“Sevenish is seven, right?” Brent asked.

She laughed. “If I said no, then what? You’re late? Too early?”

“Regardless, I’m here, and I brought this.” He held up a bottle of wine. “Red.”

“Perfect, it’s beef night,” she said, and took the bottle from him. “We’re eating in the kitchen. Family-style,” she said. They always had their meals in the kitchen, except on holidays. Then she and her mother would decorate the formal dining room, and she really enjoyed those occasions. It was akin to playing dress-up, only rather than clothing, they used the many cherished decorations that had been handed down from one generation to the next, plus each year they chose a few pieces from the local artisans and added them to their collection. Lauren enjoyed the prep, and the big finale, the meals that she’d had a hand in preparing.

“Ilene, Al,” Brent said as he entered the kitchen. “Thanks for the invite. It smells awesome.”

Lauren spoke up. “It does. Here, I’ll chill this,” she said, placing the bottle of wine in the bottom section of the new high-tech refrigerator that would cool the wine to a perfect temperature within minutes. She could remember what it had taken to convince her parents that if they had to get a new refrigerator when the old one gave up the ghost, it should be something with the convenient features their old one had lacked. She sometimes thought that, given their own way, they would have settled for a nineteenth-century icebox.

“I’m glad you came, Brent,” her dad said. “These two, well, they are about to step on my last nerve with all the attention I get.” Her father laughed. “Nice to have another man in the picture.” Her dad winked at her. He seemed to forget she wasn’t sixteen anymore.

Brent took four wineglasses from the cupboard, just one more detail that made him feel like family. A brother. “You all okay with a sip of wine?” he asked as he placed a goblet in front of each place setting.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “We’re all of legal age, Sheriff,” she replied.

“Of course you are,” he said. “It wouldn’t help my reputation if word got out that I was serving minors.”

Lauren thought the comment a bit off and decided to go with it. “Is there much underage drinking these days? Here, in the paradise of Fallen Springs,” she added.

After her mother filled bowls with mashed potatoes and green beans, Lauren placed them on the table.

“It’s everywhere, unfortunately, Fallen Springs included. Sadly, it’s not always booze that attracts kids these days. Now we’ve got meth, opioids, pot, you name it. Alcohol is too easy to come by now.”

“Here? In Fallen Springs?” her father asked. “Surely not. We’ve always held our youth to the highest standards.”

Lauren couldn’t believe how old-fashioned he was! He wasn’t even that old himself. His ideas were so antiquated that she wanted to shake some sense into him. Not now. Let Brent tell him what the real world is like, and here in Fallen Springs, too. He would be more likely to listen if it came from Brent.