The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3 by Barbara Meyers Read Free Book Online

living room with its comfortable furniture to the kitchen, where his mother was at the stove, dishing up food.
    Lynn turned and her face lit up. She set down the spoon and the bowl and hugged him.
    His mom was all soft curves. He dwarfed her, but she didn’t seem to mind. When they separated she smiled up at him. “How’s my boy?”
    “I’m good, Mom. It’s good to be home.”
    His father stomped in from the mudroom off the kitchen. They eyed each other for a moment. Trey stuck out his hand. “Dad. How are you doing?”
    Did he imagine it or did his dad take his hand reluctantly? He knew there’d be no hugs. There never had been. Dad was tough. Cold. Hard. Where his mom was soft, his dad was all sharp angles. Maybe that’s why they were still together. Each made up for what the other one lacked. Not just physically, but in personality. His mom’s warmth somehow balanced his father’s sternness.
    “Glad you could finally make it,” Andy said. Trey wasn’t going to apologize. His mom was okay with it, and she was the one cooking dinner, wasn’t she?
    “Me too,” he answered. He turned back to his mother. “Can I help? Want me to put those on the table?” He nodded toward the bowls and platters.
    “Yes. Here. You take these.” She thrust the platter of sliced chicken at his dad. “Andy, if you wouldn’t mind.” If Trey remembered right, his father wasn’t usually expected to help with dinner preparation or clean up afterward. But Andy took the platter and followed Trey to the table in silence.
    “I poured iced tea for everyone,” she informed Trey as she set a basket of biscuits next to him. “But if you’d like something else…”
    “Tea’s fine, Mom. Everything looks good.”
    “Well, then.” She reached for his hand. Trey reached for his father’s. For as long as he could remember, they’d always done this when the three of them were at the table about to share a meal together. They joined hands and his mother offered a simple blessing and thanks for food and family. Andy clasped his fingers around Trey’s whether he wanted to or not. He might be the tough one, but Trey had no illusions as to who was in charge around this house. Their tactics might differ, but Lynn had a way of bringing Andy around to her way of thinking that still amazed Trey. She also knew how to soothe his temper and make him see reason when the situation called for it.
    As they passed bowls and Trey filled his plate, he wondered if she’d had to do that today, so his father would agree to sit at the same table with him for a family meal.
    His mother hadn’t held any of his transgressions against him, even though he knew he’d hurt her with his careless behavior. She’d told him one of the hardest things was to see how much damage he’d done to himself, watching his life fall apart when she’d been powerless to stop it.
    Moms, he guessed, loved their kids no matter what.
    He supposed his father still loved him too, but he didn’t forgive and forget easily. Trey didn’t know what else to do except get in his father’s face on a regular basis, get him used to having his son around again and see if they couldn’t find some of the common footing they’d lost these past couple of years.
    “Heard you got pulled over last night,” his father began once they’d started eating.
    His mother’s fork clattered to her plate. “Oh, Trey, you didn’t.”
    “Speeding, Mom. It was no big deal.”
    “Thought they cited you for DUI too,” his dad put in. “And a couple other charges.”
    “It wasn’t for DUI, and it was all bogus, Dad, except for the speeding ticket. A bunch of bullsh—” He glanced at his mom. “BS. This cop Spoley has a hard—er, is overly zealous. Probably has a quota or something.”
    “Trey you weren’t—you weren’t—”
    Trey saw the distress in his mother’s eyes. He hated that expression, hated to be the one who caused it. “No, Mom. I wasn’t drinking. I don’t drink. I don’t