It didn’t take long to diagnose the problem. Something was wrong with the ice machine. He’d never liked fridges with frills like ice and water in the door, but Caroline had talked him into it when they got married. “Just think how convenient it would be,” she had said. He smiled to himself, remembering the funny way she’d said the word convenient, holding out the middle e sound. She was always doing cute stuff like that.

As he pulled open the freezer-side door to inspect the ice machine, he sang softly to himself. “‘Sweet Caroline . . .’”

“Dad?”

He jumped and spun toward the hall, where Bea and Jeremy were standing. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I heard you singing.” The look on Bea’s face was unreadable.

Mitch swallowed. Did it bother her to hear him singing her mother’s song? “I was just trying to fix the ice machine.”

Jeremy gave Bea a knowing look—what did he know that Mitch didn’t?—and held up a large plastic bag. “I’ll go put these clothes away.”

Bea nodded but kept her eyes on Mitch as Jeremy walked away. “We went over to Ponderosa. Jeremy wanted to check it out.”

He heard her words, but she seemed to be saying something else. He closed the freezer door slowly and took a couple of steps closer to his daughter. Her face seemed pale. “Orange Julius?”

She nodded. They always stopped at the mall for an Orange Julius when they went to Ponderosa. It was a Jensen family tradition.

Mitch leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “I haven’t seen much of you this week. What have you guys been up to?”

Her expression softened slightly. “Not much. Jeremy’s been spending a lot of time on his computer.”

Mitch wrestled his face into a neutral expression. That kid was far too attached to his computer. It was like a third arm. And now he was going to sit around cruising the internet, or whatever they called it, while Bea worked her tail off at the Food Farm?

“Looking for work?”

“Sort of.” Bea knelt to pet Steve on the head. “He wants to start his own company. Work for himself.”

“What kind of company?”

She hesitated. “Consulting, I think.”

“You think?”

“He doesn’t know exactly yet. This is all new to us, Dad.”

Mitch bit back a sarcastic reply. This was dangerous territory. Better to change the subject. “I’ve never heard of a cat named Steve before.”

“He’s named after Steve Jobs.”

The name sounded familiar . . .

She stood. “The Apple computers guy?”

Ah yes. Of course. Mitch nodded. “I guess that makes sense with you living in Santa Clara. Was it nice there?”

Bea shrugged. “It was okay. Different.”