Page 57 of Smoke Screen
“Not my fault you produced a good-looking kid.” He set the containers on the island and grinned at Maddy. “I was fighting the girls off with a stick. A stick, I tell you.”
“Whatever,” Maddy said.
Lynette cracked up. “Good looking and so humble.”
Oh, Maddy liked Lynette Blackwell. Not that it mattered when it should be Lynette sizing Maddy up. But Lynette seemed to have an easy confidence Maddy wished for. “My mom didn’t have all boys, but she had five, too. There’s no job harder than a single parent.”
“Are your parents divorced?”
Maddy wished. “No, ma’am. Dad died when I was twelve. Car accident.”
Across the island, Johona tsk-tsked. “Dear girl, I’m so sorry.”
Lynette shook her head. “Between the two of us, we have ten kids without a daddy. My husband died when Phin was a junior in high school.”
A smacking sound came from behind Maddy. Phin was setting one of the ceramic containers in the microwave. “Let’s get this food going,” he said, clearly done with the conversation about their dead fathers.
“Maddy,” Lynette pointed to a stool, “you sit right there and I’ll reheat this. Phin makes everything too hot. Phin, get the girl something to drink.”
“I can get it,” Maddy said.
Lynette snapped her fingers and pointed again. “Nope. You’re a guest here. Phin can make himself useful. We have beer, wine, soft drinks, sweet tea.”
“Water is fine. Thank you.”
A minute later, Phin set a bottle and glass in front of her, then went to a small refrigerator near what looked like a pantry and retrieved a bottle of beer.
Lynette pointed at the bottle. “Make sure you get a glass. I don’t want that bottle on my counter.”
“On it.”
The woman ran a tight ship. Having grown up in a single-parent home with five kids, Maddy understood chaos would reign supreme without discipline.
The microwave dinged and Lynette retrieved the container, placing it in front of them and handing over a couple of dishes and silverware before putting the next bowl into the microwave.
“I have cornbread, too.”
“Oh, my mama. You’re the bomb.”
Lynette laughed, then popped the top on another bowl sitting on the counter behind her before setting it in front of Maddy.
“Both of you, eat up.” She grabbed a crumpled dishtowel sitting next to the sink and folded it, lining up the edges before hanging it on a drawer handle. She eyed it, moved it a hair to the right, then turned back to them. “Maddy, I hate to be rude, but I have a few things to do yet tonight and I’m straight running on fumes. I’ll leave you two. Phin, dishes in the dishwasher, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes,” Maddy said, “We’ll be sure to clean up. Thank you again.”
Just then, Zeke strolled into the kitchen crossing paths with Lynette, who announced she’d be in her office and then going to bed.
Zeke moved to where Lynette had been standing and snatched a piece of cornbread and a napkin from the holder in front of Maddy. “My God, I love her cornbread. You guys all set in here?”
Phin held up his fork. “Just getting to it. Give us a few to eat.”
Zeke nodded. “Find me when you’re done.” He swung his gaze to his grandmother. “Grams, what kind of trouble are you into?”
“Well, Phin won’t let me drive his car, so I suppose none.”
“Yeah,” Phin said, over a mouthful of food. “That’s a hard no.”
