Free Completing the Pass by Jeanette Murray

table.”
    â€œI didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, toeing off his shoes and following her into the kitchen. It was empty, but he could hear the television in the family room. “Your parents here, too?”
    â€œYup. Mom said Dad needed a walk, so we trekked over. I didn’t invite myself,” she said hastily, as if he was going to accuse her of it. She looked around the kitchen, as if searching for something in the pristine room. There were two pots on the stove, simmering gently, but nothing else was out of place. “Vases . . . here. They were always here, right?” She zeroed in on a bottom cabinet and let out a little sound of triumph before bending over to reach in.
    She’d been as comfortable in his childhood kitchen as he’d been in hers. The benefits—or not—of living two blocks away and having mothers who were inseparable. Still, he struggled to hold on to his annoyance as she reached farther back into the often-unused cabinet. The skirt clung to her hips and ass in a way that made him regret leaving his phone in his car. That would be quite a picture to take and have later, when she was pissing him off.
    â€œThere we go.” Straightening, Carri held up a vase and grinned. “I had to fight the cabinet for it, but I won.”
    Her cheek had a little dust streaked over it, likely from when she pulled the vase out. It, too, was coated in a thin layer of dust. Though Gail Leeman liked her home tidy and treasured mementos from her son’s life, she didn’t often worry about the impractical. Once his father had left, she hadn’t dated. No men to bring her flowers. Josh did on occasion, but more often he sent a fruit basket because she was a fresh-fruit nut.
    It made him sad to see how dusty the vase was as Carri took it to the sink to rinse out and dry off with a dish towel. He vowed to bring his mother flowers more regularly.
    â€œI’ll just go say hi to your folks.” He edged away while the water was running. If she didn’t hear him make his escape, that wasn’t his fault.
    He was already seated beside Herb on the couch watching some SportsCenter when he heard her outraged sputter from the kitchen.
    â€œWomen,” Herb muttered.
    ***
    â€œYou leave tomorrow for camp, is that right, Josh?” Maeve asked, using the serving spoon to scoop some green beans onto her plate.
    â€œDay after tomorrow, at the crack of dawn. They provide a bus, so it’s not too bad, thank goodness. We don’t have to drive down there ourselves.” He forked some ham onto his own plate, then shot Carri a look to his left. “Ham?”
    She glanced at him, then back at her own plate. “No, thank you.” She hated ham, which he knew very well. As did Gail, who had graciously made a small chicken breast for her. Gail clearly had not passed down her polite genetic material to her son.
    Or more likely, he just did it to annoy her. Everyone else had always seemed to enjoy his company. Nobody understood why she was so annoyed with him, hated him so much in high school.
    He dropped a small piece of ham onto her plate anyway before passing it to her father sitting on her left.
    Oh, she had her reasons.
    â€œAnd you’ll be gone a few weeks. That must be so hard, leaving each summer for several weeks. Don’t you get bored?”
    Josh gave her mother a small smile across the table. “No, believe me, they keep us busy. Football’s a lot of the goal, but media junk and fan time keep the schedule full.”
    â€œYou have fans?” Carri asked as sweetly as possible.
    He just elbowed her while he reached for his water glass.
    â€œI do love watching the team now that you’re here. It was so sad to see you go to . . . Oh, what was that team, the one in the middle of the country?” Maeve scrunched up her nose.
    â€œRams, before they tucked tail and ran to LA,” Herb provided,