she asked when he opened her fridge door and pulled out the carton of eggs.
“I’m making her a healthy breakfast. It wouldn’t hurt you to eat better, too,” he said as she poured Cap’n Crunch into the bowl and added milk. “Set a good example for her.”
Maddie spooned up a nice-sized bite of the sweet cereal. His teeth hurt just thinking about all the sugar in it. “I believe in all things in moderation,” she said, with a lofty wave of the spoon. “Including healthy eating.”
And he believed actions spoke louder than words.
He grabbed the bowl as she was going in for another bite.
She leaped off the stool, held the spoon out like a weapon. “Hey—”
“It’s junk.” He dumped the cereal into the sink. Then, knowing her as he did, swiped the box before she could pour another bowl. “Junk in, junk out.”
He dumped the contents into the garbage.
She squeaked, like a chew toy being stepped on. “I just opened that yesterday. Do you know how much a box of empty calories costs? And what does that even mean? Junk in, junk out?”
“It means you are what you eat.”
“What are you, some sort of professional cliché spouter? And for the record, let me state that I wouldn’t mind being a pirate.”
“Mrs. Cap’n Crunch?”
“Please,” she said with a sniff. “I have higher standards. More like Mrs. Jack Sparrow.” Joining him at the sink, she glared down at the mess. “You are so lucky I have a garbage disposal or you’d be paying a plumber to clean out my pipes.”
He hadn’t even considered that. He scratched the back of his neck. “Is that a euphemism?”
Her lips twitched. “No. But it’s not a bad one.”
Then she smiled. At him. A real smile, one with warmth and humor.
It about knocked him on his ass.
As if realizing she was sharing a joke with him, that they stood so close, their arms brushing, she stiffened and slid to the side. “Well, I guess since you tossed my breakfast down the drain, you can just double whatever it is you’re making for Bree.”
“No problem.”
He pulled some cold-cut ham and a block of cheddar from the fridge, along with a small package of mushrooms and a tomato.
“Bree doesn’t like mushrooms,” Maddie said, taking her coffee with her back to the bar.
“But you do.” He remembered her ordering them on pizza when they’d been together. “Right?”
“Right,” she said, looking as if she’d like to deny it just on principle. She sipped her coffee. Tapped her fingers against the mug. “Bree said Fay wasn’t at dinner last night.”
He washed and dried his hands. “She wasn’t feeling well.”
“Seems to be a lot of that going around at your parents’ place,” Maddie said drily. She sighed. “I think she needs to talk to someone.”
“She will,” he said, slicing mushrooms. “When she’s ready.”
“I don’t mean one of us. I mean a doctor.”
He paused, the knife hovering over the last mushroom. “Like a shrink?”
“A psychiatrist, yes.”
“No.”
Hell no.
“Why not?”
Because his sister wasn’t crazy. She didn’t need some stranger pumping her full of prescriptions to get through this. She needed Neil.
“She can get more involved in the bed-and-breakfast. Help pick out paint colors and furniture, plan the menus, get a computer system up and running.” He cracked an egg on the side of the bowl. “She just needs something to do, something that gives her a sense of purpose.”
“She has two sons who give her plenty to do. And believe me, being a mother comes with its own sense of purpose.”
Not for everyone. It hadn’t been enough for Annie. “Some women prefer to work, to have something outside of motherhood.”
The look Maddie sent him could have frozen a bonfire. Good thing he was used to the cold. “Oh, pretty please, tell me more about being a mother. A working mother. Because obviously, I would know nothing about that.”
She didn’t have to work. The support he sent for Bree was more than enough for both of them to live on. And he wasn’t so stupid that he’d actually point that out. “Having a job brings with it a sense of satisfaction. Of independence.”
That’s what Fay needed most of all, he thought, adding three more eggs to the bowl. The means to be able to take care of herself and the boys. To learn how to rely on herself and put her own wants and needs first instead of pinning all her hopes, dreams and happiness on someone else.
Maddie leaned forward, helped herself to a mushroom slice. “I