Burn You Twice - Mary Burton Page 0,14

settle her simmering energy. “How did she die?”

“Cancer. Very aggressive. She was gone within five months.”

“How’s Gideon taking it?”

“There was no love lost between the two of them after the divorce. But Kyle took it hard.”

“Sucks to lose your mother. I feel for the kid,” Joan said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your mother.”

Joan glanced into her empty wineglass. “Not much to say. She left when I was two.”

“Didn’t she die when you were in high school?”

“Yes.”

“What about your dad?”

She sighed, realizing they had never talked much about her family because it was so damn depressing. “Dad drank a lot, but he did his best. When I was twelve, he fell asleep in his recliner with a lit cigarette in his hand. The place caught fire. We barely got out. He took off for good a couple of years later. I was raised by a friend of his who owns a bar.”

Ann studied her with a mixture of shock and pity. “I didn’t realize.”

“I never talked about my family because it’s a bleak story. I like to think the past doesn’t have any power over me.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No.”

An understanding smile twisted Ann’s lips as she set the chili and the remaining biscuits on the table, along with salt and pepper shakers and pepper jack cheese. Nate and Kyle came hurrying into the room and took their seats across from Joan. Ann sat at the head of the table. Once each had been served a healthy portion, Joan realized how hungry she was.

Joan took her first bite and almost moaned with pleasure. “This is amazing. I can’t remember the last time I ate real food.”

“They don’t have real food where you live?” Nate asked.

“They do. I’m just not good at finding it. I live on Chinese takeout, street pizza, and hot dogs.”

“Why?” Kyle asked.

“I’m busy. I don’t slow down much.”

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a homicide detective.” Fingers crossed she would remain one after the suspension.

Kyle’s interest was piqued, and she sensed she had gained a few points with him. “My dad’s a detective, too,” he said.

“Really?” In college, whenever Joan and Gideon had spoken of potential professions, he had always talked about working on his father’s ranch. Law enforcement had never crossed either of their minds. It was ironic that both Gideon and she were now cops.

“Yep, he’s one of the best in the state,” the boy said with pride.

That was not a surprise. Gideon always gave whatever he did 100 percent. “What grade are you two in?”

“Fifth,” Kyle said.

“But I’m also going to audit a class at the college,” Nate said.

“It’s an experiment we’re trying,” Ann said.

“That’s saying something for a ten-year-old,” Joan said. At ten, school and reading had been her safe place. Though she’d made A’s, she’d never had a desire to hurry through the grade levels.

“I want to skip middle school and high school and go to college full-time next year, but Mom won’t let me,” Nate said.

Ann sipped her wine. “There’s plenty of time for that. But you also need to be a kid.”

“I want to be a neurosurgeon,” Nate said.

Of course he did. “Was rocket scientist too tame?”

That coaxed a faint smile from the boys. “Humans are more interesting than machines. More complex.”

“I’ve often said the same.” Joan was tempted to refill her glass, but if she kept up this pace, tomorrow would be rough. She reached for her water glass instead. “Your mom wanted to be a medical doctor. She was accepted at several places.”

His brow furrowing, Nate looked at his mother as he processed what appeared to be a new piece of information. “Why didn’t you go?”

“Because I decided to stay here,” Ann said. “I like being close to Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Is it because you got pregnant with me?” Nate asked.

It did not take a math genius to backdate his conception to his parents’ wedding. “That was part of the reason. And for the record, I made the right choice.”

Nate’s frown deepened as Kyle asked, “May we build the fire now?”

“Finish your chili and then put your plates in the sink,” Ann said.

The boys quickly finished their meals and hurried their dishes into the kitchen. Seconds later, the back door opened and then slammed closed.

“You let them build the fire alone?” Joan asked.

“Yes. But I’m there when they light it.”

“In my neighborhood, fires are contained to grills,” Joan said. “And even then, I keep my distance.”

She glanced out the window and watched as the boys rushed