Chapter 67

This time she cupped my cheek. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart,” she said again and sat down.

“Thank you.” I couldn’t help the gruffness in my voice. I was gratified this strong woman had accepted me in her son’s life.

Steve pulled out a chair for his wife, and once Lilly sat, we took our seats.

Waiters brought out platters of appetizers. Quinn had chosen baked Brie, Roma tomato bruschetta, Asian beef rolls, and crab cake bites with fruit salsa. The waiters filled water glasses, suggested wines, and took our orders.

“Bring me an unopened bottle of club soda,” I murmured to the waiter at my elbow.

“Yes, sir.”

“No wine, Mark?” Uncle Steve asked.

“You knew my mother.”

He looked away and picked up the plate holding the baked Brie.