he could work during the week and come home on the weekends.”
Sounded like marriage trouble to Sasha’s ears. “Does Daddy have affairs?” she asked without thinking.
“No . . .” AJ paused. “Shit . . . I don’t know.”
Good, he was starting to think. “If you were happily married, would you want to stay away five nights a week?”
AJ looked through the windshield. “Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me there isn’t a Santa Claus.”
She grinned, grasped the handle of the car door. “Remember, keep it simple and as close to the truth as possible. If you get stuck, punt to me.”
“Got it . . . Jennifer.”
“Let’s do this,” she said, pushing out of the car.
They walked to the front door, hand in hand.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered right before he knocked on the door hard and followed it up with a ring of the doorbell.
They waited several seconds.
“Maybe we should have called,” he said before pushing the doorbell a second time.
She heard the sound of footsteps rushing down stairs and a woman’s voice saying she was coming.
The door swung open and AJ’s mother’s stunned expression turned quickly into a smile. “Oh, my . . . AJ, what are you doing here?” She opened her arms to him, glanced over his shoulder toward Sasha. “Did I know you were coming?”
AJ let go of Sasha’s hand and pulled his mother into a hug. “Hey, Mom. We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d stop by.”
“In the neighborhood my rear end.” She hugged him tighter, kissed the side of his cheek.
He stepped away and turned to Sasha. “This is my girlfriend, Jennifer.”
Sasha stuck her hand out. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mrs. Hofmann.”
Mrs. Hofmann looked between the two of them, eyes wide open. “It’s Marjorie, please.” They shook hands. “Please, come in.”
AJ let Sasha walk in first, closed the door behind them. “Is Dad here?”
“No, he had an early tee time. If you’d called, we could have made sure he skipped his golf game.”
They walked through a well-appointed hall filled with traditional furniture that matched the style of home. The walls had several large photographs of both AJ and Amelia in their earlier years. No Norman Rockwell family photographs. At least not in the hall.
AJ helped Sasha with her coat once they were in the family room.
“We were planning on staying in town for a couple of days. Thought I’d take you and Dad out for dinner or something.”
Marjorie turned to see Sasha’s coat in AJ’s arms. “Let me help you with that.”
AJ waved her off. “I got it, point out the closet.”
“It’s in the hall.” She motioned back to where they’d just walked through. “I hope you’ll stay here. We have room.”
AJ walked away with the coats.
Sasha jumped in, all smiles. “We booked a hotel. I told AJ it was rude to show up unannounced, but he thought a surprise was a good idea.”
AJ’s mother had a genuinely kind smile. There was a strong family resemblance between Amelia and her mother. Similar height, same eyes . . . full-figured curves.
“Hopefully you can teach him a few manners that I somehow failed to,” Marjorie said with a bashful grin.
“Oh, he’s incredibly polite. You didn’t fail, trust me.” Sasha sat on the edge of the sofa, hands in her lap.
She seemed to like that.
AJ walked back into the room. “My ears were ringing.”
Sasha patted the space beside her. “That’s because we were talking about you.”
“What’s this about a hotel? We have plenty of room.”
She jumped in before AJ could contradict her statement. “I told your mother that you suggested it but that I thought it was rude to show up expecting a bed.”
Marjorie scowled. “It’s never rude for my son to stay with us. But I appreciate your thought.”
“Maybe next time.” Sasha leaned her head on AJ’s shoulder. “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Nothing that can’t be moved to next week. I can’t believe you’re here. I’d call Alex, but he doesn’t have his cell phone on while he’s on the golf course.”
AJ leaned back on the couch, pulled Sasha with him. “It’s okay. We don’t have to run off.”
“Have you had breakfast?”
Sasha nodded. “We ate.”
“But I could use some coffee,” AJ said.
She nudged his ribs with her elbow. “Honey, that’s rude.”
He smiled down at her. “It’s my mom, it’s not rude.”
Marjorie turned to leave. “Not rude at all. I’ll start a pot.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire was working on five hours of sleep. She’d stayed up while Cooper downloaded the last of