Brianna reached for the next rinsed plate and, glancing behind her to make sure no one else was in the kitchen, asked, “Has there been any explanation as to why Jack crashed?”
Sarah shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything.”
Bree dropped her voice even lower. “Had he been drinking? Was he distracted by something? Maybe texting, or on his phone?”
“I don’t know. No one has said anything.” Sarah’s stomach churned. “But you know he left angry last night. They’d been fighting. Meg and Jack. And then JJ got involved, and Tessa, too—”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. And Jack said some pretty harsh things to Meg before taking off. And he literally took off . . . racing down the driveway like a bat out of hell.”
“Shit. I hadn’t realized he left upset.”
“I’m worried about Meg and the kids. It was such a scene—” Sarah stopped talking as footsteps sounded behind them.
“Tommy and Cass are leaving,” Kit said. “I might as well head out now, too, as I’ve got to teach in the morning.”
“I’m almost done. Have them hold up a moment so I can say good-bye.”
“I’ll tell them,” Brianna said.
“Let me take the towel,” Kit said. “I can finish drying. It’ll give me a chance to talk to Sarah.”
Sarah glanced at Kit, hearing her sister’s serious tone. “What’s wrong?”
Kit didn’t immediately answer, taking her time to find the right words. “Did you tell Meg that you didn’t want Jude to join me for Jack’s service on Friday?”
Sarah turned the water off and swallowed, blindsided. “I . . . uh . . . may have.”
“May have? Sarah, you either did or you didn’t.”
Sarah wished she could just vanish into her room with the rest of the white wine. “I did, but it wasn’t a big deal—”
“If it wasn’t a big deal, then why did you say it? Because Meg just pulled me aside and asked me not to bring Jude on Friday as he made you uncomfortable.” Kit enunciated each vowel and consonant so clearly that the words seemed to bounce, even as her blue eyes blazed, her gaze holding Sarah’s. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing. I’m honestly hoping that in Meg’s grief and exhaustion she misunderstood.” She paused, waiting, one dark eyebrow arching higher. “Did she misunderstand?”
Sarah winced. “No.”
“No.”
Sarah drew a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s good to have Jude around the kids. And that’s what I told Meg.”
“Why?”
“I . . . don’t . . . like him.”
“You don’t know him.”
“True.”
“Nor have you even tried to get to know him.”
“Kit, he doesn’t talk. And he doesn’t smile. He just watches people, and I’m sorry if it hurts your feelings, but I find him . . . creepy.”
“Jude’s not creepy.”
“Then scary?”
“He’s not scary either. He’s a really, really nice guy. You just have to give him a chance. Like the kids. They all love him.”
“But I’m . . .” Sarah closed her eyes, screwed up her courage, and blurted, “. . . not good with him being around the kids. At least, not around my kids.”
“What?” Kit’s voice rose a full octave.
Sarah shuddered inwardly, hating that they were doing this but thinking it better to at least get it out now before something happened later. “Try to see it from Meg’s and my point of view. We don’t know anything about him—”
“I do!”
“Okay, but do you know everything about him? Is it possible he has a criminal record?”
“No.”
“How do you know that? Have you run any reports, bought one of those search things on the Internet? He might have a record.” Sarah silently added, He certainly looks like he has a record. “You should at the very least find out.”
“I have. And he’s not a criminal, or a pedophile, or whatever you think he might be.” Kit drew a short breath, eyes too bright, cheeks flushed pink, making the smattering of freckles on her nose seem to pop. “Just because he has tattoos and a motorcycle—” She exhaled sharply. “Christ, Sarah! Do you think I’d ever, ever put your kids, or Meg’s kids, or any kids, in danger?”
Sarah held her breath, aware that Kit wanted children and a family badly, but she didn’t have kids yet. She didn’t understand how one had to be constantly vigilant, especially when one had young children. “No, but—”