The Cowboy's Christmas Baby

Chapter Three

“So it looks like the basic structure is sound.” Jan Peter looked around the inside of the house, pushing against a wall between the dining and living room. “The bearing walls are solid and if you’re not knocking any of them out, we won’t need to look at supporting beams.”

Jan was a tall man with friendly eyes, graying mustache and a quiet air that hid the savvy businessman he really was. Dean followed him around, his uneven footsteps echoing in the empty space. He had to force himself to concentrate on what Jan was saying and not to look too hard at Erin who stood beside her sister in the living room, her baby cradled in her arms.

He would have preferred not to see her so soon after their first meeting, but his truck was still at Alan Brady’s mechanic shop and wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow, so Jan had picked him up today. Then, as they drove, he’d told Dean he had to stop at a job right on the way. It wasn’t until they pulled into the yard that he discovered they were looking at the same house he had spun his own dreams around. When he and Tiffany were dating they would stop at this house, peek in the windows and plan.

Instead he was listening to his boss talking with Erin and Lauren about what they needed to do to make the house ready for the winter, and struggling with mixed feelings at her presence.

Today she wore blue jeans. Her hair looked tidier. She looked less weary and far more attractive.

“I just want to know if I can move in right away,” Erin was asking.

“If we’re not doing any interior work you can, but it’ll be noisy,” Jan said, turning back to Dean. “So what do you think we’ll need to do? I know you’ve talked about fixing up this place yourself.”

Dean was pleased that Jan asked his opinion. “The shingles on the roof are good but the siding should be redone,” he said, remembering the changes he and Tiffany had talked about. “I’d replace the living room window—the seal is busted and it’s all fogged up. Same with the one in the spare room upstairs.”

“Spare room?” Jan slanted him a questioning look. “Which one is that?”

When he and Tiffany were making plans they had given each of the rooms a name. Master bedroom, first kid’s room, second kid’s room and spare room. But he wasn’t about to admit that much in front of Erin.

“The smallest one,” he said, hoping he sounded more nonchalant than he felt. “To your right when you go up the stairs.”

“Did you live here?” Jan asked.

“No. I just been here before,” Dean said, catching Erin’s confusion as well in his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t about to satisfy it, either. Bad enough that she got to see him in all his crippled splendor, she definitely didn’t need to hear about losing his dreams when Tiffany jilted him.

In favor of his brother.

“I think you’re right about the work it needs.” Jan turned to Erin. “The renos Dean suggested are the ones we have to do to get the house ready for winter. We’ll pick a warm day to replace the windows. You won’t be cold, but you might be fighting flies that day.” Jan grinned at Erin but she was looking around, a peculiar smile on her face, as if the idea of living here held infinite appeal.

Dean knew how she felt. He was thirty-three and still living at home. That definitely hadn’t been in his ten-year plan. When his brother started renting the ranch from Keith he had hoped to get this place subdivided. This house had been his goal.

“So I could live here? Right away?” Erin asked.

Jan shrugged, brushing off the dust he’d gathered while inspecting the attic. “You could move in this afternoon if you want. Like I said, you’ll have to put up with a few inconveniences when we do the windows.”

“That’s good news.”

Jan turned to Dean. “I’m putting you on this job. If you need help I might be able to spare a guy here and there but for the most part I think you can do this on your own.”

“I thought I would be helping on that new barn you’re building by Mercy.” He didn’t want to work on this house. He didn’t want Erin to see him making his slow and methodical way up and down a ladder or scaffolding.

And the fact that it bothered him, well, that bothered him, too. He wasn’t supposed to care what people thought of him. He was Dean Moore. A tough-as-leather cowboy and, even more, a saddle bronc rider.

One-time bronc rider, his thoughts taunted him.

“Isn’t there someone else who can do this work?”

Erin’s question caught Dean off guard, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Clearly she didn’t think he could do the job, either.

“Dean’s capable,” Jan said. The faint narrowing of Jan’s eyes encouraged Dean though it would take a lot more than a bit of restrained anger on the part of his boss to balance out Erin’s lack of confidence.

“I wasn’t thinking of that,” Erin said, lifting one hand, clearly flustered. “It’s just... I thought...” She waved off her comments. “I’m sure Dean is more than able to do the work.”

