Page 81 of Where It All Began
Phoebe smiled. “My favorite. You’re a good girl, Joey.” She pulled back, brushing Joey’s hair away from her pretty face. Her brown eyes were rimmed red. The only truly girly thing Joey enjoyed was baking, and like everything else she did in her life, she was damn good at it.
“What the hell’s wrong with everyone?” Joey said, trying to pretend everything was normal.
“That lovable idiot Fitz brought the wrong brownies, and half the town is baked out of their minds on my front lawn right now.”
Joey surveyed the bodies upright and otherwise. “What about the other half?”
“Everyone brought casseroles and booze. Anyone who isn’t shit-faced is just too full to move.”
Joey snorted out a pained laugh. “Okay. Well, I just wanted to…” she gestured toward the cake and shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans. “And, uh, if you need anything, let me know.”
“I do need something, Joey.”
“Anything.”
“Take this cake and meet me in the barn in two minutes. I’m going to grab two forks and my emergency bottle of whiskey, and we’re going to eat until we’re sick.”
Tears glistened in Joey’s eyes. “But you have… company.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re family, Joey. Barn. Two minutes. And whatever you do. Do not let anyone near that cake. These people are one step away from pulling the roast from the freezer and licking it.”
Joey gave a brusque nod and grabbed the cake.
Phoebe snuck in the side door and had to step over Bruce Oakleigh’s legs to get to the utensil drawer. He was sitting against the kitchen island singing something that sounded like Ke$ha’s “Tik Tok.”
She grabbed two forks and, stepping over Bruce again, tip-toed to the pantry. Behind the flour and the box of wheat bran, which was a disguise for all her snacks that she hid from Jax, she produced a bottle of Jameson and headed for the door.
Amethyst Oakleigh met her on the porch. The woman leaned as if she were on the deck of ship going through rough water. Her brown eyes were bigger than dinner plates. “Es-cuse me, Phlebe. I was wondering if you’ve scheen my huschband?” She hiccupped and blinked as if surprised. Amethyst had never been a drinker in her younger years, and as a lifelong lightweight found herself snockered once a year, usually at a town function.
“Nearly passed out on the floor in there,” Phoebe said, pointing behind her.
“Thanks to yooou,” Amethyst nodded and walked into the screen door.
“You have to pull it open and then walk through,” Phoebe called over her shoulder.
“Hey, Mom!”
Jax’s voice froze her in her tracks. She hid the whiskey and forks behind her back. “Hi, honey. You doing okay?”
Jax kicked at the ground. “Yeah. Just wanted to see if you needed anything.”
Phoebe shoved the forks in her pocket and cupped his face. “Can you make sure no one drives home?”
He nodded morosely. “Yeah. Yeah. I can do that.”
“Good boy. Thank you,” she started to turn for the barn, but he stopped her.
“Mom, I didn’t see Joey here. Do you think she knows?”
“Yeah, honey. I think she knows.”
“I’d hate for her to think she couldn’t be here with…” he spread his arm wide to encompass the chaos. “Everyone because I’m here.”
“Sweetie. We’re all responsible for our own decisions. Got it?”
He gave a sullen one-shoulder shrug.
And Phoebe gave his cheek a pinch. “You know Joey. Do you think she’d let anyone scare her off of anything?”
