the Cabin, then?”
“He is. It’s a little less hectic for now, since he’s only cooking for himself, Ozzy, Wyatt and our new resident, Wyatt’s friend Alison, but he’s also still getting the space exactly where he wants it.
It’s always a transition, I guess, cooking in a new place, and apparently, he has to have things just so. ”
“So why not hire a new cook here?”
“Has to be the right fit. Kreed is not the easiest person to work for.”
Even as he said that, Kreed entered the kitchen from the back rooms, followed by Jet, who had apparently entered the house from the balcony of the private room where Shelly was sleeping.
“So why don’t I peel the potatoes for you, then?” Jet was saying. “It’s not like that’s going to mess up your recipe, and then you can take your time with the braising.”
“What do you know about braising?” Kreed grumbled.
“What you taught me, actually. You want to take the time to really sear it well. I can make mashed potatoes.”
Kreed stopped halfway across the kitchen to stare at Jet.
“Well.” Jet squared up to him, chest out a little, and only a quick glance at Myles before he faced Kreed again. “I can. You can supervise. But you don’t have to do it.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
Jet narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t have to. You grumbled the whole way down the hall about how much work you have to do before service. It’s a lot. So.” He shrugged but didn’t fall into his usual slouch. “Let me help.”
After a moment, Kreed grunted, “Fine.” He pointed to the counter across from the barstools. “Work there. Stay out of my way, and you’re just doing the potatoes. You’re not touching my desserts.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jet shot back. “Not until you teach me, anyway.”
“Who said I was going to—”
“I need a job.”
“Jet.” Myles stepped in. “You don’t need a job. We have—”
“I’m not touching Priory’s money,” Jet said. “Not unless Shells needs something, or maybe for school, once I decide what I want to do. And anyway, Wyatt has a job.”
“I ran this place just fine on my own for years before Lucky and Tris showed up.”
“But we did show up,” Lucky reminded him. “And you and I made a pact a long time ago not to let this place wedge itself between us. That means hiring help. With Jake taking more shifts at the bakery with Lucy and her mom, we could use someone, babe.”
“I don’t know if he’s even any good.”
“Mashed potatoes,” Jet said. “Just mashed potatoes.”
Kreed huffed. “Fine.”
“For now,” Jet whispered and winked at Lucky.
“Aprons are in the basket behind the door.” Lucky pointed across the kitchen.
“Cool.” Grin on his face, Jet fetched an apron and started to set up his workspace.
Lucky hurried out and took Myles by the arm. “So. That just happened.”
“You don’t have to hire him.”
“Kreed is a special kind of employer. He needs someone who can stand up to him, and also respect him. Tris was excellent at the first but took a long time to learn the second. Rod is not a conflict kind of guy. He respects Kreed too much to say boo to him, and anyway, he does prefer living in the city and working with Marcus and Eli at the diner. He’s a good cook, but a better teacher, and Marcus is planning to take on some of the kids who leave here and need a stepping stone into grown-up life.
Rod will be good at helping him do that.
Especially as an example of what’s possible, since he was where they are. ”
“You’re sure?”
“Jet will be good for Kreed too. He wants to learn, and he’s a tough kid. But also tender. Not that he’ll ever admit it out loud, but Kreed likes to nurture people. Tris didn’t need that anymore. Jet—”
“Needs more of it than I can give.”
“That isn’t a failing on your part, you know.”
Myles did know. In theory.
“I watched Jet all summer with Shelly. He thrives on having responsibility. He wasn’t looking after her out of obligation. He didn’t resent it, or her. He wanted to do it because it gave him a sense of purpose. A job will also do that.”
“I guess that’s why he flew through so much of his schooling so fast.”