“Good. I think so, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have put him on the job.”

“Look, if this is going to be a problem, let me work on that job in Mercy,” Dean said.

Jan slowly shook his head, gnawing at one corner of his mouth, a sure sign he had something he didn’t really want to say. “Sorry, I just hired on a new guy and he’s married and got a couple of kids. He needs the hours. Besides, this is close by and I won’t have to charge out traveling time for you.” Jan gave him a careful smile, as if hoping that would placate him. “And this way you can start whenever you want. Work your own hours.”

It all sounded so reasonable, but his boss’s comments still bothered him. And he was trying hard not to read subtext in his reasoning. Working his own hours meant flexibility for the rehab he was supposed to be doing and for the days he wasn’t well because the pain took over.

“Of course,” he said. “I get it.”

Then his eyes slid sideways to where Erin stood. She was looking at him and he didn’t imagine the pity on her face.

Anger surged through him. Anger with his circumstances and that Erin had to be a witness to this moment.

He wasn’t good enough. Simple as that. Just a washed-up bronc rider who couldn’t even get on a horse.

Erin hadn’t wanted anything to do with him all those years ago. He was convinced she certainly wouldn’t want anything to do with him now.

* * *

“Be it ever so humble.” Lauren turned off the vacuum cleaner and looked around the living room with a half smile. They had been busy in Erin’s new house most of yesterday and today, cleaning and moving furniture in.

“It looks homey,” Erin said, pushing a brown leather recliner into the corner beside the rust-colored couch Lauren had just finished cleaning. A wooden table replete with scuff marks and coffee rings sat in front if it. Mismatched end tables flanked the couch, each holding different lamps. A love seat in a pink plaid sat across from the couch. They had come out of a storage shed on Vic’s mom’s place. The rest came from the secondhand store in Saddlebank.

Two wooden chairs and three folding chairs were tucked under the oval wooden table in the dining room. A metal watering can holding daisies and lilies sat on the table. That particular touch of whimsy was courtesy of Jodie, who had shown up only briefly, full of apologies. She and Finn had a last-minute meeting with Abby Bannister to scout out some wedding photo locations.

It didn’t matter to Erin that Jodie couldn’t be here. She would see her again. That much she could count on now that she was back at the ranch.

“It’s perfect,” Erin said, folding her arms as she glanced around the room. Her home.

Her own.

And the best part was the cast-iron wood stove taking up the far corner of the living room. She already could imagine being curled up on the couch, reading a book, Caitlin in her arms, the lights low as a fire crackled in the stove.

“And you’re sure about this?” Lauren was asking as she plumped the pillows they had found at the bargain store in Mercy. “You’re sure about living here on your own?”

“Believe it or not, I am,” Erin said. “You have no idea what a treat it will be for me to have my own office.”

“Vic said the internet people might be coming tomorrow so it will be a day or two before you’re connected again.”

“That’s okay. I’ll need a couple of days to get myself organized.”

“Will you be able to keep busy? Out here?”

Erin chuckled at the skepticism in her sister’s voice. “I actually just got a call this morning from a previous client in Colorado. He wants me to do a series of static and interactive graphics for his website and some promotional material he will be putting out. It won’t be for a month or so but in the meantime I’ve got a few feelers out on some other work.”

Lauren shot her a puzzled look. “Still can’t believe all that coloring and sketching you used to do has translated into a job.”

“The degree in graphics design probably helped, too.”

“Of course.” Lauren gave her a smile, then dropped the pillows on the couch. “So this is the last of it. I’m really glad we managed to find a crib for Caitlin, as well. At least she won’t have to sleep in an apple box.”

“Or a bottom drawer of a dresser like Granny always said Mom did,” Erin said with a laugh.

Lauren released a gentle sigh, glancing down at the engagement ring on her finger then over at Erin. “I’ve been thinking about Mom lately, what with so many changes in our lives. Jodie getting married, me engaged. And now you with the first—” She stopped there as if not sure what to say.

“The first grandchild,” Erin finished for her. “I’ve been thinking about Mom, too. And Dad. I know I’ve said it already, but I’m sorry I missed the funeral.”

Lauren gave her sister a quick hug. “You had your reasons. Did you read Dad’s letter to you?”

