Page 110 of Mr. B

“She doesn’t. Never did. I didn’t give her details back then. All she knows is that we broke up, and I was miserable for a while.”

“Well, I’m very anxious to meet the woman who raised such good sons.”

They went in the front door, and Wes called out, “Mom!”

Allie came out of the kitchen with Kai in her arms. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“It’s a long, ugly story, Mom. I really don’t want to get into it right now.” Wes smiled at Kai when he held out his arms. Wes set his cane aside and took the boy from Allie. “Hey there, little man.”

Allie turned to Cassandra. “Hi. I’m Allie.”

Wes glanced at them. “Oh, right. This is Cassandra.”

After a slight hesitation, Allie offered her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” Cassandra put a hand on Kai’s back. “Who is this handsome boy?”

Kai kicked his feet, and Wes put him down. “This is Kai, Abe’s son.”

Kai ran to a basket of toys and started digging through it, and Allie cocked her head at Wes. “Where are your crutches?”

“I’ve graduated to a cane.”

“Hmm. I still say you should’ve gone to the doctor.”

“We were hoping to raid your refrigerator.”

“Nonsense. I’ll make you something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Give me about thirty minutes. Your father is in the garage. Go say hi to him.”

“Should I tell him to come in for lunch?”

“We stopped to see your brothers and have some pizza while we were in town. Poor Kai didn’t want to leave Abe and Maggie.”

Cassandra watched Kai for a moment. “He is so cute.”

“Other than the hair, he looks just like Abe at that age.” She pointed at Wes. “Now, he had the curly hair. Not blond, but beautiful curly hair.”

Wes scowled. “We’re going to go say hi to Dad.”

They left the house, and Cassandra took his hand. “You still have beautiful hair.”

“I suppose any hair that is still on my head is beautiful at this stage of my life.”

Cassandra stopped walking. “Would you stop acting like you’re ancient?”

“Sorry.”

“Because if you’re ancient, I am too.”

He put his arm around her. “You’ll never be ancient. Even when you’re eighty.”

“You think I’ll be a well-preserved octogenarian?”

“Absolutely.”