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He smiled, a little of the tension leaving him. “You too, Delia.”

“I made my macaroni pie in exchange for dishes duty.”

“It’s a deal,” he agreed. Jake loved my mom’s macaroni pie.

The front door flew open and Andie stepped inside, talking to the hulking figure of her husband-to-be over her shoulder. “Fruitcake? Really?”

“Yes, fruitcake,” Rick said in an insistent voice as he gently nudged her inside.

Andie huffed and turned to us. “I thought the benefit of marrying an orphan was that I didn’t have to put up with crappy opinions from the groom’s side of the family.”

“Andie,” Mom admonished.

I, however, chuckled at Rick. “Good thing you’ve got a thick skin.”

“You need it to marry a Redford sister. Right, Jake?” Rick clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder in greeting.

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Jake said. “How you doing?”

“My head’s bursting from discussing wedding plans but on the plus side, I’ve been working overtime to get a break from it.”

“Liar,” Andie snorted, finally coming forward to embrace Mom in hello. “He’s fussier than anyone about this stuff.” She pulled back on a pout. “Mom, please tell him we can’t have fruitcake for our wedding cake.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No fruitcake. Vanilla sponge with buttercream frosting.”

“Yes, exactly!” Andie threw her arms around me like I’d just saved her from drowning.

“Why don’t you have both?” Jake shrugged.

Andie and Rick stared at him a moment before looking back at each other. “He’s a genius,” Rick stated.

“Agreed.” She grinned cheekily at me. “I’m so glad I got you two back together.”

“Oh yeah, because you totally should take all the credit for that,” I said.

Before we could get into an argument, Rick turned to Mom. “If baking two cakes is too much, Delia, we’ll buy one.”

“Don’t be silly.” Mom waved him off. “I can bake two. Claudia will help me.”

I snorted. “I’ll inform her she’s been drafted.”

“You all going to stand out in the hall yakking or you coming in here to watch the rerun of last Sunday’s game?” Dad called from the living room.

* * *

“I thought for sure he was going to offer you a beer.” I snuggled into Jake’s side, trying not to be mad at my dad—and failing.

It was bad enough he talked to Rick and ignored anything Jake had to say during the game, but to get up and grab himself and Rick a beer and not get Jake one was rude. Rick had frowned at Dad, handed Jake his beer, and got up to get himself another.

Five months had passed since I’d first brought Jake home. That was five visits and Dad’s reception hadn’t gotten any less frosty.

I huffed out an exasperated sigh as Jake and I walked down Main Street. As soon as Jake had finished his beer, I’d practically hauled him out of the house for a walk, in the hopes that I’d cool off. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jake tightened his arm around my shoulder. “Jim’s just trying to make sure I’m in this for the long haul.”

“You mean he’s testing you?” I wrinkled my nose in annoyance.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, it sucks, and my dad is this close to getting my foot in his ass.”

“Nah, leave it. I’ve handled worse.” Jake’s eyes swept over Hub’s across the street and I saw them dim slightly with memories. It didn’t help that people still looked at him as if he was something of a curiosity. “This town still freaks me out,” he muttered.

I frowned. “You know you can stop coming here anytime and I’d understand.”

“Nah,” he looked down at me solemnly. “I think the time for running is long past.” He tugged on my hand and pulled me across the street.

“Where are we going?”

Jake grinned. “If I recall, my girl has a thing for chocolate milkshakes.”

Amazed, I gave him a tentative smile. “You want to go into Hub’s for a milkshake?”

Hub’s? One of the places where we had a ton of memories of Brett acting like an ass around us. The kind of memories that led to worse memories.

Jake pushed open the diner door, smiling back at me. “Yeah.” He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and led me inside. “Time to make new memories, Supergirl.”