“I haven’t had a chance. Caitlin was fussy most of last night.”

“You should have woken me or Jodie up,” Lauren chided, giving her shoulders a gentle shake. “Either of us would gladly have held her.”

Erin felt a surprising hitch to her heart. The six weeks she’d spent at the house with her roommates after Caitlin was born had been fraught with tension. Though her friends were helpful and for the most part considerate, she still overheard muted grumbling about short nights and interrupted sleep. She wasn’t accustomed to having help offered.

“Sorry. I didn’t think—”

“That Jodie or I would want to hold our own niece?” Lauren shook her head. “Honey, you’re with family. You’re allowed to have expectations.”

Which was probably part of her problem with Sam, Erin figured. She didn’t dare have expectations. Each time she brought up their future he would gently tell her she shouldn’t pressure him. They would talk later.

Then later came and here she was.

“Speaking of,” Lauren said, tilting her head, “I think I hear something.”

Erin heard a squawk from the room she’d claimed as her bedroom and was about to go get Caitlin when Lauren stopped her.

“I’ll do this. You just sit down.”

Then she hurried off.

But Erin wasn’t about to sit down. Not with the bags of stuff they had purchased sitting on counters. She was eager to put it away. To get her kitchen cleaned up and organized.

Just then Dean came into the house carrying a box holding her laptop and router and Erin was distracted by a more important task.

“Here. Let me,” she said.

“I got this.” He shot her an annoyed glance.

“I don’t mind helping,” she said, reaching out to take the box from him.

As she did her hands brushed his and they both pulled back at the same time. Which made the box tilt precariously.

Dean shifted and took a sudden step left. In the process he fell against the recliner, which teetered as Dean struggled to regain his footing.

Erin made another grab for the box, but Dean caught his balance, grimacing as he did.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned at his quick intake of breath.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that’s my laptop in that box. I need it for my work and I didn’t want—”

“Didn’t want it to fall?” Dean gave her a sardonic look and handed her the box. “Here. Take it if you think I’ll drop it.”

She wanted to protest, realizing she had overreacted. She wanted to explain that the laptop was new. That she still owed money on it. That she needed it for her job. A job she now needed more than ever since she had Caitlin depending on her and she had medical bills to pay.

But that would have taken too many words and too much exposing of her life to someone she preferred to keep in her past.

Then she looked up at him and was dismayed to see him staring at her as he still clung to the box. They stood there, old memories braiding through the moment. How intense he could be the times he asked her out. How her foolish heart had beat just a little faster each time he did. How her practical mind told her to say no.

Then he gave the box a tiny shove, returning it to her. But as she took it, she felt as if he was also pushing her away.

She shook her head as she set it on the kitchen table, suddenly disoriented. It bothered her that a simple touch of Dean’s hands created such a strong reaction in her.

Then Lauren came out of the room holding Caitlin and reality settled her faintly beating heart.

She had a daughter to take care of. She had responsibilities. Her reaction to Dean was just a hearkening back to old memories. With all that had happened to her in the past, she knew she was stronger than that.

She had to be.

* * *

The next morning, Dean parked his truck and shot a quick glance at his watch. 7:45. He couldn’t see any movement inside the house. Maybe he had come too early?

Not that it mattered anymore. The growl of the diesel engine coming on the yard would have woken Erin up.

The house was tucked into a copse of trees and as he got out of the truck the wind picked up, rustling through the leaves of the aspen. They were already showing a tinge of orange and yellow amongst the green. Fall was on the way, but thankfully today was warmer.

He walked to the back of his truck and opened the tailgate. The ladder he needed to unload was long and unwieldy and he would have to do some creative lifting to get it to the house.

As he manhandled it out of the truck, he felt a strong twinge in his leg followed by one of regret. Jan had offered to come by and help him get everything ready, but after Erin expressed her doubts about his ability he wanted to prove he could do it himself.

The end of the ladder came off the truck and crashed to the ground. Next step was getting it to the house.

“Do you a need a hand?”

Dean’s heart jumped and he spun around, almost unbalancing himself in the process.

Erin walked toward him, her baby tucked in some kind of carrier strapped to her front.

She wore a long sweater that flowed as she walked. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun-looking thing emphasizing her narrow features. And once again he wondered what had happened to her the past few years to put that edge in her voice, that hardness in her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks. Wondered if it had anything to do with the baby she carried.

