“Keep it.” Ean shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but Megan and I are doing well. You’re the one who’s been taking care of the house.”
“But—”
“Or, if you can’t think of anything better to do with it, invest it for your grandchild’s law school education.” Ean rose from the table, taking his mug with him. He paused beside Doreen, kissed the top of her head, and collected her mug as well. He carried both to the sink.
“Don’t tease me about grandchildren.” Doreen picked up his cue to lighten the mood. She turned on her chair to keep Ean in sight.
“Spoilsport.” Ean leaned his hips against the kitchen counter.
Doreen tossed him a grin. “Thank you for understanding our decision to sell the house.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t an easy one.” Ean shoved his hands into the front pockets of his tan Dockers.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“There are a lot of memories in this house.”
Doreen nodded in the general direction of the front door. “This is the house you grew up in. Your father and I carried you through that door.”
Ean frowned. “You both did?”
“Yes, I carried you through first. Then passed you back to your father and he carried you through.” She blushed as Ean’s eyebrows rose. “Wait until you have my first grandchild—then you’ll understand.”
“Maybe.” Ean returned to the kitchen table. “Some of my favorite memories are of Dad and me helping
you with the Thanksgiving baking.”
Doreen grinned as the images moved across her mind. “The Fever Family Thanksgiving Bake-offs.”
The night before Thanksgiving, they’d gather in the kitchen. Christmas music would blare from the speakers so loudly, they had to shout to hear each other. They’d dance around the kitchen. Paul and Ean would give her ingredients while she mixed the batters. Their antics were so distracting that the baking actually took longer. But it had been worth it.
“You and Alonzo will create memories in your new home.” Ean stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.
“That’s the plan.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Ean knew her too well.
“Something has been bothering Alonzo for months, but he won’t tell me what it is. I’ve asked him several times. He always says he’s tired. I’m at my wit’s end.”
“Do you want me to ask him?”
“No, thank you.” Doreen shook her head. “We need to work out our problems ourselves. I just wish I knew what his was.”
“When did you first notice something was wrong?”
Doreen set her right elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her palm. “Shortly after we started planning our wedding.”
“I thought he was in a rush to get married.”
“He says he still is.”
“But you don’t believe him.” Ean sounded like the lawyer he was.
Doreen shrugged off her discomfort. “I had to threaten him with postponing the wedding to get him to order a tux.”
“It’s a good sign that he chose to order the tux rather than postpone the wedding.”
“Is it?” Doreen met his gaze.