His brow furrowed. She’d already asked three times. She must be more eager to see her granddaughter than he’d realized. Not that he could blame her.

“Any minute now.”

A knock sounded on the front door as it swung open, proving Mitch’s point. He sprang to his feet. “They’re here.”

He scuttled around the armchair and down the short hallway. He hadn’t seen Bea since her wedding day, just over a year ago. He’d invited her several times to come up for a visit, but she’d always had an excuse. They were busy. They were settling in. They were trying to save money. She’d never reciprocated the invitation.

He rounded the corner and held open his arms. “B.B.!”

His daughter’s brown hair had grown long. Her cheeks were rosy. She accepted his hug, and he held on tightly. She looked so different. So grown up. So much like Caroline. If only his wife could see her now.

“Mr. Jensen.” Jeremy held out a hand as Mitch released Bea and turned to him. “Good to see you.”

Mitch took the offered hand and pumped it hard. “Jeremy.” His eyes dropped to Jeremy’s other hand. “Is that . . . a cat?”

Jeremy lifted the carrier. “This is Steve.”

Mitch blinked. How had he missed the fact they were bringing a pet with them? “You have a cat.”

Jeremy glanced at Bea. “I thought you were going to talk to him about it.”

The red in Bea’s cheeks deepened. “I guess I forgot with everything going on. I’m sorry.”

Aha. Mitch eyed the carrier. Folded his arms across his chest. Opened his mouth. Closed it.

They had a cat.

“Beatrice.” His mother appeared and grabbed Bea’s hands. “Look at you. Mylanta.”

Bea hung her head a little, as if self-conscious. “Hi, Grandma.”

“Well, don’t just stand there,” June said. “Come in, come in.”

She pulled Bea through the entryway and down the hall to the kitchen.

Mitch turned back to Jeremy. It didn’t appear there was much he could do about the cat situation at the moment. He narrowed his eyes at Jeremy’s arm. “I don’t recall your having a tattoo.”

“Oh. We, uh . . .” Jeremy cleared his throat. “We got matching ones for our anniversary.”

Mitch’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat as he stared at his son-in-law. “Is that right.”

He pictured some husky biker type in a leather jacket marring his daughter’s fair skin with a dirty needle and shuddered. What had possessed Bea to get a tattoo? It must’ve been Jeremy’s idea.

This was not how he’d pictured Bea’s big homecoming.

A little sternness crept into his voice. “I hear you’re out of a job.”

“The company went under.” Jeremy shifted on his feet. “But—”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“I have a few ideas.”