thing everyone has his own room.” Charlie looked around. “No open flames in the bedrooms tonight, boys!”
“Hey, Fred!” Dave shouted from the kitchen. “Who do you know drives a black SUV?”
“What kind?” Fred stood and headed toward the kitchen. Charlie, his face pale, followed with his eyes. His body was rigid with tension.
“Looks like a Toyota. One of those Land Rovers, I think. It’s got that funky white roof that doesn’t match anything else.”
“Could be my mom.” Fred changed course and went to a window. He pushed the curtain aside. “Yeah, that’s her, all right. I wonder what she’s doing up here? I hope everything’s okay.”
He grabbed his down jacket from the coat peg on the wall by the door and headed downstairs. Behind him, Charlie relaxed and turned his attention back to the TV.
Fred reached the bottom of the steps and pressed a button on the wall. He walked towards the slowly rising door. When it was shoulder-high he ducked under and stepped outside. His mother’s truck was already parked. She stood at the back, the rear door open.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom!” He hugged her, lifting her tiny frame off of the ground. She laughed as he set her down gently. He looked inside the SUV. Two foil-covered aluminum roasting pans were stacked next to several plastic-covered casserole dishes and four square boxes. “What brings you up here? It looks like you’re planning to feed an army.”
“It’s been a long time since my eldest son has been anywhere near me on Thanksgiving, so I thought I’d bring you and your friends a little something to eat.”
Fred looked up as another vehicle navigated the driveway toward the house. “Who’s that?”
“That’s William and Anne,” his mother smiled. “They came down to spend Thanksgiving with me so we all decided to join you and your friends.”
“Is Robert coming, too?”
“No, not this year. His frigate’s in the Adriatic. He won’t be back ’til spring.”
Robert, the youngest of the Kyle boys, was a Lieutenant Commander in the Navy.
“That’s a shame.” Fred watched as the pearl-colored Lexus pulled to a stop. Both front doors opened. Anne, William’s wife of eight years, climbed out of the passenger side. She was tall, slightly over five foot ten, and slender. Her shoulder length ash blond hair framed her pale oval face. Hazel eyes and a thin nose accented her severe, narrow mouth.
Fred had no great love for his sister-in-law, in part because she reminded him of his ex-wife. He felt certain the trip here was not Anne’s idea. She most likely agreed to come because she couldn’t talk William out of it without causing a scene. Causing a scene would not discourage her; she had no problem making others uncomfortable if it suited her wants or needs. She’d more likely weighed the pros and cons of a family argument on a holiday and decided there wasn’t enough gain for her this time. That meant William would pay for this trip later.
“Hey, Bro, what’s happening?” Fred walked to the car as his brother climbed out and stretched.
William, at six feet, was taller than Fred by about two inches. Fred’s potbelly, however, gave him an extra fifteen pounds on the middle brother. Although five years younger, William’s slightly stooped shoulders, his graying and receding hair, and the deepening lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth made him look ten years older.
“Nothin’ shakin’ here, Bro.” The two hugged. “How about you?”
“Same-o, same-o. I’m glad you guys decided to come up. Did you bring your rifle?”
“Nah,” William shook his head and nodded meaningfully to his right. “You know how Anne feels about hunting.”
“Oh, yeah.” He certainly did. She often and vehemently declared her concerns for the poor animals that fell victim to the senseless and unnecessary slaughter caused by barbaric human predators. When she thought no one was watching, however, she could ravage a steak or a
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