Page 84 of The Patron Saint of Timber Hollow

Saint brings out the only thing not yet placed on the table, the meat, just as I place my mother's wine glass in front of her.

"Oh,fancy pantsice, hmm?" She hums, examining the large globe.

"It'll chill your wine for longer than the small chips," I reply, going to sit next to Jay. Immediately, his hand is on my thigh, thumb circling softly on the silk skirt. It's a welcome comfort, and I greedily savor the warmth of his hand.

"Thank you all for coming," Jay says as Saint places the platter down.

"Yeah, it means a lot to me," I add, looking at my friends, Aggie, and eventually my mom. It is the truth, even if it ismoretrue for some than others.

"I don't like to stand on ceremony, folks. Dig in. Take as much as you want. Please, don't be shy." Saint says as he pulls his chair out and sits beside me, hand trailing down my arm.

Of course, Sam wastes no time piling food on her plate and helping Aggie do the same without her ever actually asking for it. "Don't have to tell me twice, Blondie," my friend says, passing food down the table until everyone has a full plate.

And,family dinnerbegins.

About fifteen minutes pass, with most of the conversation dominated by food–Daisy apparently is a big fan of Saint's recipes.

And then, my mom asks, "So Artemis tells me that you boys designed the place?" while slicing her meat with a knife.

"Yes, Dante drew up most of the design, but we planned it together. The window seat for Artemis was a last-minute addition we couldn't imagine the house without, though," Jay answers, knocking knees with me. I tuck my ankle under his calf, thankful for his support.

"I knew she couldn't have done it," my mom hums thoughtfully, looking around at the house. "Designed something this nice, I mean," my darling mother adds, just in case anyone missed it.

Immediately, My grip is on the boy's legs, squeezing, and I'm shaking my head softly at Sam down the table.

Do not react.

"Well, from what I hear, Artemis makes this place feel like ahome, not just a house. That has to count for something." Aggie says, shooting my mother a disapproving look over the rim of her glass.

"So, where's Apollo these days?" Ivy asks, diverting the focus to her end of the table as she takes a bite of salad. I give her a soft smile in thanks.

"Oh, he is actually on his way home! He's finished all his studying. My boy has his Masters degree!" My mom gushes, and for one shining moment, Athena and I share an eye roll.

Just like we used to.

"What's he studying?" Saint asks, but he hasn't eaten since mom made her jab.

"Greek studies!" she exclaims. "You'll have to get Apollo to speak in Greek; he's fluent now!"

"He did not!"I choke out between laughs, overcome with the absurdity. My brotherApollogot his master's in Greek studies.

"Don't say it like that! He's done so well in his studies. I'm very proud."

"Oh, well, it will be good to see him again," Ivy says, smiling like a bird who's caught the canary.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," I begin, stabbing a sprout with thinly veiled violence. I'm ready for the dessert course and to get everyone the fuck out of my house.

"Oh, yeah, last time he was in town, we had a bit of a fling. Aggie introduced me," Ivy says, giving Aggie a toast with her glass of white wine.

"I cannot fathom what you and my brother have in common," I chuckle, watching Dante's knuckles tighten on his silverware.

"I'll let you know when I see him again," Ivy says smugly, turning to my mom again. "When did you say he was arriving?"

Dante's fork hits his plate with a clatter.

My mom, dear Darla, as oblivious as ever, charges ahead. "In a few weeks! He's traveling here with some friends."

Other than the few passive-aggressive jabs my mom has already made at me, the rest of dinner is fine—ordinary, perfect even—until she's drunk the whole bottle of wine she brought while only picking at her plate.