Chapter 2

Between the traffic and his piece of shit car taking its sweet time starting, it took about half an hour to do the ten minute drive to his parents’ house.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late. There was a lot of traffic.” Which was as much of the truth as he was going to admit to. If he ever said it was the piece of shit’s fault, she’d want to know why he’d had to move so far away, or even worse, why he wasn’t saving up for a new car. And if he told her it was because between rent and insurance—he’d never be able to mention the gasoline needed for the drives to meet someone from Grindr for a hookup—he didn’t bring home enough to save squat, she’d want to know why his job wasn’t paying more. It was bad enough Pop never let him forget he wasn’t much of a tin knocker. The last thing he needed was Mom telling him the same thing. He kissed her cheek and handed the fluff salad to Meg, the oldest of his four sisters, who’d been taking down the plates and glasses. “Hi, Meg.”

“Hello, big brother.” She put the salad in the fridge. “I’ll set the table, Mom.” Meg was smart. She knew when to get out of Dodge.

“I’m surprised there was so much traffic in the middle of the week.”

“I know. There was probably an accident on the interstate and everyone was rerouted to 23.” That was the main road that led from his apartment to the house he’d grown up in. It ran parallel to the interstate, and accidents were usually the cause of super-heavy traffic through town.

“Probably.” She knew traffic backing up happened more frequently than anyone in their little town expected. Thanks to the two wealthiest families in town and their plans for it, Laurel Hill was growing faster than the original inhabitants liked.

On the other hand, the Dupuises hadn’t done much before the James family decided to step in; Laurel Hill had been going downhill fast, so maybe they shouldn’t complain.

“Hello, Vic.” Laurie stooped to ruffle the ears of his sister Jo’s collie. The dog had originally been a birthday gift for him when he’d turned eighteen, but the tri-colored puppy had his own ideas, and before the day was over, Laurie had to concede he was Jo’s.

“That dog should not be in here,” Mom said. She’d been saying that for the past seven years, but Vic, short for Invictus, always found a way to be there. He licked Laurie’s hand and plopped down under the table in the breakfast nook. Mom brushed aside the dog’s presence and studied the clothes her only son wore, then nodded in satisfaction. “You look good in that outfit.” He was about to blow out a relieved sigh that he’d escaped an inquisition, when she continued. “When are you bringing home a nice girl?”

Yep, just like clockwork. “When I find one, Mom.”

“What happened to Michelle? She was—”

“I know, such a nice girl.” Actually, Michelle was fictitious. Laurie had pulled the name out of thin air and said he was seeing her when he was actually dating Lync.

Mom swatted the back of his head. “Well, that’s how you made her sound. You didn’t answer me. What happened to her?”

“It didn’t work out.” He’d told her that when she’d questioned his sad look after Lync had broken up with him.

“What did you do to chase her away?” She stood with her hands on her hips, a ladle in her fist.

He eyed it cautiously. She’d been known to chase after him and his siblings with it when they were younger. “Nothing. I swear.”

“If you don’t get a girlfriend soon, people are going to think you’re gay.”

He turned first hot, then cold. If she ever realized he was gay, he had no doubt she’d flat-out disown him.

“Mom—”

“I was talking with Mrs. Richards.” The woman lived across the street, and she and Mom had been friends for ages.

“Uh…yeah?” he said cautiously. This wasn’t going to be good. Whenever Mom got together with Mrs. Richards, things got strange. They’d tried to set up Mrs. Richards’s son Keith with Meg, but she’d been dating someone she worked with, and Jo got stuck with the jock, which had seriously pissed her off.

“We think it would be nice if you asked Louise to go dancing Saturday night.” Mom must have gotten the notion that the only way Laurie would wind up with a girlfriend was if she went looking for one for him.”

“Mom—”

“Don’t whine. She’s expecting you at eight.”

Laurie did sigh this time. It didn’t pay to argue with his mother. He wouldn’t win. He supposed he should be grateful she’d found something about him to care about.