Jake didn’t bother knocking when he walked into his parents’ house. He could smell baked chicken coming from the kitchen and followed the scent. Charlotte was leaning over the oven, carefully pulling out a dish.
“Smells great,” he said, leaning against the doorway.
Charlotte jumped slightly, nearly dropping the pan. “Goddess, Jacob! Don’t sneak up on an old woman like that.”
“Sorry.” He smirked, clearly not sorry at all. “And don’t call yourself old.”
“I have two grown sons, one of whom is running the pack I live in,” she replied, shaking her head as she pulled off her oven mitts. “I feel quite old, thank you very much.”
“Dad here?” he asked as he moved to the cabinets for plates.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “When you asked to come over, I told him to make himself scarce. I’m not in
