Page 5 of Home Again

“Does Daddy know you’re coming?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. No point in explaining himself again, it was a lost cause.

“How long is the old man expected to be at the state capitol?” Sebastian asked.

“He’s not due back for another two days. He’s meeting with some lobbyists from Washington D.C. They’re a big deal. Going to help him with his campaign. But it’s hush-hush, just between us family. Can’t tell no one, cause there’s some local fellas that’d be pretty pissed off if they found out that Daddy was planning on doing an end-run around them.”

Armond made a motion to zip his lips and throw away the key.

Jesus, am I back in elementary school?

Goddammit, he’d left a message with the old man that he’d be here today, but did he bother to be around? Fuck no. It was just another mind game, another way to show how important Lazar Durand was.

Sebastian turned around and started out the door.

“Where are you going?” Armand whined.

“The kitchen.”

“You’re not going to stay here, are you?”

“Yep.”

Sebastian wasn’t all that surprised that by the time he was opening the refrigerator, Armand was staggering into the kitchen. “What do you mean you’re staying? You don’t live here.”

“No I don’t, thank God.” Sebastian pulled out some fried chicken that Ophelia must have left, as well as some potato salad. Now, this was living. When he went to grab a beer he grimaced when he saw his only choice was Old Dixie Beer. That had always been the beer of choice in the Durand household. It was brewed in New Orleans, and Lazar loved anything that allowed him to cling to the old South. In his years away from home, Sebastian’s tastes had changed, preferring IPAs to lagers, so he grabbed Ophelia’s pitcher of lemonade.

“What, our beer isn’t good enough for you?” Armand slurred. “Daddy bought up all the old cases of Dixie Beer they had before they changed the name to some Yankee name.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Sebastian muttered. He went about fixing himself a plate of food. He wished Ophelia were here; thinking about her was the only thing about coming home worthwhile. He plunked his plate down on the kitchen table and used his foot to pull out a chair and sat down.

“We eat in the dining room,” Armand tried to tutor him.

Once again Sebastian ignored the man, concentrating instead on herbs and spices that exploded in his mouth as he chewed the chicken.

“Are you listening to me?”

Sebastian’s head shot up as wind and rain burst into the kitchen as the back door flew open and hit one of the cabinets. He was across the room, gun in his hand as the small figure shoved back the hood of her yellow rain slicker and took in the sight of the gun before turning to run back out the door.

Sebastian holstered his gun and caught her around her waist and hauled her back into the kitchen before she got more than one foot onto the back porch. She got in a good elbow to his ribs that made him grin.

Good for her.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said soothingly. Then he turned to his uncle who was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like a dumbass.

“Armand, shut the damned door,” Sebastian ordered.

Sebastian reared backwards as soon as he felt the woman in his arms get ready to headbutt him. “Whoa there, honey,” he chuckled. He moved her to the middle of the kitchen and set her on her feet. She took a step backwards and looked between Sebastian and Armand.

“Armand, he hasn’t hurt you has he?” Her voice was breathy, as if she had just run a marathon.

“Don’t mind my uncle, he’s only staggering because he’s drunk,” Sebastian said as he looked over the woman standing in front of him. Despite the yellow rain jacket, her hair was still plastered to her head. All he could really tell about her was that she was short and her eyes were as stormy gray as the clouds outside.

She lifted an eyebrow as her gaze shifted toward Armand. “I thought we agreed you were going to go easy on the brandy, Armand?” It was a gentle reprimand.

Why does this woman, who’s half the age of my drunken uncle, give a shit about him?

“Gee, it was just a little bit to help me sleep,” he whined.