Page 47 of Delta Mission
“No! Just you hold your horses, mister.” Betty raised her voice. “We haven’t said grace.”
“Grace!” Talon blurted and reached for a piece of crackling.
Channing and I both chuckled.
“Talon! Put that down.” Betty’s glare could freeze lava. She patted Sutton’s hand, who was seated beside her. “Sutton, how about you say grace for us?”
“Okay.” The little girl’s excitement was so cute as she pressed her hands together.
I lowered my gaze and as Sutton said grace, I prayed I made it through the night without any more weird glares from Talon.
Channing and Talon may look identical, but their personalities were so different. Talon was the black sheep. The bad boy. While Channing was the opposite. Maybe that’s why they clashed so much.
As the food was handed around, Betty dominated most of the conversation. Whenever Betty took a breather, Sutton piped in.
“Pass over that crackling, brother.” Channing reached toward Talon.
Talon took a piece and passed the crackling Channing’s way, he then picked up his glass and swirled the dark bourbon around before taking a long slow sip. As he did, his eyes burned into me. Channing told me that Talon didn’t remember any details of what happened between us. I damn well hoped that was the case.
Maybe it was true. It had happened so quickly, and once we’d been picked up by that chopper in Colombia, Talon had made it his mission to hit on the pilot, Marley, for nearly the entire flight home.
Channing offered me a piece of crackling and as I crunched into it, Betty said, “Don’t eat too much crackling. I made peach cobbler for dessert. With ice cream and custard.”
“Ice cream!” Sutton squealed.
“And peach cobbler,” Betty tutted. “You must have your fruit first.”
“Yes, Aunt Betty.” Sutton pulled a sad face.
The remainder of the dinner was surprisingly fun.
Talon and Channing shared a story from their time together at West Point Military Academy. They bounced the story off each other, sharing different aspects like the other had no idea what really happened. It was funny how they disagreed on the most trivial aspects. It was also fun to see them like that. Like brothers. Maybe they really could bury their differences.
After dinner was finished, Valerie stood to clear away dishes. I stood and reached for a couple of empty plates.
“No, please sit, Makenna. You’re my guest.” Valerie tilted her head, and her smile seemed truly genuine. Maybe she really could forget what happened all those years ago.
“It’s okay, Valerie, I’d like to help.” I reached for the gravy jug.
“No. No. I insist,” Valerie said.
Channing took the jug from me and passed it toward his mother. “It’s okay, babe. Mom has a system.”
It didn’t seem right, but I sat down anyway.
The plates were stacked at one end, and Valerie and Betty ferried them to the kitchen. Betty returned carrying her peach cobbler and presented it on the table like it was an award-winning cake.
“Yummy.” Sutton sat forward in her seat.
A heavy knock sounded at the door, and both Channing and Talon looked at each other. The fierce expression that crossed between them had my nerves tensing.
Betty pouted her lips so much it was a wonder they didn’t fall off. “Who could that be at this hour?”
“I’ll go.” Talon swigged the last of his bourbon and stood.
“Don’t be long, Talon. I’m dishing up dessert.” Betty drove the spoon into the cobbler with more aggression than was needed.
After Talon vanished into the hallway, I leaned into Channing’s ear. “Were you expecting someone?”
