"Canned, or home made?" He followed her along the leaf-strewn path to the porch.
With a derisive snort, she said, "Canned, as if. I have to look my mother in the face the next time I see her." She walked him up onto the wide porch and unlocked the small trailer. "To be honest, I made some Sunday and froze a few. They thaw well. Better than the canned kind."
"I like your porch."
As she unlocked her door, she said, "I love it too. My dad and brothers built it for me. They got a little carried away. The thing's almost the size of the trailer itself." Toeing off his work boots, he left them outside and followed her into the house.
"It smells delicious in here." Easing out of his work jacket, he asked, "Where can I put this?"
"There are hooks on the back of the door." With a wriggle, she slid out of her coat and hung it next to his.
The interior was cozier than he had expected. "I've never been in a trailer before."
"Oh, come on, never?"
"Nope."
"Well, welcome to my happy shack. Have a seat." She gestured to her beautiful kitchen table. Slick against his hand, the polished wood gleamed. Mimi explained, "They made the table from a wide slice of walnut and the chairs are from my Nana's house." After she washed her hands at the sink, she put on a simple white apron.
"This table is beautiful."
"My Dad made it. In my family, the men make furniture. I was there when they milled the tree. Before the twig beetles did her in, she was majestic."
When she lifted the crock pot lid, the perfume of roast, carrots, and potatoes filled the room, and his stomach grumbled. A woman hadn't made a meal for him in a while. "Why weren't you interested in carpentry?"
With her wooden spoon pointed at him, she said, "I could not pursue the family business, actually. My family is disgustingly old-fashioned about gender roles and it drives me crazy."
"Progressive woman?"
"Absolutely." She seemed at home in the kitchen. Efficient and confident. He loved to bake and considered offering to help. Not everyone liked someone else in their kitchen. His Mom was very picky about that.
"Would you like some sweet tea?"
"I would." He held up his hands. "Mind if I wash the puppy off?"
"No, the bathroom is down the hall." She pointed with the spoon like it was a natural extension of her arm.
Covered with family photos, the hallway wall proved she was a proud sister. He had barely dried his hands when he heard a knock on the door.
"Could you get that, Adam? It's Noah. I swear, he has a sixth sense about when I am cooking."
When Adam opened the door, a wild red-headed little boy pushed right past him, sniffing the air. "Pa said I could come to eat at your house."
"You are welcome to join us." Noah went right into the kitchen and pressed his whole body against his sister.
When he grinned up at her, there were two teeth missing in the front. "I lost another tooth."
Examining his face fondly, she said, "Why indeed you did. Are you sure you can eat this?" She lifted the lid on the roast and picked him up so he could see it. "I could always make you something soft, like a boiled turnip."
"Ew, no turnips." Leaning forward to sniff, he said, "That smells good." When he reached out toward the bubbling pot, she swiveled her hip to keep the boy's hand from reaching its target.
"Careful, it's hot." Drawing him back from the danger, Mimi set him on the ground. "Is it a one or two biscuit day?"
"One." Confidently, he walked over to the table and claimed a seat, the very one Adam had sat in before. Apparently, even little brothers could be an obstacle when it came to flirting with their older sisters. It was all harmless fun because she wasn't his type. Even though Mimi was the kind you married, there was something about her that intrigued him. Because his dad's history with women had soured him on the whole idea of pair bonding, he preferred flings with party girls.
"And you?" With a start, he realized she was waiting for an answer.
"Two. I'd like two."
She slid the biscuits into the oven to warm and soften. "So who wants to be first to tell me about their day?"
Noah's hand shot up.
"Go on then," Mimi encouraged as she poured sweet tea into three glasses she had lined up on the counter.
"I got to ride Penny today after I did my chores."
"Was she good for you today? I know some days she dumps you in the dirt."
"She was good."
Adam enjoyed listening to them. Sadly, he didn't have the same ease with his sister. Secrets always seemed to swirl around his mother's house. "What about a picture? Didn't Jen want us to take one of a fake date? This meal looks fantastic."
"I have just the thing." Getting up, Mimi grabbed two wine glasses out of the cabinet. With a sly grin, she poured their tea into the fancier glasses. "If we turn our chairs so that the plain wall is behind us, no one will know."
Noah piped up, "Can I be in the picture?"
With a nod, Adam said, "Be our photographer first, then we will add you in to make the pictures even better."
As Mimi turned on all the lights she had in the room, Adam pulled their chairs together and placed the stage prop glasses on the table. After she handed Noah her phone, she showed him how to take a picture. It took a few tries, but they got one that was passable. In between shots, Adam stole a hungry bite of off the plate and groaned. "No one is going to believe this roast came from a restaurant. It's so good."
When Adam reached for Mimi's phone, bold as brass, Noah claimed the spot on his lap and leaned over so he would be in the middle of the Selfie.
***
So full he could barely breathe, Adam leaned back in his chair. Who knew that food out of a warming pot could be so transcendent? Noah had kept pace with him and done a remarkable job for a five-year-old. Adam asked, "Why were the carrots so good?"
"They are from our garden. We cool store root vegetables."
Chest puffed up proudly, Noah said, "I am the best at finding chicken candy."
Adam slanted his gaze toward Mimi, hoping for an explanation. Leaning toward him, she mock whispered behind her hand. "Garden bugs that the chickens eat." She sat back and winked at her little brother. "He is the champion around these parts. The chickens follow him around like he is their benevolent leader."
The boy said, "I've trained them."
Mimi's lips quirked as she lifted her glass. "Do they have any new tricks?"
"I taught Sugar britches to hop." Hopping out of his seat, he held up his hand. "I hold treats up like this and say 'hop'."
"You sound like quite the farmer, young man."
Mimi set her napkin next to her plate. "Speaking of, farmers have to get up early and it is getting late for you, Noah."
"Pa said I had to stay until..." He pointed right at Adam. "He leaves."
Reaching for her brother's hand, Mimi stood up. The smile she gave him made his chest tighten. Mimi asked him, "Wanna walk with me to take this handsome chaperon home before his bedtime?"
He could bow out like he normally did when women tried to introduce him to family. Full as he was, a walk in the cool night air might be nice. "I'd like that."
