“I meant you.” Holt stuck out his tongue at him.
“If I’m not family, I don’t know who is.”
Andrew laughed and shook his head. “He invited himself.”
Patrick clutched his heart. “All of you want me here.”
“Especially my sister,” Holt said, squeezing Marlow’s shoulders. She flipped him off.
“Could we limit obscene gestures to the confines of our homes?” Mr. Dixon stood. He bent and kissed my cheek. “Hello, love. Glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
I grinned at him, and a satisfied smile spread across his face.
“Son.” He reached around me to shake Holt’s hand, so much meaning in just that one word.
I looked back at Holt, who gave nothing away. “Dad.” He pulled him in for a hug. “I thought you might’ve invited Mrs. Quinn. Maybe patched things up.”
Mr. Dixon scowled.
“Don’t start,” Marlow said. “I already asked, and he won’t say a thing.”
I had no idea what was going on, only that Mrs. Quinn and Mr. Dixon both seemed miserable now that they weren’t speaking. Her absence was notable, and I missed her in general. I’d promised Holt I’d go by the shelter to rally some help with the garage, but I hoped to catch Mrs. Quinn too.
I dropped into the empty seat next to Patrick, and Holt took the one beside me.
“Sandwiched between two beautiful women. Life doesn’t get any better.” Patrick flashed me a disarming grin. One I found myself mirroring back. I tried to wipe it off my face, but couldn’t.
“Hands to yourself,” Holt warned.
He held his up in surrender. “I see she’s your woman.”
“I am not his woman,” I blurted out, instantly wishing I could take it back.
A flash of hurt crossed Holt’s face, but he quickly smoothed it over. “She’s her own woman.”
Everyone around the table relaxed as if they’d braced themselves for a fight between us.
“No. She’s yours. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.” Marlow took a healthy swig of wine and stared at both of us unapologetically.
“How many glasses have you had? Cause you’re veering into territory that isn’t your business,” Holt said as if he barely had control of his temper.
His sister snorted. “Please. There’s no such thing as privacy in this family.”
“Then why don’t we talk about Jack?”
“Holt.” Andrew gave him a look to shut his mouth.
Marlow pushed up from the table, her chair scraping as she did. “You’re an asshole.”
She stormed toward the bathroom.
“Should I go check on her?” Trish asked.
“No. I will.” Patrick bolted from the chair and followed the same path as Marlow.
“You crossed a line,” Mr. Dixon said, leveling Holt with a look.
“She keeps it all bottled in. Like if she doesn’t talk about it, nothing happened.” Holt straightened in his chair, his tone defensive.
“That’s her choice.”
“She’s my sister. I’m not gonna sit here and let her keep rotting from the inside out,” he said through his teeth. “That would make me an asshole.”
“She’s still hurting. You know that.” Andrew took Trish’s hand as if he needed the support.
“Yeah, and I can’t stand it. I lived with her a few weeks, remember? I’ve cried more in my life than she has, but I heard her every night. So if you two want to keep skirting the issue, fine. But I can’t keep watching my big sister slowly die.” Holt glanced around behind us. “What does it take to get a drink around here?”
He shoved out of his chair and went straight to the bar.
“You’re all right,” I said, the two Dixon men blinking at me with the same surprise I felt. I should stay out of this, yet I couldn’t help myself.
“I agree.” Trish backed me up, and I gave her a grateful smile.
“This isn’t the time or place to dredge it up,” Mr. Dixon said with a sigh. He looked toward the restrooms and clenched his fist around the stem of his wine glass. “It kills me to see my little girl hurting.”
“Wonder where she learned to keep it all in?” There was no malice in Holt’s tone as he dropped back into his seat.
He slid a glass of red wine toward me and took a long pull from his beer.
“If she doesn’t come back soon, we’re all gonna have to go get her out of that bathroom,” Andrew said, looking like he was ready to do just that.
“Here she comes.” Trish pointed her head behind me.
Neither Marlow nor Patrick appeared particularly happy as they returned to the table. She plunked back down in her seat and gave us all a glare to keep our mouths shut. Everyone except Holt. She refused to look at him.
“This wasn’t the place to bring him up,” Holt said.
The look she fired at him was nothing short of lethal. “Then why are you doing it again?”
“Because I love you.”
She fisted her napkin in her lap, her pain palpable. “I love you too.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth, but the truth was in them.
“How’s the makeup line going?” Mr. Dixon leaned forward and looked at me.
I shifted in my seat, surprised and pleased by his interest in me. I’d always felt invisible with my own family. We’d been lucky if we sat down at the holidays. Both of my parents had high-ranking government jobs and that was all they cared about. I'd have given anything for this kind of attention.
“Pretty good. I’m still learning, trying to find my footing.”
“The women at Paths can’t get enough. And I can’t keep the lip gloss in stock on my truck.” Trish beamed at me.
“Have you formed a company yet?” Patrick popped a piece of a garlic knot into his mouth. “I know a good lawyer to set you up.” He winked at me.
“I thought that was a Dixon move.” I winked back.
He shrugged. “Guess it is.”
My breath caught at the implication. I wasn’t a Dixon. And neither was he.
“No, I haven’t even thought of it. It’s just a hobby,” I brushed off.
“Don’t do that.” Holt gripped my thigh.
“What?”
“Diminish your business. Maybe it’s small now, but you’re going places.” His expression was so open and honest, I had to look away. I craved his confidence in me, but it was too much.
“Want me to give out samples to the women at church?”
All eyes went to Marlow.
“You go to church?” Andrew asked incredulously.
“Sometimes.” She stole the remains of a garlic knot off Patrick’s bread plate.
We all stared at her like we’d never seen her before.
“I’d like to go with you.” Mr. Dixon gave his daughter a soft smile.
“Sure. I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll come too.”
Now everyone looked at Holt like he was a stranger.
“Might as well text the memo,” Andrew said.
“Leave me out of it.” Patrick held up both of his hands.