“I’m okay,” he said, lifting his chin as if challenging her to help him. “I do this for a living.”

“I’ll let you get to your work. But let me know if you need a hand.”

He just nodded, glancing from her face to the baby bundled against her chest. “I doubt you’ll be able to help much.”

“Excuse me,” she huffed, sounding insulted. “I know how to handle a hammer and nails. I’ve done home renovations before.”

Her snippy tone was a shock. “So tell me, Miss Home Renovations, why is it okay for you to question my abilities but not okay for me to question yours?”

She looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”

So now she was going to play dumb. Tiffany had excelled at that. Throwing back his suspicions about her faithfulness by going on the defensive and lobbing out questions.

He wanted to make it easy for both of them and drop it. But if he was working here for the next week or so, he needed to face her doubts head-on. “Tuesday, when Jan and I were here, you asked if there was someone else who could do the work. Like you didn’t think I was capable.”

She blushed, which did two things. Confirmed his suspicions and made him even angrier.

“I may not be able to ride a bucking bronc, but I can fix your siding and replace your windows,” he said, wishing he could keep the anger out of his voice. Seeing his ex-girlfriend’s pitying look just before she dumped him had been a tough pill to swallow. Going through the slow and painful steps of rehab even more so. But to have this girl whom he once admired and dreamed of dating treat him like less of a man was like a slap. “It might take me longer than usual and if that’s a worry, I’ll tell Jan to adjust your bill,” he snapped. “Call it a disability discount.”

Erin took a step back, looking as if he had hit her and he regretted being so defensive.

“I’m sorry” was all she said. Then she turned and strode back to the house, her sweater flaring behind her in her hurry to get away from him.

He blew out a sigh as she closed the door, shaking his head at his stupid outburst. Way to go, Moore, he chided himself. Way to treat the customer.

She was probably in the house, calling Jan up and telling him she didn’t want this crazy man on her yard anymore.

He sucked in a breath and picked up one end of the ladder, pulling it away from the truck. Then he started toward the house, his steps deliberate as he dragged the thing behind him.

He hoped she didn’t look out the window at this point to see just how disabled he really was. He knew it shouldn’t matter to him what she thought.

But it did. Far too much.

As he lifted the ladder against the house, moving slowly and carefully, he struggled with his own doubts.

He would finish up here today and then he would phone Jan and tell him he had to find someone else.

No way was he going to work for someone who didn’t think he could do the job.

Especially not Erin McCauley.

Chapter Four

Erin drizzled the glaze on the bundt cake she had made, then stood back to admire her handiwork.

Too much? Not enough?

What kind of cake did you bake for the man in front of whom you’d made a complete fool of yourself? What kind of cake said “I’m sorry” the best?

This morning, after her run-in with Dean, she had packed up Caitlin and made a quick trip to town to talk to the people at Dis-Connected about getting her internet up and running. From there she’d headed to the grocery store to pick up a few things she was missing, as well as supplies to bake this cake.

But now that it was done she was having second thoughts. Should have just gone with cookies. Or muffins.

She tossed the bowl with the remainder of the icing into the sink. Seriously, how indecisive could she be? Had Sam done this to her? Stolen her identity and her confidence?

The answer to that would be a resounding yes if she were honest with herself. But she didn’t want to admit he’d had that much influence in her life. Lauren had always accused her of being a people pleaser. Her life with Sam was the epitome of that personality trait.

She could hear Dean clattering around outside, going up and down the ladder. She didn’t know what he was doing out there, only that she wasn’t going out to watch. After his outburst she doubted he would appreciate spectators.

Well, the cake was done and it was a quarter to twelve. He would be quitting for lunch soon. Perfect time to bring it out to him.

She glanced at the clock again just as her phone rang.

It was Jodie.

“Hey, sweetie,” Jodie trilled, “I’m about five minutes away. Can I stop in?”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

“I kind of figured, but I don’t want to intrude.”

Jodie’s words gave her a tick of sorrow. In her shame and retreat from her sisters had she come across as so unapproachable?

“Will Caitlin be awake?” Jodie asked.

