A Beautiful Funeral (The Maddox Brothers #5) - Jamie McGuire Page 0,84

Colorado and Taylor and Tyler’s new jobs at State Farm Insurance. Shepley couldn’t resist making a joke about the State Farm khakis commercial. Ellie reminisced about working for the MountainEar magazine in Estes, and Falyn and the kids had just unpacked the last box back at home with Taylor.

The oven door creaked as Shepley opened it to pull out the meatloaf pan, I mashed the potatoes, and Ellie and Falyn set up the card table for the kids. Dining chairs scraped against the tile as the adults sat down at the dining table to eat.

Jim looked around. “Hasn’t Trenton gotten home yet? Is Travis still out of town?”

I touched his arm. “We texted Trent. I’m pretty sure Travis is flying home today.”

Jim shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

Jack patted his brother’s back. “They’re fine, Jim.”

I tried not to grimace. Thomas’s death had taken a toll on Jim. His clothes were hanging off him, purple half-moons hung under his tired eyes, and he looked more frail than ever. He was constantly asking about the boys, calling each one every day to check on them if they didn’t call him first. Most of them already knew to call during their lunch break to set his mind at ease.

Taylor checked his phone, chewing. “He texted back. He’s at home. He can’t make dinner tonight.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. That wasn’t like Trenton. He was at Jim’s for dinner every night, even before the funeral.

Agent Wren approached the table.

“Wren,” Tyler said between bites. “Have a seat. Have some meatloaf; it’s my mom’s recipe. Best damn meatloaf you’ve ever had, I promise you that.”

“I don’t know why we’re cooking,” Falyn said. “There are still stacks of casseroles in the freezer.”

“Because your dad wanted Diane’s meatloaf,” Shepley said. “And what Jim wants, Jim gets.”

Jim managed a smile, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Camille had bought him suspenders a few days before, and although Jim wasn’t a fan, I thought he looked adorable.

Agent Wren touched his earpiece. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” I asked. “Who is that?”

Agent Wren ignored me, returning to his post in the living room. I glared at him, far beyond irritated with the secrecy. What else didn’t we know? I glanced at my husband. “Why is he still here?”

“Who? Wren?” Shepley asked.

“What was that about? Are we”—I glanced back at the kids and then leaned in—“still in danger? Have we heard an update on where Travis is with the Carlisi case?”

Jim shook his head, picking at his plate.

“Not hungry?” Deana asked.

“It’s very good,” Jim said, looking apologetic. “I feel full pretty fast these days. No appetite, I suppose.”

“Just try,” Deana said. “It’s Diane’s,” she lilted. “God, I miss her. I think she could’ve cheered you up.”

“She could’ve,” Jim said with a short chuckle. His smile faded. “She’s with Tommy, now.”

We finished dinner, and I served dessert—just a simple yellow sheet cake with chocolate frosting. The kids made the few pieces that were left disappear.

The front door swung open. “Hi, Maddoxes!” Olive said, appearing at the mouth of the hallway with her bright smile. She had a new bronze tan from her trip, making her teeth appear whiter and her freckles blend in. Her hair was even blonder than before, and Falyn beamed the moment she set eyes on her.

“Olive!” Falyn said, rushing over to hug her tight. She held her out at arm’s length. “Holy crap, you look amazing. How was vacation?”

“It was good. Sort of sad. Mom acts like it’s our last one. I keep telling her we’ll have plenty, but she’s a wreck.” Olive pulled at the frayed edges of her shorts. She was wearing a white tank top and a flowing, short-sleeved kimono-esque top. We marveled at what a beautiful young woman she’d grown into. Woe to boys at Eastern who paid any attention to her—the Maddoxes would eat them for lunch. She’d already given up bringing home any boys to Trenton in high school. He was just too scary for any teenage boy to handle.

The twins and their wives had just finished cleaning off the table, and Jessica, James, and Ezra were nearly finished loading the dishwasher when everyone grew silent. The younger kids were just bugging us to play outside in the sprinkler when Wren began looking out the window and speaking in hushed tones into his earpiece.

“Keep the kids inside for now,” Wren said to Shepley.

I helped him herd the kids into the kitchen, away from any window facing the street.

“Has Trenton changed his mind?” Taylor asked, frowning.