Page 45 of Restored By You

“And Tyler’s gonna help me practice ‘cause he knows ninja stuff.” Parker looks up the table with adoration for the usually surly teen. “Right, Tyler?”

Tyler, caught off guard, simply says, “I mean, yeah, sure, dude.”

“Halloween is next Saturday,” Lily says, wiping frosting off Parker’s chin he immediately re-applies with another oversized bite. “The town does the whole Main Street thing. Trick-or-treating at all the shops, a mini hay maze for the kids by the town hall, cider, a few vendors and all that.”

“You two should come,” Cassidy says to Shea. “Gage is gonna be a little pudgy football.” She rolls her eyes when Butch grins from ear to ear at this year’s family costume choice.

“Olivia’s a strawberry this year,” Maci adds, gazing adoringly at her daughter nestled in Duke’s arms. “The girl loves her strawberries.”

Shea laughs and says something about how Tyler’s already ‘too cool’ for costumes, and for a second, the whole table is arguing happily about whether fifteen is too old to trick-or-treat. Which, according to Levi, who wore a full inflatable T-rex suit last year, it is not too old.

Although, for him, it probably should be.

“Well, now, if you’re both here for Halloween,” Ma says, “then you’ll still be here for Thanksgiving, won’t you?”

The table doesn’t go quiet, but I feel Shea go still beside me. “Um, maybe,” she says cautiously. “My father and…stepmom should be back by then, but, uh, we’ll see.”

Tyler’s excited demeanor from a second ago deflates faster than Levi’s T-rex costume.

“But, you know, we have the Hargrove place to work on, so we may be here for a while,” she quickly adds, sending Tyler a wink. “And I need my film crew slash director with me, otherwise the whole project is done for.”

The faintest smile returns to her stepbrother’s face and I file the moment away.

“Well, you’re both welcome, and that’s the end of it,” Ma declares. “Nobody spends a holiday in a hotel while I’ve got a table this size. Where are you staying, anyhow? That little inn off Main?”

“Oh, no.” Shea shifts. “We’re up at the resort, actually. My father knows the—he got us a suite for a few months.”

Pop whistles low. “Fancy.”

Shea tries to laugh it off, waving her fork. “Trust me, it’s a bargain compared to LA.”

The table moves on, Pop’s already arguing with Duke about somebody’s truck, and I catch the flush riding high on Shea’s cheeks, she reached for that joke a half-second too fast. I make a note to tell her later that nobody at this table gives a damn how much money she has or hasn’t. It doesn’t change a thing for me, but my mother’s gone quiet.

She’s still smiling, but her eyes have landed on Shea with a new kind of attention. “Winton,” Ma says. “That’s your family name, sweetheart?”

Shea nods. “Yes, ma’am. It is.”

“Hm.” My mother’s smile doesn’t waver. She reaches over and pats Shea’s hand once. I brace for her next comment, knowing how she felt about the resort when it was built over thirty years ago, and I know how she feels about the owner of said resort. And it ain’t anything kind. “Pretty name,” is all she says, letting it go as she calls for Butch to help her start the coffee.

The rest of the evening moves on in a flurry of gag gifts and three new packages of socks to line my dresser drawer. By the time we’re pulling on coats at the door, Ma’s loaded us down with two bags of Tupperware containing leftover corn casserole, chocolate cake, and a baggie of rolls.

Tyler hugs my mother goodbye and Shea says her goodbyes to Callie and the girls with plans about Halloween flying around. My mother touches my elbow. “Rhett. Help me grab that other cake tin from the pantry, would you?”

My brow furrows. I follow her down the hall, out of earshot of everyone, and she turns to face me in the little pantry doorway. My mother peers up at me with a crease between her brows and I have a mere second to brace for what the problem is. “She’s lovely,” she says. “I mean that. And that boy, she’s doing a good thing there.”

“But,” I say, because I hear it coming.

She folds the dish towel in her hands, once, twice. “The Winton Resort, Rhett.”

“What about it?”

“You know what about it.” Her voice drops, careful with something I don’t hear from my mother often. Worry. “The same resort my son just signed the biggest contract of his career to renovate.”

“Ma. It’s not a big deal.”

“Rhett Montgomery. You are the most careful man I’ve ever raised. You’ve built your whole name in this town on being the one folks can trust, the one who does it right, no shortcuts, no funny business.” She reaches up to pat my chest. “You take a job that size, then take up with his daughter under his roof, and you don’t think this town will have something to say about how you landed it?”

My jaw tightens. “That’s not what this is.”