“And so do you, Jake,” she added, with Robin beaming over her shoulder, and damn it if he didn’t blush.
“We’re eating light tonight, I hope you don’t mind,” she said airily and took Cole’s hand, leading him to a seat next to Mr. Lear. “It’s already so hot, isn’t it? Here, Cole, you sit here, sweetie.”
Robin slipped her arm through Jake’s and forced him to the table, too, seating him between Cole and Bonnie. She sat directly across from him, Rebecca next to her. Bonnie smiled happily at the group. “What a wonderful treat!”
“Get on with it, Bonnie,” Mr. Lear said gruffly.
Bonnie sighed, picked up a little bell, and tinkled it. Instantly, like genies out of a bottle, a man and a woman appeared, the man with a bottle of red wine, the woman with a bottle of white, and for Cole, a bottle of Coke. They moved gracefully from person to person, asking wine preference in a whisper as Bonnie launched into a tale, for Jake’s benefit, of how they had come to acquire Blue Cross Ranch many years ago. “We were so lucky to have found it. I always wanted to get back to this area,” she said, after telling Jake how they had stumbled on the property. “My father’s people come from around here.”
“El?” Jake asked, perking up a little. “I thought he was from Houston.”
Bonnie gasped with delight. “You know my father?”
“Mom,” Robin groaned. “How could he not? Grandma and Grandpa might as well live with me, they’re over so often.”
“Oh, Robbie, you know how they adore you.”
“Actually, El has been a great help to me,” Jake said, earning a frown from Robin and a giggle from Rebecca. “He’s been helping out with the renovation. In fact, he helped me take down a wall just the other day.”
“Elmer Stanton?” Mr. Lear asked, disbelieving.
“Really?” Bonnie asked, clearly delighted. “Oh, Jake, that’s so wonderful of you. You can’t imagine how much that means to my father—he’s so desperate to be of some help,” she gushed.
“Mom, stop. It’s embarrassing,” Robin protested. “Grandpa is not a charity case!”
“He comes closer to being a basket case,” Mr. Lear said.
“Dad!” Rebecca chastised him.
Bonnie glared at her husband, then turned a smile to Jake. “You’ll have to forgive my husband, Jake. He and my father have fought like two old yard dogs for thirty-five years. And Aaron’s a little cranky these days.”
“You’d be a little cranky, too, if you were drinking this shit,” Mr. Lear snapped.
Beside him, Cole giggled at the cuss word, which made old man Lear scowl at him, and in turn, made Cole giggle more.
“Just goes to show you what trouble Grandpa stirs up even when he’s not here,” Robin said and took a long, fortifying drink of wine.
Once the food was served, Mr. Lear lost interest in everything around him and concentrated on the eating. Jake noticed he took small bites, then would put his fork aside and close his eyes, chewing carefully. His expression was so pained that Jake had the image of knives sliding down the man’s esophagus. Speaking of pained—Jake spent most of his meal nudging Cole to sit up, to remove his bare hand from the food on his plate, to wipe his mouth (with a napkin!), to take smaller bites, and for God’s sake, say nothing about what Jake was fairly certain was a part of a pheasant, which apparently was what Bonnie considered light summer fare.
Bonnie did most of the talking, peppering her daughters with questions they both seemed terribly disinclined to answer (Have you talked to Bud, Rebecca? So, Robin, have you and Jake been to visit his parents?). By the end of the meal, it seemed to Jake that everyone was exhausted from trying to make conversation or avoid it.
When the genies reappeared to clear their dishes away, the family retired to the front room—a huge bay centered on a massive limestone fireplace, over which a longhorn steer’s head hung. The paneled walls were lined with bookshelves, a smattering of leather couches, and big overstuffed pillows were grouped around the cold hearth. A large, furry white rug lay atop polished wood floors. To one side there was a large oval table—a gaming table, judging by the green felt covering and the chessboard shoved off to one side.
Mr. Lear headed straight for a long, narrow cabinet and a silver tray with several crystal decanters filled with amber liquids. The women filed in behind Jake, choosing various seats. Cole stood at Jake’s hip, and as Jake moved, Cole moved, shadowing him. Jake chose a couch. Cole sat directly next to him.
“Anyone for a scotch?” Mr. Lear asked gruffly, unstopping one of the decanters.