Page 104 of Small Town Sizzle

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Maya

It’s early Sunday morning, and Alex has been in his room with music playing ever since he got back from his walk with George last night. He didn’t speak to me any of the times he came down for food or water, even when I tried to bribe him with pizza and soda.

I can’t blame him for being upset. His reaction is normal—he’s got a lot to figure out, and I’m confident that he’ll come to me when he’s ready.

When my dad dropped Jazlyn off, she went inside to play with George, and I walked outside with him. I told him what I found in Megan’s journal, and my dad remained stoic. He nodded his head and said that he’d let Mom know.

I had expected more of a reaction, but then again, my dad’s never been one to show a lot of emotion.

He came down this morning and took George for his morning walk like he always does.

“Did Lacey break up with Alex?” Jaz asks in a stage whisper.

“Lacey?” I ask as I pull back a little. “Alex had a girlfriend?”

“Well, they’d gone on a date or two. I overheard him and Mason talking.” She rolls her shoulders nonchalantly. “Maybe we should make him biscuits and gravy. That always makes me feel better.”

“It is his favorite meal,” I tell her with a smile. “Let’s do that.”

Jaz grins widely as she hops off the couch and scurries into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients out of the pantry.

As she bustles around getting out everything we need, my eyes keep flitting toward the door. Alex and George usually only go around the block. George is too big and too lazy to do much more. He’ll plop down in the middle of a shady spot and refuse to move unless someone carries him.

I glance at my phone to see if maybe he texted to say he stopped at the park or at a friend’s house, but nothing.

Jaz and I start the meal. I’m trying to make it as normal as possible for her, hoping that she doesn’t notice the difference in my demeanor or pick up on my anxiety, but I’m not sure that I’m doing a good job.

“You’re the best mama ever,” Jaz says softly as she continues working.

The kitchen smells like heaven. The butter is melting into the pan, the gravy bubbling softly on the stove, and Jazlyn is stirring with the concentration of a professional chef, her brow furrowed like she’s working on a masterpiece.

“Don’t stir too fast, Jaz,” I say, grinning as I knead dough for the biscuits. “You don’t want it to splash.”

She rolls her eyes at me but slows down a little, her small hand gripping the wooden spoon tightly. “I know, Mom. You’ve told me, like, three times.”

I laugh. “Sorry, chef. I’ll let you run the kitchen.”

She giggles, her shoulders relaxing a bit. For a moment, everything feels normal. Peaceful. This is exactly what we all need—something warm, comforting, and distracting.

Biscuits and gravy a la Aunt Maya is Alex’s favorite meal. This is my ace in the hole, I know he’ll come into the kitchen and talk if he’s stuffing his face full of this. He also can’t resist when Jaz helps out; it doesn’t matter if the biscuits are like bricks, he’ll still eat them as if he’s starving so he doesn’t hurt her feelings.

“He likes the gravy with lots of lumps, Mama,” she says as she stirs more slowly.

I hear a noise at the front door, the faint click of it opening and closing.

“That’s probably Alex,” I say, half to myself. I don’t bother looking up, wiping my hands on a towel as I check the oven temperature. “We’re in the kitchen!” I call out, my voice light and casual. “We’re making your favorite, Alex!”

I wait to hear the pounding of George’s paws on the laminate flooring, but I don’t hear anything.

“This is going to be my best gravy yet, Alex,” Jaz calls over her shoulder. “You’ll call me the best chef in the world after this one.”

No answer. I glance at Jazlyn, who’s still stirring away, and shrug. “I know you’re mad at me,” I call out again, a teasing lilt in my voice. “But we’re making biscuits and gravy, and I’m not above bribing you to talk to me.”

Didn’t he let George off the leash yet? That’s not like him.

I hear footsteps, slow and heavy, moving down the hall. I didn’t expect him to give in easily, but at least he’s coming into the kitchen, even if he is being quiet. Alex is probably just trying to make a point, dragging it out because he’s still upset. I get it. I’d be upset, too, if my whole world had just shifted on its axis.

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