Lauren set to work with her own peeler, scraping the skin into the trash can. “That’s not true. The little girl,” she jerked her head in Alva and Jeni’s direction, “was interrogating me on the porch before you found us.”

“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t after your money,” Alva said loudly.

Lauren’s face heated instantly. She thought she’d spoken quiet enough that no one would hear. With her questioning and eavesdropping skills, that child was destined to be a special agent.

Andrew choked on a laugh and looked at Alva. “What? Why would you think that?”

“I overheard Mommy and Aunt Rhonda talking about your girlfriend and that she wanted you only for yo—”

“Alva!” came Valerie’s sharp reprimand.

The little girl dutifully stopped speaking, but muttered something under her breath that sounded like, “It’s true.” Lauren glanced at Andrew. He sat very still, his attention on his sisters, both of whom avoided eye contact with him.

“How old is she?” Lauren whispered.

“Five,” he said wryly. “I can’t believe it either.”

They peeled their potatoes in silence for a few moments.

“Andrew?” A male voice said from the living room. “You gonna come watch the game?”

“Nah, I’m good here,” he called back.

“Do you usually help with Thanksgiving dinner?” Lauren asked.

“No.”

“You don’t have to stay here with me.”

He met her gaze with dark brown eyes. “I want to.”

She dropped hers back to her task. “Is that your dad in there?”

“Yeah. And Valerie’s husband, David, and their one-year-old son, Charlie.”

“Lauren?” Alva interrupted. “Some people think it’s hard to tell me and Charlie apart. If you ever wonder, just remember that I’m bigger, and I’m a better dancer.”

The entire room erupted with laughter, Lauren included, and Alva’s eyes swept the room as if she couldn’t understand what was funny.

“I’ll remember that.” Lauren fought to keep a straight face. “Thank you, Alva.”

When dinner was ready, eight adults and two kids crammed themselves around the six-top table. Lauren sat squashed between Andrew and Rhonda. Andrew’s left leg pressed against the length of her thigh, and she felt the contact as if no fabric were between them. She tried to conspicuously shift in the opposite direction, but then her other leg would meet Rhonda’s, and she kind of thought that would be even more awkward.

Dinner conversation was lively and, having gotten used to the constant volume over the previous hour and a half, Lauren enjoyed herself immensely. She learned about what each of the sisters did for a living and asked Andrew’s dad (whom she’d finally been introduced to before dinner) about his farming business. He was a man of few words but opened up about his life’s work, a gleam of excitement in his eye.

Andrew remained strangely quiet during that conversation.