Jenks landed on her offered hand, wings glowing a satisfied pink. “Yes, ma’am. My son, Jax, would be delighted to work your yard. He and my two eldest daughters would be enough to keep the fairies out. I’ll send them tomorrow before sunup if you like. By the time you have your first cup of coffee, there won’t be a fairy in sight.”

“Marvelous!” my mother exclaimed. “Those damn bastards have been in my yard all summer. Drove my wrens away.”

Nick started at the foul word coming from such a mild-looking lady, and I shrugged.

Jenks flew an arching path from the back door to me in an unspoken request for me to open it. “If you don’t mind,” he said, hovering by the knob, “I’ll just nip out and take a look. I don’t want them running into anything unexpected. He’s just a boy, and I want to be sure he knows what to watch out for.”

“Excellent idea,” my mother said, her heels clacking on the white linoleum. She flicked on the back light and let him out. “Well!” she said as she turned, eyeing Nick. “Sit down, please. Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? I think I have a beer somewhere.”

“Coffee would be great, Mrs. Morgan,” Nick said as he pulled a chair from under the table and lowered himself into it. I opened the fridge for the coffee, and my mom took the bag of grounds out of my hands, fussing with soft mother sounds until I sat beside Nick. The scraping of my chair was loud, and I wished she wasn’t making such a fuss. Nick grinned, clearly enjoying my disquiet.

“Coffee,” she said as she puttered about. “I admire a man who likes coffee with lunch. You have no idea how glad I am to meet you, Nick. It’s been so long since Rachel brought a boy home. Even in high school she wasn’t much for dating. I was starting to wonder if she was going to lean the other way, if you know what I mean.”

“Mom!” I exclaimed, feeling my face go as red as my hair.

She blinked at me. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she amended, scooping out the grounds and filling the filter. I couldn’t look at Nick, hearing the amusement in him as he cleared his throat. I put my elbows on the table and dropped my head into my hands.

“But you know me,” my mother added, her back to us as she put the coffee away. I cringed, waiting for whatever was going to come out of her mouth. “I’m of the mind that it’s better to have no man than the wrong one. Your father, now, he was the right man.”

Sighing, I looked up. If she was talking about Dad, she wouldn’t be talking about me.