Chapter 12

Both stood, tense. Ten seconds ticked by, twenty. April sagged as Dean slumped. They blinked at each other. Well, this was…comical. Her lips twitched.

“I don’t know which of us is crazier, me or my brother. Come on in and let’s talk.”

A better than hoped for reaction. Without hesitation, he followed her into the kitchen, resisting the urge to skip or roll over for a forgiving pat. He’d give and do almost anything to make things right again.

“You want tea? Coffee?”

“Don’t suppose you have a beer or something stronger?”

April slanted her head.

“Tea will be fine. I don’t need alcohol. Just something, you know, to dull the…” Dull what? Pain? Embarrassment? Every emotion?

“Well, sit.”

The dog he was, obeyed.

“We can have tea, and I guess you can stay for dinner if you want. Pasta, There’s plenty for two. I’m making fresh sauce.”

Though not much of a cook, April made a great pasta sauce from fresh ingredients, even grew her own herbs on the balcony of the small flat.