“She’s sleeping now, but I’m sure she’ll be up soon.” Thankfully Caitlin had settled in last night. It was as if she too sensed they had arrived at their final destination.

This morning Erin had gone for a walk around the property and down the road, just to get a sense of the place. To let herself enjoy the space, the quiet and the simple fact that this belonged to her and only her.

Then she’d made a fool of herself in front of Dean.

“Then if it’s okay, I’m coming over,” Jodie said.

“That would be great.”

This way she could put off the agony of indecision over the cake she had just made and, instead, catch up with Jodie. She wanted to talk about the wedding and settle back into her sister’s life. The easier sister’s life.

Though she and Lauren were twins, she always felt like the younger sister around her. She knew Lauren loved her, but the dismayed expression on Lauren’s face when she’d arrived with Caitlin showed Erin how disappointed her twin was.

Whereas Jodie’s reaction had been one of joy.

Erin set the cake aside, quickly washed up the dishes she had used, tidying with a sense of anticipation. She shot a glance around the house. Everything was in order.

Outside she could hear thumps and the occasional screech of nails. She was very curious as to what he was doing, but her embarrassment over how he had misinterpreted their last interaction kept her inside the house, uselessly tidying. Then she heard a muffled squawk from the bedroom and she rushed to pick up her daughter. Just as she came out of the room she heard a vehicle pull up.

And as Jodie came up the cracked and uneven sidewalk, carrying a bouquet of flowers, Erin’s throat thickened and tears welled up in her eyes.

She opened the door and Jodie hurried toward her, arms wide.

“Hey, sis,” Erin managed as Jodie grabbed her in a careful hug.

Jodie held her close, Caitlin snuggled between them as tears spilled.

“Oh, honey,” Jodie murmured, rocking her back and forth. “It’s been a long road for you, I think.”

Erin sniffed, annoyed at how easily she cried in front of her sister, yet thankful for someone whom she felt comfortable enough around to do exactly that.

Jodie pulled back and smoothed Erin’s tears away with the balls of her thumbs, her expression sympathetic. “You’re home, you know.”

“I know. I think that’s why I’m feeling so weepy.”

“And you just had a baby.”

“That, too,” Erin said with a tremulous laugh.

“So, you take these and I’ll take her,” Jodie said, handing Erin the flowers while she carefully removed Caitlin from Erin’s arms, cradling her as they walked into the house.

Jodie sat down on the couch and bent over her niece, inhaling slowly. “Oh, my goodness. She smells so sweet.” She rubbed her nose over Caitlin’s tiny one. “And you are such an amazing gift. You are, you know,” she cooed to Caitlin. “You are a perfect little gift to our family. We’re so blessed to have you.”

Erin felt the bonds of guilt and shame that had held her soul loosen at Jodie’s simple, accepting words.

“By the way, Lauren and Aunt Laura both say hi, hence the flowers,” Jodie said indicating the bouquet Erin was cutting the ends off of. “They both wanted to come, but they both have to work whereas self-employed me can take time off and have you and Caitlin all to myself,” she said, her head tilting slightly as she heard the sound of hammering. “So I noticed Dean’s here already?”

“Yeah. He came this morning,” Erin said, removing the fake flowers Jodie had brought yesterday from the metal watering can and filling it with water. “And now I’ve got this apology cake cooling on the counter that I don’t know what to do with.”

“Apology cake? Never heard of that recipe,” Jodie said, frowning her puzzlement.

“Well, it’s about a cup of my-big-mouth, mixed in with three tablespoons of wounded pride and a soupçon of McCauley.”

“Oooooh, that cake,” Jodie said with a knowing nod of her head. “I should have baked a few of those in my life. That and Humble Pie.” Then she shot her a questioning glance. “So I’m guessing the cake is for Dean?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“What did you say to him?”

Erin set the flowers in the pot and put it back on the table, avoiding her sister’s gaze. “I kind of made it sound like he wasn’t capable of fixing my house. At least I think he took it that way.”

“Oh, dear.”

“It wasn’t that I thought he couldn’t do it,” she said, fiddling with the flowers, arranging them just so. “It’s just, well, I’m not comfortable being around him and my mouth got away on me.”

“Honey, that’s my line, not yours.”

“I know. I was feeling weird.”

