15
There were no more texts from Tom. I was startled when Julian called me again, so I stumbled up the stairs too quickly, then squawked as I tripped and my injured leg hit a step. When I finally arrived in the kitchen, Julian looked at me with concern. He apologized for summoning me and asked if I was okay.
“I’m fine. Just clumsy.”
“The boys are showering,” he said.
“Again?”
“Teenagers,” he said, as if this explained everything. “Maybe they’re figuring there will be girls at church. Anyway, I didn’t think you would want to miss seeing them.”
“I don’t. Thanks for hollering.”
Boyd and Armstrong were at the sink washing their dishes. They lauded Julian’s omelets and said they didn’t know you could make your own picante sauce.
Julian, embarrassed by the praise, interrupted them. “Boss
