A sharp look from both parents, then a few moments of silence while her mother cut her bright green broccoli into tiny florets. “You had your fun when you were younger, Eve, but you’re almost twenty-eight. It’s time to think about something different than nightlife and fun.”
Nothing new would come from this conversation, so she simply said, “I appreciate your concern, Mom,” and changed the subject. “Dad, I talked to Cesar a couple of nights ago. He’s having trouble with algebra, but he’s going to come in for a little tutoring. I think he just needs a review on the order of operations and some one-on-one practice to boost his confidence.”
“That’s a relief,” her father said, clearly as glad to change the subject as she was. “You’re doing a good thing tutoring him.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Eve said.
There was a moment of silence while everyone bowed to the inevitable and forced down a mouthful of eggplant. “You could open a flower shop,” her mother said.
“Two have gone under in the last five years,” Eve replied, clinging to her patience with her fingernails.
“I heard East High is having trouble filling the two open math positions.”
Students at Eve’s alma mater had a reputation for breaking first-year teachers within a month or two. The graduation rate was the lowest in the tri-county area. Resigned, she gave up on the eggplant, angled her knife and fork together across her plate, and said, “One, I don’t have a teaching certificate. Two, I need a major in math to teach it in this state. Three, I don’t want to teach high school in any state.”
“Then elementary school. You’d have summers off when babies came,” her mother said.
“Let it go, Mom,” she said, resigned. “Please.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, then Eve cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Only when they sat down to frozen yogurt topped with strawberries did her mother circle back to Door Number One. “Are you seeing anyone?” she said brightly.
Just a tall, mysterious, newly hired bartender, and for the most part, in her dreams. “Not really,” she equivocated. “No one serious anyway.”
“Evie, dear, you don’t really have time…”
The screen door squeaked, then the front door opened. “Hello?” Caleb called.
Thank God and all his archangels. “In here,” Eve said as she jumped to her feet. “Have you eaten?” Normally she’d make Caleb get his own food, but escape, if only to the kitchen, seemed prudent at the moment. Her neck felt as tight as Chad’s had in the Jeep.
Her brother skirted the dining room and came straight into the kitchen. Like her, Caleb had inherited their father’s wavy black hair and green eyes, and he’d kept the muscular, rangy build from his college basketball days. “Hey, sis. Quinn and I split a pizza. What’s for dessert?”
“Frozen yogurt and crushed strawberries.”
He lifted his brows, then looked at the barely touched pan of eggplant congealing in the red sauce. “What the hell is that?” he asked incredulously.
“Language, Caleb!” Her mother’s voice came from the dining room.
Eve lowered her voice. “Dad’s cholesterol is still too high. Mom’s gone vegetarian.”
A longer look from her brother while she scooped frozen yogurt and spooned mashed strawberries into the bowl, then he said, “Based on the way you’re attacking that tub of fake ice cream I’d say they had you roasted.”
She slid him a glance. “Dad talked to Lee McCullough at Lancaster Life about a job for me.”
“And?”
“And I don’t want to develop communication strategies for a mutual insurance company,” she said as she snapped the top on the container of strawberries.
Her mother’s lowered voice filtered through the pass-through. “… should be watching out for Cesar, not dragging him into … admire her initiative, but … isn’t going anywhere.”
Caleb gave her a wry smile, then opened the fridge for her and said, “I’ve got your back, sister dear,” then swung through the door to the dining room. Eve put the yogurt back in the freezer, then followed him. Her brother waited until she had a spoonful of strawberries in her mouth, then said, “So, Mom, who’s pregnant?”
Eve glared at him, but the look slid right past their mother, who’d brightened right up. “Melissa Reyes just had her baby boy, and Trina Martin is due any day now. It’s her first. Poor thing, she’s so uncomfortable in this heat.”
“That’s wonderful,” Caleb said, smiling right at her. “They must be so happy. Children are such a blessing, and the first one’s really a special experience for the parents.”
Goddammit, Caleb.
She made her escape an hour later but waited beside her brother’s Mercedes until Caleb emerged, a plastic container of red sauce and purple goop in one hand.