I had my door open and Joker was at it helping me down when I saw an elderly woman in a pretty dress with perfectly coiffed silver-white hair coming down the walk, smiling.

“He shaved!” she cried in glee.

“Told you,” Joker said under his breath to me.

I smiled.

He got me clear of the door, slammed it, and we took one step before the woman who had to be Mrs. Heely latched on to Joker’s face.

She tugged it down and moved it side to side.

“There it is. The handsome,” she declared.

I loved her instantly.

“Don’t get used to it. Carrie likes the beard,” Joker replied.

My heart lurched and my hand lifted so I could slap his arm.

“Do you want her to dislike me?” I snapped.

Joker pulled away from the grip Mrs. Heely had on him and grinned at me as he slung his arm around her shoulders.

“Mrs. Heely, this is Carrie,” he introduced.

“What a pretty dress,” she remarked, looking me over in a kind rather than sharp way, which was a relief.

“Thanks,” I replied, lifting a hand.

“Oh no,” she said, grabbing it and tugging on it, her look changing entirely. It was still kind but also welcoming and very warm. “We do hugs in this family.”

This family.

Gosh, I was glad Joker had that.

Though, it was strange how she emphasized it.

As Joker dropped his arm from around her, I bent in and hugged her. She hugged me back.

So far so good.

I heard the back door to the truck open and close as we let each other go.

“From Carrie. She works at LeLane’s. She got you the good stuff,” Joker said, holding the bakery box by the string and the bouquet in his other arm her way.

Mrs. Heely threw her hands up. “Too much!” she cried but didn’t hesitate reaching out and snatching both from Joker. She shoved her face in the flowers and said after pulling it out, “I haven’t had flowers in the house in years.”

Okay, that was also good.

I again smiled.

“Come inside. Candy has to see your new look, Carson,” Mrs. Heely stated, then ordered in a bossy mom’s voice, “Let’s go.”

We went (she was giving us the bossy mom), but following her to the house, Joker didn’t grab my hand. He slid his arm around my shoulders and guided us in.

When we got in, I found I was right. The place was tiny. And made more so by a bunch of furniture that used to be in a much bigger living room stuffed in, not to mention the large, good-looking man, his beautiful wife, and their three kids who were occupying it.

We barely were through the door with Joker closing it behind us before the man took one look at me and strangely burst into gales of laughter.

I went stiff.

Joker felt it.

“Something funny, brother?” he asked with low warning.