River Wolf(48)

Hopefully they were friendly. The door opened before the thought fully completed. “Colby Jensen?” A woman with intense dark blue eyes and a hint of silver in her otherwise sandy blonde hair demanded.

Panic powered through her blood. Had she forgotten to do something with regard to her probation? All her paperwork had been completed. She’d finished her community service and Miranda promised to turn in her final reports. Miranda was not the type to forget anything.

“Yes, ma’am.” Still caught in an indecisive vise, the words came out a little higher pitched than she intended. The front door of the truck opened, and Owen swung around to Gillian’s side then opened the front passenger door. Neither seemed terribly concerned, so maybe…

“I’m Babette Danes,” she said, catching Colby’s free hand in hers. With a light pull, she tugged her from the truck then gave her a hug. “I’m Luc’s mother and I wanted to say thank you so much for bringing my son home.” Good Lord, this woman was Luc’s mother? Faint silver in her hair or not—hell, it could just be paler strands of blonde—no way the woman seemed old enough to be Luc’s mom. First Brett’s parents, now Luc’s? The next thing someone would tell her Gillian and Owen were in their fifties.

“Gil!” Babette called, one arm firmly around Colby. A tall man bearing a stunning resemblance to Luc turned away from another group and strode toward them. “She’s here!” The jocularity in Babette’s voice seemed to climb with excitement.

Panic settled into the pit of Colby’s stomach as not only Gil, but most of the circle of people he’d been chatting with followed in his wake. Like his wife, Gil gave her an embrace, though he swept his wife into it as well. “Thank you, Miss Jensen. We are profoundly grateful to have our son home.”

“This is our eldest daughter, Samantha,” Babette took over, and the swarm of people surrounding her parted faintly to reveal a leggy blonde with narrowed eyes and a polite smile. Thankfully, unlike her parents, she didn’t insist on a hug. “This is Taylor. She’s our youngest. Where is Simone?”

“I don’t know, I’m not her keeper.” Taylor answered with a roll of her eyes. If Samantha were cool, Taylor was a pistol. “Mom, you’re going to squeeze Colby to death.” Well, at least she had one ally among them.

“Oh, hush.” Babette dismissed her, then turned Colby to meet another woman. “This is Sabine, and her ma—man David. Oh, this is Mary Jo, not to be confused with Mary Kate who is also here, or Mary Francis…”

“I’m here,” Mary Francis or maybe it was Mary Jo said. Each person pumped Colby’s hand or gave her a quick kiss.

“Of course you know Margie and Charles.” Babette waved toward the grills and, sure enough, Brett’s parents were there. Margie even sported a tie dye shirt, and when she caught Colby’s eye, she gave her a thumbs up.

Hippies. They’re all hippies. Another swarm of people arrived—just how many had Brett invited while she was out? Or was this a typical Sunday? She lost sight of Gillian and Owen as Babette shepherded her deeper into the throng. Despite the sunshine, the grass remained a tad damp, but they’d thrown out huge tarps and set their blankets atop them. Tables had been set up to serve drinks, while others boasted bowls of salad, pudding, fresh cut fruit and vegetables. Burgers were grilling, along with hot dogs, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she caught the scents of barbecue chicken and pork.

Her stomach growled. Babette passed off her stack of paperwork and catalog, then her purse to a teen and he dashed to the house. Then she pressed a glass of lemonade into her hand and a plate. Before she knew it she was seated on one of the blankets, surrounded by people she didn’t know and being introduced to even more faces.

Too many to even begin remembering their names, so she nodded as politely as she could and kept a death grip on her cup and food plate. It seemed as long as she had both, no one dragged her into a hug or tried to shake her hand. As discreetly as possible, Colby searched the crowd for any sign of Brett. But tall, dark, and lonely was nowhere to be found. Of course, with so many people hanging out on the hill of the front yard, who knew how many were out back? Babette sat close, sandwiching herself between her husband and Colby. Had these people ever heard of personal space?

Finally able to take a bite of—a burger, they’d piled a cheeseburger onto a bun for her—she’d no sooner filled her mouth than Babette said, “We heard you’re planning to stay and we’re thrilled. My Luc is a good man and I know he will do right by you.”