I closed the door behind us and began taking off my shoes.

A woman came around the corner. She wore an apron and a red baking mitt on her hand. Tucker followed her and danced at her feet. She had brown hair pulled into a loose bun and soft hazel eyes. She gave Jason a sweet-looking scowl. “Jason! Why didn’t you call me and tell me how late you were going to be?” she asked, looking more worried than pissed, as David had put it.

The entry of the house was a small room with coat hooks on the walls and a single step up into the hallway. Jason’s mom stood on the step with her hands on her hips, still looking up at Jason despite the elevation. She put the hand with the mitt on his shoulder as he kissed her hello. Her eyes met mine over his back and she beamed at me.

“Mom, I said we were landing at one. I told you I’d make it by dinner. And you know I never get a signal on Highway One.”

“Never mind,” she said, waving him off. “I want to meet Sloan now. I’ll deal with you later.”

Jason turned to me, amusement on his face. “Mom, this is Sloan. Sloan, this is my mom, Patricia.”

Having done his duty as far as introductions, Jason edged past his mother with his bundle of wood, leaving us to each other.

Patricia came down the step to greet me, her eyes alight. “Oh, you’re beautiful,” she said, giving me a hug. “Thank God I have another woman here this weekend. We’re outnumbered.” She held me out by the arms and smiled at me warmly. “Can you believe I never had a daughter? Just me and all these men.”

“I bet they can eat,” I said.

“Feeding them is a full-time job.” She laughed. “Come on, let’s go in. I was so excited when Jason said you were coming. I felt like I was getting a visitor just for me. The boys will be doing their own thing for most of the weekend, they always do.” She led me into the house.

The home was thoughtfully decorated, with soft area rugs over the wood floors. The living room we passed was comfortable and rustic. A fire crackled in the fireplace and a deer head was mounted above the mantel. A huge bay window overlooked a lake.

Jason and David were already in the kitchen when we got there.

A man stood over the sink doing dishes. When he looked up, I knew exactly who he was. He looked like an older version of Jason. His beard and hair were salt and pepper, but his eyes were the same clear blue as his son’s.

“Dad, this is Sloan,” Jason said. “Sloan, this is my dad, Paul.”

I was expecting a hand, but I got a hug and a kiss on the cheek instead. It took me by surprise. Jason grinned at me over Paul’s shoulder.

Paul smiled at me. “We’ve heard so much about you, Sloan. The Huntsman’s Wife! Very impressive. We’ve eaten a lot of your food over the years.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” I replied, flustered by the familiar welcome. What was up with Larsen men and flustering?

“And what do you think of our state?” Paul asked.

“It’s beautiful. I see why Jason sings about it.”

Paul smiled at his son approvingly.

David sat in a chair at the table and Jason hovered over a pot, holding the lid.

“What are we having?” he asked, picking up a spoon and tasting the contents.

“Swedish meatballs.” Patricia hit him with her baking mitt. “Get out of there,” she said, running him off.

I smiled.

“Something to drink?” Jason asked me.

“No, thank you. You want help?” I asked Patricia, joining her by the stove. Jason smiled at me and grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to sit with his brother.

“Would you mind chopping some parsley?” she asked, pointing to a cutting board. “It’s in the crisper drawer.”

I dove right in, tying up my hair and washing my hands. I searched the fridge for the parsley and dug around for a knife and began to chop. Patricia looked on approvingly. I faced the brothers as I worked, while Patricia moved around behind me, dropping meatballs into a frying pan.

“Dad wants help putting the dock out tomorrow,” David said to Jason.

“Already?” Jason asked, opening his beer.

Paul spoke over his dishes. “Ice is gone. Been warm this year.”

“How’s the dock?” Jason asked.

David looked over at his parents, whose backs were turned, and mouthed, “Fucked up.”

“The dock is fine. Just needs patching,” Paul said, not turning away from his dishes.

“Hey,” David said, “Jason and I both offered to get you guys a new dock. One with wheels. That you can roll. That doesn’t splinter.”

Jason tossed his bottle cap at his brother. It hit David on the chest and he produced a stoic middle finger. I laughed to myself.

“You know your dad,” Patricia said, not turning around. “He doesn’t like to get new things if what he has can be repaired. And that’s what he’s got two sons for.”

“It’s fine, Mom. We’ll get her out. We always do,” Jason said. “What else needs to be done around here?”

Paul rattled off a list of projects. I saw what Patricia meant about the boys doing their own thing. They were here to work. That was fine by me. I wanted to get to know Patricia better anyway. I wanted naked baby pictures of Jason before this weekend was out.