Free The Homecoming by JoAnn Ross Page B

shape for him during the years he’d been in the Navy, declaring that you didn’t let a classic car rust.
    Which was true enough, but Sax’s mom had clued him in on the most important reason Lucien Douchett had babied the muscle car like it had been one of his own children. Apparently Sax’s dad had believed that as long as the car was waiting for Sax to come home from the war, his middle son would come home.
    Velcro, who’d learned the sound of the Camaro’s engine, bounded out of the screen door and came racing toward him, ears flapping, tail wagging. She was followed by Laffitte, the coonhound his parents had adopted from the shelter after their previous Laffitte died of cancer.
    When Velcro started barking like a seal and doing the happy dance in crazed circles, Sax caught hold of the mutt’s collar and headed up the steps into the house. The much better-behaved hound followed on their heels.
    His parents and brother were in the kitchen, which in every Cajun home was the heart of the house. His father was standing at the stove stirring up a pot of gumbo while his mother chopped peppers.
    Wearing an old WHO’S YOUR CRAWDADDY? T-shirt, Cole was sprawled in a chair at the scarred table that still bore the initials Sax had carved into its wooden top back in middle school.
    “Saw that pea-soup green SUV out there,” Sax said to his brother as he went over to the stainless-steel refrigerator his mother had fussed about him spending money to upgrade to. But from the way she was always polishing it with a dish towel, Sax knew she took great pride in having something that ordinarily would’ve been beyond their means. “Still hiding out from your beloved?”
    “I’m not hiding out from anyone. And it’s not pea-soup green. It’s kiwi.”
    “Maybe it’s time we staged an intervention,” Sax suggested. “Because the fact that a Marine even knows kiwi’s a damn color shows you’re in a world of hurt.”
    He pulled out a bottle of beer, pausing on his way over to the table to nuzzle his mother’s neck. “Damn if you don’t smell good.”
    Maureen Douchett laughed and pushed at him. “Only if you like peppers. And don’t be trying to sweet-talk your mother, Sax Douchett, because I know you too well for it to work.”
    “Funny, that’s not the first time I’ve heard something along the same lines today,” he said, snatching a pepper and pulling his hand away to pop it into his mouth before he got smacked. “So, where’s Gramps and Grandmère?”
    “Ever since the tasting day for the wedding cupcakes Kelli decided to have instead of a traditional cake, your grandmother’s had a craving for a lemon coconut cupcake,” Maureen said. “So they left right before you arrived to get her one.”
    “Do you think that’s a good idea?” His grandmother’s memory had faded dramatically since the last time he’d been home.
    “It’s only three blocks to Take the Cake. With no side streets to confuse her. Plus, it’s not as if she’s alone. Your grandfather’s with her.”
    “I could’ve stopped and picked some up on the way, if you’d called.”
    “It’s a good sign that she’s been thinking about something that happened two days ago. Meanwhile, as much as we love having them move in with us, it’s also good for them to get out and have some private time together.”
    It still concerned him. But, deciding his parents knew best how to handle the situation, since they’d been the ones dealing with it, Sax turned toward his brother.
    “Now that the cupcake-versus-cake issue appears to have been settled, how are things goin’ in matrimony land?”
    “Gotta admit the cake tasting was pretty fine. At the moment, Kelli’s sister’s over at the apartment planning the bachelorette party. I was told to make myself scarce.”
    “And naturally you followed orders like an obedient jarhead.”
    “Hey.” His mother waved a wooden spoon at him. “No one’s allowed to disparage Marines. Especially beneath