“She said that?” Emily’s sad expression turned hopeful.
“And she came to you for the food—that was my idea, too,” Brooke added.
“Oh, Brooke, I’d hug you, but it might make Steph think you’re conspiring with me.”
“Well . . . I am.”
Emily put a finger to her lips. “Shh!”
Adam smiled at Brooke, enjoying how easily she found a way to encourage her friend and make her feel better. She was a protective woman, he knew, especially about her family, but also the other people in her life.
Monica broke out the sodas, and Adam helped set them out on various tables, but then he retreated, knowing the kids would feel more comfortable pretending he wasn’t there. Many of the girls had already gathered around Grandma Palmer, who was holding court in a quiet, but firm voice. He remembered her booming laugh, bigger than life, embarrassing his mother but not him. He could always hear his grandma from across any football field. He hoped to hear that booming voice again soon, but he couldn’t very well spoil her plans.
The adults stood near the kitchen while the kids played games. Gradually, almost all of the girls but Steph clustered around his grandma. In between laughter, there was an occasional “oooh” of recognition as she talked about the pattern of the cards.
Steph was sitting on a stuffed couch near the TV, talking to a boy whose back was to Adam.
Brooke grabbed Emily, and said quietly, “That must be Tyler. He’s the boy I told you about, that she asked to join the Chess Club. Guess he and his friends have been in some trouble.”
Emily frowned. “I heard her mention a boy during the week, but didn’t realize he had . . . issues.”
“Lots of kids have issues,” Brooke said, then glanced at Adam. “Remind you of anyone?”
He nodded. “Yep. And someone gave me a chance to turn myself around. But she should be careful until he does make some kind of effort.”
To Emily, Brooke said, “Since she’s already mentioned him to you, perhaps you can ask her how it went, helping him, I mean. Hey, it’s something to talk about.”
Emily nodded, then asked, “Can I change the subject?” She gestured to Monica and brought her over. “I have some news to tell you.”
“Should I leave you ladies alone?” Adam asked.
“No, I won’t banish you to the corner by yourself.” Emily smiled up at him. “As it is, it’s pretty easy to notice you’d rather be with us girls than the kids—or your grandma.”
Monica and Brooke both chuckled.
“Hey, I’m not about to let my grandma think I put stock in her wacky musings. I’m glad she has a hobby, but I don’t have to believe in it. As for the kids, they’d rather be with each other than me.”
“Oh, come on, you remember what it was like to be one, don’t you?” Monica demanded.
Brooke was watching him silently, and he guessed she understood what he meant.
“Of course I remember being a teenager. Some of it I wish I could forget.”
Brooke glanced at Monica. “Like a couple dates he had . . .”
“Hey!” Monica said, hands on her hips. “I get your implication, Brooke Thalberg!”
“Do I need to step between you ladies?” Adam asked mildly, even as the two women grinned at each other. “But Monica, Brooke is right in one sense—I’d like to forget the way I treated you. If you’d accept my apology, I’d appreciate it.”
Monica waved a hand. “Oh, please. If I had to apologize for every stupid thing I did as a teenager, I wouldn’t have time to work. Of course you’re forgiven. But that doesn’t mean Steph and her friends don’t have something to learn from you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Wait, wait, I didn’t get to tell you my news!” Emily cried, then looked around at the teenagers and lowered her voice. “Nate and I have decided to move in together.”
Monica practically squealed as she gave her a hug, and although Brooke also fell into the hugging line, she gave Emily a worried look afterward.
“This isn’t some kind of proof to Nate that just because you haven’t set a date—”
“No, no, nothing like that!” Emily interrupted.
“Because he’s a big boy, and he loves you enough to wait for whatever makes you happy.”
“Thanks for that,” Emily said with a soft smile. “But no, I want to be with him. I don’t need to wait for the wedding. But I had another reason to tell you the news—would you mind helping me pack and move?”
Brooke grinned. “What are friends for?”