"Of course - but it would be expensive."
He nodded and lapsed into silence. His financial status was a complete mystery to her. Every Friday they went to town for groceries and he never questioned what she bought. He paid for the supplies with a check and took her and Mary out to eat. He said she deserved the rest and he wanted her to keep in touch with her friends. Why that was so important to him, she wasn't sure, and he never explained.
One thing sure, though. Mary liked him, and the feelings were obviously mutual. He was no more expressive around Mary than anyone else, but he often asked her opinion on things. Mary, on the other hand, was vocal about her opinion of Cade, even to the point of stating that he would be the greatest catch of the century - no doubt, even an exaggeration in Mary's mind. Yet it left her wondering if Mary was still romantically interested in him. To her amazement, that idea spawned an unwelcome pang of rivalry. Was it possible that he was equally interested in Mary?
"How are things going between you and scruffy?"
His question brought her to the present and she glanced up sharply, warmth crawling up her neck again.
"Scruffy? Oh, he lets me pet him now, but he doesn't want me to pick him up."
He nodded absently as he searched through the mail. He stopped on a small aqua envelope and frowned at the return address.
"Great."
The single word was a combined expression of disgust and distress. She leaned forward and studied the envelope.
"Is something the matter?"
He opened the envelope and read the note, his lips thinning down almost to nonexistence. He tossed the note to her.
"My sister is coming to visit."
She stared at him, shocked by his bitter tone. "I gather you two aren't the best of friends?" She glanced down at the signature.
"Your loving sister, Claudette Cade-Lander." She read the words aloud and he snorted.
"Her visits are nothing more than an inspection tour."
"Inspection of what?"
He pushed his chair away from the table and crossed to the family room doorway. He was silent so long that she decided he wasn't going to answer. As she picked up the dishes and turned toward the sink he finally responded. His voice still had a bitter edge, but there was a touch of musing in it now.
"To make sure I'm not keeping up with the Jones', I suppose." He lounged against the doorway; arms folded across his chest, and contemplated the family room. "Cindy, how would you like to do some redecorating for me?"