“Then it’s a good thing I prepared meat and potatoes tonight, I guess.”
Swallowing a bite of creamy scalloped potatoes, he murmured, “Oh, yeah.”
She seemed to relax a little in response to his enjoyment of the meal. “It’s nice to cook for someone who appreciates my efforts. Brad would rather order pizza or pick up burgers than eat home-cooked vegetables.”
“He’ll get over that.”
“I hope so. It’s a constant battle to get him to eat well.”
“Is your mother a good cook?”
“When she pays attention to what she’s doing, she’s an excellent cook. My mother’s a bit of a daydreamer. An artist. She’s been known to get distracted and put pepper in pudding or sugar on scrambled eggs. She even poured coffee on Brad’s cereal once.”
“She sounds…interesting.”
“Brad teases her. He asks her how we’ll be able to tell if she ever gets senile?”
Mac chuckled and took another bite of fresh asparagus. “You said she’s an artist?”
“Yes. She teaches art at the junior high school.”
It seemed like as good an opportunity as any to slip the McBrides into the conversation. “Trent mentioned that both his mother and sister-in-law are teachers. I suppose your mother knows them?”
“Everyone knows everyone in Honoria. Trent’s mother, Bobbie, has taught at Honoria Elementary for more than thirty years. She seems to have no intention of ever retiring. Trevor’s wife, Jamie, teaches speech and drama at the high school. She graduated from Honoria High, then spent almost ten years acting in New York before coming back to teach.”
“You never had an urge to teach, yourself?”
She shook her head. “I’ve always loved decorating. After I finished high school, I took a two-year interior-design course and some business classes at the local college. I worked in a wallpaper store for a couple of years, and when the owner decided to sell, my mother encouraged me to buy it. It was a little scary, making that investment, but Caleb McBride helped me with the paperwork and details, and so far, I’m holding my own.”
The McBrides again. As interested as he was in Sharon’s own story, Mac knew he should probably start directing the conversation the way he wanted it to go. “Caleb’s the attorney?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Yes. He’s Trent and Trevor’s father. They have a sister, too. Tara lives in Atlanta.”
“Trent mentioned that his parents are away on vacation.”
She nodded as she reached for her wineglass. “A cruise. It’s their first vacation in longer than anyone can remember. Caleb’s a dear, but a real workaholic—they practically had to carry him onto that ship. He had a minor heart attack a while back, and his family has been making him take better care of himself since.”
Mac took a sip of his own wine, then set his glass back on the table, keeping his tone offhand. “I get a little confused about the relationships around here. What exactly is the family connection between the McBrides and the people who built the old house I bought?”
“Didn’t Trent tell you?”
“We haven’t talked much about the history of the place, just the plans I have for it.”
“Well, the Garrett house was built by Trent’s great-great grandfather, I think. His grandmother—Caleb’s mother—was a Garrett and I believe the house was built by her grandfather.”
“So the McBrides and Garretts are longtime residents of Honoria.”
“Oh, yes. But there aren’t many Garretts left—a couple of distant cousins in Carrollton. And Caleb’s the only McBride left of his generation, as far as I know.”
“He was an only son?” Again, it was a question Mac already knew the answer to, but he wanted the conversation to unfold naturally. Casually.
Sharon seemed comfortable enough with the topic. “No, Caleb had two brothers, Josiah Jr. and Jonah. They’re both dead now.”
It had infuriated Mac when he’d first arrived in Honoria and learned that two of the older McBride brothers were dead. It had reduced his chances of getting revenge by two-thirds. His original plan had been to make someone suffer the humiliation and disgrace his mother had endured. To make it publicly known that a McBride had fathered and then abandoned a child, leaving a vulnerable woman alone to deal with her shame.
But it was hard to humiliate a dead man. And unless Caleb McBride was the culprit—which even at this early stage of Mac’s investigation seemed unlikely—it didn’t appear that Mac would find the retribution he’d craved for so long. But at least maybe he could finally find some answers.
“The McBrides don’t seem to have a particularly long life span.”