A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [85]
Ashley’s kitchen was the heart of the house, a welcoming place, cheerful and bright, always shining-clean and usually smelling of something delicious—as it did now.
Melissa sniffed. “Brownies?”
“Double Chocolate Death Brownies,” Ashley replied, twinkling as she turned, took her daughter from Melissa, and gently plunked the child down in her playpen. “And you’re going to have at least two, because you’ve lost weight since we’ve been gone.”
Ashley tended to mother Melissa. Also Brad and Olivia, when they allowed it. She was a born homemaker and a good businesswoman in the bargain.
“You, on the other hand,” Melissa responded, tilting her head to one side as she looked her sister over, “are getting a tummy.”
Ashley patted her abdomen. “Of course I am,” she said happily. “I’m pregnant, remember?”
“Yes,” Melissa answered, letting her nose lead her to the counter, where the batch of brownies was cooling, “but I don’t have that excuse.”
“You’re too skinny,” Ashley said, filling the electric teakettle at the sink.
“I am not,” Melissa replied, good-natured bickering being pretty much their pattern. “And don’t think I’m going to gain weight to keep you company for the next six months, either.”
“We’re twins,” Ashley reasoned, hiding one of her sunshine-bright smiles. “The least you could do is pack on some sympathy pounds.”
“In your dreams,” Melissa said, but it was all she could do not to make quick work of that plate of brownies.
Ashley laughed, and inclined her head toward the table. “Sit down,” she said. “And tell me what’s been going on in Stone Creek over the last couple of weeks.”
“Where do I start?” Melissa said, only partly in jest. She scanned their immediate surroundings. “Are your guests around?”
“They’re in the backyard,” Ashley answered, with a twinkle. “Practicing the tango.”
Melissa shook her head. “I don’t hear any music.”
“They make their own music,” Ashley said.
“You can say that again,” Melissa retorted, recalling the nude croquet match. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put the shock of it behind her.
Ashley sighed. It was a happy, contented sound that made Melissa feel both love and envy, all in the same moment. “I like them,” she said. “I wish they were staying longer. So does Jack.”
“Where is Jack, anyway?” Melissa asked, looking around. Ashley’s husband was one of those men who seem to fill a house with their presence, almost making the walls bulge.
Like Steven Creed.
“He went out to Brad and Meg’s to fetch Mrs. Wiggins,” Ashley said. “You know—our cat? The one you didn’t want to keep at your house because she makes you sneeze?”
Instead of sitting down, Melissa went to the back door and looked out through the screen. Mabel, clad in plaid Bermuda shorts and a red T-shirt instead of the Flamenco dress she’d worn last time, held a rose in her teeth as she and Herbert tangoed their way across the patio.
“Amazing,” she muttered. “I need to find out if those people take vitamins and if so, what kind.”
Ashley laughed, moving to stand beside her. “They are pretty incredible,” she agreed mildly. Then she nudged lightly with her elbow. “I hear your wild side has been coming out lately.”
Melissa narrowed her eyes at her sister, who walked away to attend to the now-whistling teakettle. “Who told you that?” she demanded, though quietly.
Katie had curled up on the soft bottom of the playpen, and she was sleeping like an angel, with one thumb in her mouth.
Ashley poured hot water into the china teapot that had belonged to their grandmother on the O’Ballivan side, after scooping in some loose tea leaves. “I never betray my sources,” she said primly.
Melissa chuckled. “Tom Parker,” she said, making a not-so-wild guess. “He’s been emailing updates all along.”
“Texting,” Ashley corrected.
“I swear he’s a worse gossip than his aunt Ona,” Melissa fretted. “What did he tell you?”
“That he thinks you’re sleeping with somebody named Steven Creed,