deserve to ride your bike all over hell’s half acre getting soaked to the bone. If you end up with pneumonia, though, don’t come crying to me.”
In the time it took for the two of them to get that far into their argument, Brett had finally managed to fork in a few mouthfuls of dinner. He was halfway through a swallow when he realized that Gail was waiting for an answer.
“I, um…” A quick chug of milk; then he nodded. “I actually have a new set of classes starting Saturday. Sort of a hybrid class that covers new drivers and the safe driver’s course Ellie needs.”
“See?” Gail slapped her hand down on the table and grinned. “It’s all set, then.”
“But—” Ellie stopped. No point in going any further, since her mom had already left the table and Brett was busy attacking what was left on his plate in case she came back. Leaning across the table, Ellie lowered her voice. “You don’t have to do this. I can get a ride into the city—”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Damn Gail and her batlike hearing.
Brett kept shoveling his dinner in, leaving Ellie to answer. With a long sigh, she rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair.
“Because, Mom, if you must know, Poncherello here is the one who’s written most of my tickets.”
“Poncherello?” Gail’s frown quickly changed to surprise when she made the connection. “Oh, Ellie, honestly. Is that true, Brett?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.” It might have been nice if he’d pretended to think about it for a second before he answered.
“And,” Ellie continued, knowing full well it would do her no good. In for a penny, in for a pound. “He’s the one who revoked my license yesterday, so there’s that.”
Before Gail could ask for confirmation, Brett nodded. “I did that, too, yes.”
He gathered his dishes, slipped them into the dishwasher, then leaned back against the handle of the stove and nodded.
“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Palmer, but your daughter’s a menace on the road.”
“I am not,” Ellie cried, but they were both ignoring her.
“Do you think you can fix her?”
“Fix me? What am I, broken?”
He didn’t smile, didn’t even crinkle around the eyes, but his face relaxed, which was as close as he usually got to a smile. “If she’s willing to put in the work, I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”
Gail’s eyes lit up at him as though he’d just cured cancer. “No problem there. If there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s losing, so if you turn this into a challenge, she’ll clamp onto it like a tick on a hound, if for no other reason than to prove everyone else wrong.”
Oh, for…
“Hello!” Ellie waved her hand between them. “Standing right here, fully capable of organizing my own self.”
Not only did Gail push Ellie’s hand away, but she wrapped her long, slim fingers in a vise grip around both of Ellie’s wrists and held them out of the way.
“You’ll save her a seat, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He might not be smiling, but Poncherello was enjoying this way too much for Ellie’s liking.
“It’s not junior high, Mom. I don’t need him to save me a seat so I don’t get stuck sitting with the stoners.”
That slowed Gail for all of about two seconds. “Are there stoners in your class?”
“There better not be.” Then, before Gail could ask anything else, he added, “Thank you very much for dinner, but I should probably get going.”
“You’re very welcome,” Gail gushed, releasing her grip on Ellie so she could pat his arm. “Come back anytime.”
With a brief nod, he headed for the front door, and Gail literally shoved Ellie after him.
“Go get your bike,” she said.
Not even sure what had just happened, Ellie stumbled out after him. Was it really only an hour or so ago that she’d actually thanked God for her mother?
“Sorry about that,” she said, folding her arms around herself to ward off the evening chill. “But I did warn you to take the Scotch, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine—she’s great.” After lifting her bike out of the back of the truck, he started walking it around the side of the house.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I can…Wait a second.”
Of course he didn’t wait at all, just kept on walking, pushing the bike along beside him and making Ellie hustle to catch up.
“Did you—” She didn’t have to finish because of course he had—the proof was glinting off the back of the