“Auntie Stella loves them, she was kidding. She is going to eat some with you now.”

“Auntie Stella has to go to work since your daddy stuck me on the night shift while our manager called out.”

“How convenient that you have to leave so soon,” I say with a grin.

“Isn’t it? I love how that works out. But, anyway, was everything good at the Park Inn?”

The Park Inn is our flagship bed and breakfast as well as one of the top destinations. The way my father designed the building was smart. Instead of making the land curve to the structure, it seems as though the inn was formed from the mountain. It sits perfectly, giving the guests unobstructed views of the trees, sky, and nature.

“It was fine. The couple in room five was moved to eight because they didn’t want the view of the right side of the mountain. Other than that, it was a quiet day.”

Stella nods and then reaches for her purse. “Have you talked to Mom?”

“No, you do that so I don’t have to.”

“Yeah right. I’m sure you’ll have no choice when she picks up Melia this week. She said that Dad is visiting Oliver this week and then will check on Joshua in New Orleans after that.”

“And I care because?”

“Because that means we have two weeks where she’s going to be up our asses and we’ll have to entertain her. I dealt with it the last time he traveled, so you’re it this time.”

My mother is a brilliant, strong, and fierce women—as long as my father is by her side. When he’s gone, she wilts.

She also pretends that his trips aren’t to visit his mistresses that he has all around the properties he owns. It’s too bad his kids don’t have the same ability. Even if we don’t discuss it around her, my father is well aware that we know and how we feel about it.

“When does Josh come back home for a visit?”

Stella shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

“Hell is a bad word,” Amelia cuts in.

“Yes, it is. We’re going to have to wash Aunt Stella’s mouth out with soap.”

Amelia nods. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m sorry, Melia, I won’t say it again.”

“Okay.” Amelia forgives her without pause.

“Now, I have to go to work, you need to feed your child something that has nutritional value, and I’ll see you tomorrow . . . at Mom’s.”

I walk her out, not commenting on that last part because if I have to see my mother this weekend, I’m not going tomorrow—no matter what threats my sister hangs over my head.

“Thanks again, Stell.”