Weird and ashamed. She had always been the good girl. The one who turned down Dean’s many requests for dates because he was too rough and rowdy for her. Now she was the one who wasn’t “suitable.” She was the one who had messed up her life.

“Anyhow, I felt bad so I thought I would bake him a cake,” Erin continued.

“I should go get him so we can eat it. He’s probably not had lunch yet.” She shot her sister a questioning glance as she stood. “If that’s okay with you?”

“I guess.” Dean would be working here so she figured she might as well try to smooth things over between them as soon as possible.

Jodie walked to the door still carrying her baby.

“I’ll take Caitlin, though,” Erin said, holding out her arms for her daughter.

“I’ll be careful.”

Erin held Jodie’s puzzled gaze for a beat, surprised at the flutter of panic that seeing Jodie walk away with her daughter created in her. “I know. It’s just... I haven’t had anyone else taking care of her since she was born. Besides, she needs her diaper changed.”

Jodie seemed to understand and handed Caitlin over to Erin, but as she did she held Erin’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, disappointed at how breathless she sounded, glancing down at Caitlin. “I’m just fine.”

“Okay, I’ll be inside shortly.”

Then Jodie disappeared around the side of the house.

Erin took a steadying breath, her heart finally slowing down. What was wrong with her? Why the panic attack? This was her sister, not some random stranger.

Hormones. That’s what she was blaming it on, she reasoned, cuddling Caitlin closer as she walked toward her bedroom.

A few moments later she had Caitlin’s diaper changed and her baby lay swaddled up in a bouncy chair Lauren had rustled up from some of the cousins. Caitlin stared, cross-eyed, at the little stuffed animals hanging from the bar straddling the chair, her mouth a perfect little O.

As Erin held her daughter’s tiny fingers, wrapped tightly around her own, her heart pinched.

Would it ever get old? she thought, marveling at the delicacy of her fingernails, the delicate swath of her thick eyelashes.

“You didn’t get those from me,” she murmured, brushing her finger over her baby’s cheek. Unbidden thoughts of Caitlin’s father entered her mind and behind that came the ever-present shame and guilt. “I didn’t know,” she whispered to her baby. “I just didn’t know.”

* * *

“I’m too busy to stop,” Dean grumbled, yanking on a piece of the siding and tossing it to the side to join the pile already there.

“You have to eat lunch some time,” Jodie said, looking up at him perched up on the ladder, her hands planted on her hips.

Dean ignored both her and the grumbling of his stomach at the thought of lunch. He was hungry, but he wasn’t about to get down the ladder in front of Jodie. He inserted his claw hammer under the next nail.

“I packed a lunch” was all he said. “I’ll eat it when it works.”

“Then come and eat it with us,” she said, slipping a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Erin made a cake. She called it an apology cake. Not sure what that meant, but I think she feels bad about something she did or said to you.”

Dean couldn’t help the flush warming his neck. Erin’s doubts about his ability had fueled most of the work he’d done this morning. Had made him push himself harder than he probably should have.

But the fact that she felt sorry tweaked his ego just enough. That and the fact that his leg was on fire and he really could use a break.

“Give me about five minutes and I’ll come inside.”

“You got ’er,” Jodie said with a quick salute. He waited until she was around the corner of the house before he worked his awkward way to the ground, fighting his frustration at each halting step.

His physiotherapist had warned him that it would take time and to be careful. Not that he’d spent that much time with Mike the past couple of months. Mike had called Dean a few times, but Dean had ignored the calls. Every time he went it was like he was reminded again of how useless he was and he hated asking Jan for time off work to make the appointments.

Dean stopped at the bottom of the ladder. He massaged his aching leg, stretching it out, still debating the wisdom of going into the house. Then he heard Jodie calling him and he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.

With a sigh he brushed the sawdust and dirt off his shirt and pants and walked through the overgrown grass to his truck. He grabbed the thermos of coffee he’d made this morning and grimaced at the sight of the plastic grocery bag holding his lunch. A couple of peanut butter sandwiches and some homemade cookies. He’d had a few good-natured battles over this with his mother when he started working for Jan. She’d wanted to make his lunch, accusing him of not packing nutritious food.

Well, she was right. But there was no way, on top of still living at home, that he was letting him mom pack his lunch, too. That was too many shades of pathetic.