Layla - Page 38

He looked at me apologetically and faced his first mistake instead of chasing after his second. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?” I asked quietly. “I mean, you’re all probably thinking it, right?”

I felt Mark grab my hand under the table and give it a squeeze. Imagine that, the men in my family had made my ‘enemy’ my ally.

None of the other men could meet my eye, telling me the answer without even vocalizing it. Dick shit fuckers!

Mom looked fit to burst.

“Right, you’re going to get your butts out of those chairs and clean up this mess. After it, you’ll do the dishes and clean the kitchen.” As they all stood up obediently, Mom clapped her hands once. “I wasn’t finished, and you will listen to me.”

It had to be said, I’d seen my mom pissed on quite a few occasions, but never as pissed as this.

“Don’t think I’m letting you off that easily. Before you do any of that, you’re going to look Mark and Layla in the eye, and you’re going to apologize. She isn’t bound by any law to notify you of her decisions. Your sister’s in charge of her own life, and like your grandmother said, she’s more mature than any of you. Mark’s a great guy, and you should be on your knees thanking everything possible that she’s with him.”

Grams stood back and waved toward the kitchen. “You may clean up the table and the kitchen while we have peach cobbler and homemade ice cream.”

Usually that’d get a groan and a shit ton of protests, but this time, all of them stayed quiet aside from some mumbled apologies as they got up and began loading up all the dirty dishes. My dad and Gramps sat back with their arms folded across their chests, watching as my brothers gathered as much as they could.

“Uh, Jack?” Mom called at the same time Grams called out Gramps’ name.

Both men turned and raised their eyebrows at their wives.

Smiling sweetly at him, Grams gestured to his plate. “Up you get and do some dishes.”

“What? Why? I didn’t say it. I happen to like Layla’s hair even though it’s purple,” he spluttered.

“Jack, you know where the stuff to clean the kitchen is,” Mom told him. “And make sure you use the right cleaner on the stove and the area behind it on the wall. They look nice in theory, but it’s easy for the brushed steel to look streaky.

“I think we should redo the kitchen this year, maybe go for one of those granite or sealed cement counters and backsplashes. And I hear that ranges are back in fashion, and they come with an enamel surface that doesn’t require so much attention to streaks when you’re cleaning them.” She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to say no.

Look, I could be offended that she was basically using me to get a new kitchen out of him, but I wasn’t. Hell no, I was taking notes in case I was ever in a situation like this in the future.

Getting up, he collected his plate and stacked some other dishes on top of it. “Sounds like a great idea, Colette.”

“I thought you’d say that. Could you also bring out one of the cobblers and the ice cream from the freezer? We’ll drop the others off at Mark’s work tomorrow and give them a special treat.”

“Oh yes,” Grams said enthusiastically. “Especially after all of their hard work at Mark’s house tonight. Maybe we should drop them off to the Palmerstown station as well, given that it’s their crime scene guys who are doing all of the swabbings.”

I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out and grabbing Mark’s face, turning it toward me so I could check him for injuries. “What’s that now? What happened?”

The last I’d allowed myself to hear about his living arrangements, he was renting a small apartment in one of the older blocks in town. Had there been an accident or something?

Grams moved so that she was in the seat Tom had previously been in, directly opposite Mark.

“Didn’t you hear or see all the cars and vans?” When I shook my head, her eyes widened. “Well, your brothers and Mark’s went over to his with that chemical that glows in the dark, and when they sprayed it around the place, it lit up like a Christmas tree.”

I was silent for a moment, trying to make it make sense in my brain, but that damn headache came back with a vengeance.

Rubbing my forehead, I held my other hand up. “Wait, what?”

Taking her previous seat at the table, Mom took the bowls that Dad was now holding out to her. Wisely, he stayed silent and skulked back to the kitchen without saying a word.

“Your grandmother’s right. Apparently, Tom has it all on video.”

Mark finally said something. “He’s not allowed to share it right now while they’re investigating.”

I felt like the lone duck floating on the water with nine hunters loading their weapons around him. “Investigating what? Why was Tom there?”

Tags: Mary B. Moore Romance
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