Page 131 of Love in Riverbend
“Most of my clothes are still packed,” she says. “I found these in my dresser.”
“We have company…”
“I don’t mind,” I say.
Ricky’s sister.
Little Devan Dunn.
The internal monologue isn’t working.
Devan smiles my direction and turns to her mom. “See, no complaints.”
And then I remember that Devan said she thought I couldn’t be here. Did someone tell her that? I turn to Janet. “If you weren’t planning on me…”
“Nonsense. We have plenty. I was counting on you.” Before I can respond, she calls loudly for Jack.
Once he’s with us, everyone fills their bowl and takes seats around the table. Before sitting, Ricky goes out to the garage refrigerator and comes back in with a large growler. I’m seated across from Janet, Devan is at her side, and Jack and Ricky are at each end. Ricky pours dark beer into glasses for me, Jack, and himself.
“Hey,” Devan says, “I’m old enough to drink.”
Old enough.
What does that mean?
I try to do math, to remember exactly how much younger she is than us. She just graduated college. That makes her twenty-two. I think. I’m thirty-two. I’ve never felt old before now. As I’m trying to figure out the dilemma, Devan and Ricky are sparring.
“Seriously?” Ricky asks his sister. “This is beer.”
“I know that. I drink beer.”
He looks to his mom who nods, before reaching for another glass. “Mom? Do you want some too? I don’t want to leave you out.”
“I’ll pass,” she says with a smile. “Everyone help yourselves to any toppings. Jack also has his special hot sauce if my chili isn’t hot enough for you.”
In the past, I’ve made the mistake of trying Jack’s hot sauce. It’s a homemade concoction from peppers the Dunns grow in their garden, and it’s deadly—like straight from Hell. Seriously, Jack should sell it to the government. One bottle could take out an entire cartel.
Ricky shakes a few drops of hot sauce in his bowl and hands the bottle to me. Instead of adding the fiery liquid, I put the bottle on the table and dip my spoon into the red soup. While the chili is hot, as in temperature, evidenced by my melting cheese—the flavoring is perfect. “Very good,” I murmur. “Plenty hot.”
Devan hides her smile as she too leaves the bottle of hellfire untouched.
I suddenly wonder if consuming Jack’s recipes would be necessary—a hazing of sorts—to enter the Dunn family.
Would I do it?
Wait. No, I’m not thinking of that.
Despite my inner turmoil, the conversation around the table stays mostly lighthearted as Devan and Ricky recount the day’s activities.
My bowl is almost empty when Ricky’s story registers.
“…couldn’t find Justin. And he was in Devan’s bedroom.” He accents the word. “Door was shut.”
Coughing, I choke on the chili as my eyes meet Devan’s. Sitting taller, she shakes her head. “Jeez.” She looks at her mom. “We had the windows open, and with the front door also open, other doors kept slamming.”
Ricky laughs as he points his spoon at me. “Man, you should see your face. I was just razzing. Seriously, thanks for the help today.”
“Speaking of help,” Janet says, “Justin, before you leave, could you help Rick get a desk from that trailer up to Devan’s new office?”
