She’s watching me with the look that mommas get, like they can see right through you and know everything you’ve ever done in your entire existence and even some things you’ve only thought of.

“I think Martha’s overly protective,” she says after a moment passes. “But you know, that girl has a lot of ups and downs. Hot and cold. Skittish as a beat colt. Never able to handle any stress or hard changes. She’s been that way since she was little and she ain’t gonna change. Tom wasn’t around enough. I know it’s helped them financially, but it took a toll on Abby.”

Uncomfortable with talking about Abby and keeping our breakup a secret, I change the subject and walk with her back up to the house. “Did Annabel already get her things?”

“She came by yesterday. I know you kids are upset about us moving, but it’s time.”

“I know. I wish I could help you more.”

“Your sister said the same thing.” Her smile is fond and a little weepy around the edges. “You kids are the best thing I ever did. You can help me by doing good in school and making sure you call me every Sunday. And you and Annabel can come visit us in Florida. Grandma’s house is walking distance to the beach.”

I nod and agree and give her a hug. God, she feels so tiny in my arms. What will it be like when she’s gone?

By the time I get back to Jude’s, it’s nearly time for supper.

I find all of my roommates in the kitchen, Jude at the stove. Reese is next to him, chopping something at the counter. It should have been Reese’s night to cook, but since we went to Granny’s last night, she switched with Jude. It appears she’s still helping though.

“Fitz!” Jude bellows as soon as I enter the kitchen. “You are in for a treat tonight. I’m making Jude Parker’s famous chili.”

“Sounds great.”

“There will be plenty since Ms. Reese here already ate dinner and will not be partaking with the rest of us. You can tell her how much she’s missing out on.”

Reese rolls her eyes. Jude holds out his hand and she passes him a large spoon.

He stirs the pot and eyes me out of the corner of his eyes. “A little birdie told me our little Tootsie Roll here went to dinner with a Mr. Duke Wilson.”

Her cheeks flush and she busies herself with cleaning something in the sink.

“Duke?” I ask, instead of what I really want to ask, which is, Who the hell is Duke? And why is she blushing over him?

And why am I suddenly punchy about Reese eating dinner with some guy?

“Well, babies.” Jude puts a lid on the pot and wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes and people are gonna be arriving shortly thereafter. Time for me to get beautiful.”