thing. I bought and wrapped the spoon she claimed I stole and mended that fence.” She shoots Mrs. Rourke a dark look. “It was met with less than stellar enthusiasm.” She pats her hair. “Enough said.”
“You complimented the pattern!” Mrs. Rourke exclaims. “I know you know which spoon I’m talking about—”
“Mom,” Jack says loudly.
“What?”
“It was me.”
Her brows knit together. “What was you?”
He sighs. “I stole the serving spoon.”
Mrs. Rourke shakes her head. “Jack, that was so long ago you couldn’t have been more than—”
“Five,” he says.
Mrs. Bianchi smiles smugly. “I’m not surprised at all. I told you I wasn’t a thief.”
Mrs. Rourke tilts her head, still confused, as she stares at Jack. “So you’re saying when you were five years old, you stole my serving spoon from the potluck at the Bianchis’? That was a big spoon. How come I never saw you with it?”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “I hid it in a box in the storage area of their basement. I thought it was funny watching everyone wonder where it was. How was I to know it would lead to decades of war between you two?”
His wife, Riley, pipes up. “He was too chicken to speak up after all that time. Keep in mind he was thinking with an immature five-year-old brain.”
Mrs. Rourke scowls. “And secretly howling with laughter for years. Oh, Jack.” She turns to Mrs. Bianchi. “I had no idea. I don’t even know what to say. All this time—”
Mrs. Bianchi gives her shoulder a squeeze. “No need to say anything. We’re family now.” She holds out her hand, and Mrs. Rourke takes it. “Now let’s go get your serving spoon back.” She glances at Jack. “Come on, you dig it out, you trickster. And then you can clean out my whole storage area next weekend to make it up to me.”
“Mine too,” Mrs. Rourke says.
Jack’s shoulders slump, but then he brightens. “I can’t. I’ve got a baby on the way. Riley needs me.”
Riley smiles widely. “We’ve got a few weeks, babe. I can spare you.”
Jack jabs a finger at her before accepting his fate and following the two women out the front door.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, Garrett quips, “Classic Jack,” and everyone laughs.
A short while later, Mrs. Rourke returns, triumphantly holding the serving spoon in the air.
“It’s a beautiful Gaelic pattern,” Mrs. Bianchi says.
Mrs. Rourke washes it and puts it in the drawer, closing it with a sigh. She turns to us. “Time for big-sister cake!”
18
Garrett
I’m spent, lying in Harper’s bed, trying to catch my breath. She threw herself at me as soon as we got back to her place, and now in the happy aftermath, I’m feeling pretty good about how things are going between us. She seemed to find my family amusing, which is better than thinking they’re nuts. Since she seemed comfortable, we stayed late, hanging with everyone. I think my family approves, which is important in a family like mine since we spend so much time together at work and just about any occasion.
And Dylan took me aside to offer me a promotion to crew chief with a salary bump too. He said it was long overdue, and he’d been hoping to pull Jack to a project manager position and me up sooner, but they just couldn’t make the numbers work before. It means a lot to me. I should’ve spoken up about feeling passed over, but, once I had more experience, I kept telling myself it was because they needed someone like me they could count on in crew to do the job right. It seems my big brother was looking out for me like always. I accepted the position, of course. Acting is still a side gig. But if it comes down to accepting a major acting role or sticking by my family, it’ll be hard for me to choose. My loyalty to my family runs deep and, for once, I know they really need me.
Harper stirs by my side. Sweet Harper. Maybe it’s a good time to tell her how much I care about her.
I roll to my side and stroke her hair back from her face. “Harp, I just wanted to tell—”
She jackknifes upright and slaps a hand over her mouth.
“Harp?”
She races to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The distinct sounds of retching follow. My own stomach churns in sympathy.
I give her a few minutes before getting out of bed, pulling on my boxer briefs, and knocking on the