Chapter 5: The Invitation
The kitchen smelled of garlic and the last of the evening's cooking. Jimmy dropped his bag by the door and found Kate and Sarah at the table, two mugs between them, steam curling up in the warm light. Neither spoke. They watched him cross the room, and the silence had a weight to it that made his stomach tighten.
"Hey," he said, pulling out a chair. "Everything okay?"
Kate reached across and took his hand. Her fingers were warm, steady. "We need to talk to you about something, sweetheart. Something important."
Jimmy looked from Kate to Sarah. Sarah's eyes were bright, almost eager, and that made him more nervous than if she'd looked guilty.
"What kind of important?"
"Sarah's son. Jeffrey." Kate's thumb traced a slow circle on his knuckle. "You remember him from the barbecue last summer."
Jimmy nodded. He remembered Jeffrey. Tall, broad-shouldered, that easy laugh. Their mothers had kept them talking by the grill while the burgers sizzled, and Jeffrey had asked him about his major like he actually cared. "Sure. He's in law school now, right? Sarah told me."
Yes," Sarah said. "He's finishing up this year."
Jimmy waited for more. Neither woman spoke. The clock on the wall ticked. He felt the weight of what they weren't saying settle over the table like a blanket.
"What about him?" he asked.
Kate squeezed his hand. "Sarah and I have been talking. About expanding our arrangement. About him."
Jimmy's mouth went dry. He pulled his hand back slowly, the warmth of his mother's fingers still on his skin.
"Wait. You mean, like, bringing him in? Into this?"
"Yes." Sarah leaned forward, her voice low and even. "He's twenty-three. He's never been with anyone who knew what they were doing. The same way you hadn't before Kate taught you."
Jimmy shook his head. "He has a girlfriend. You said so."
"That's not the same thing and you know it." Sarah's eyes held his. "A girlfriend who doesn't know what she wants isn't a teacher. He needs someone to show him the way. The way Kate showed you."
Jimmy stared at the table. The grain of the wood blurred and sharpened again. He thought about the first night in his mother's bedroom, how terrified he'd been, how her hands had guided him through every fumbling moment. He couldn't imagine Jeffrey going through that with anyone else. He couldn't imagine Sarah doing what Kate had done.
"Why me?" he asked. "What does this have to do with me?"
Kate's voice was soft. "Because you're part of this, Jimmy. You're not just my son. You're my partner in this. And we don't make decisions without you."
Jimmy looked at her, at the earnest line of her brow, at Sarah watching him from across the table. The kitchen light caught the gold in Sarah's hair. He thought about the taste of her mouth, the way she'd looked up at him from between his knees.
"Have you talked to him about this?" he asked. "Does he even know?"
Sarah shook her head. "Not yet. That's why we wanted to talk to you first. To see if you were open to it before we reached out to him."
Jimmy let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So I'd be, what? Teaching him? Showing him the ropes?"
"Something like that." Kate's hand found his again. "You'd be there with him. You'd help him feel comfortable. You know what it was like for you."
Jimmy did. The fear, the fumbling, the shame that turned into something else. He thought about how different it would have been if he'd had someone older and gentler to show him the way. He thought about Jeffrey and the way he laughed, and how that laugh might sound in a dark bedroom.
"What if he says no?" Jimmy asked. "What if he freaks out?"
Sarah's smile was slow, almost warm. "Then we respect that and we never bring it up again. But I know my son, Jimmy. I know the way he looks at things he wants." She paused, and her voice dropped lower. "And he looks at you the same way you look at mature women. I've seen it."
Jimmy's pulse jumped. "What does that even mean?"
"It means he's curious. It means he's been thinking about things he hasn't let himself name." Sarah leaned back, arms crossed. "And I think if you helped him name them, he'd be grateful for the rest of his life."
The kitchen settled into quiet. Jimmy traced the edge of his mug, the glaze smooth under his thumb. He thought about the weekend, about the four of them in one bed. He thought about Jeffrey's hands and what they might feel like.
"Okay," he said. "I'm in. If he's in."
Kate's face softened. She rose from her chair and came around the table, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, her lips brushing his temple.
"Thank you, baby. We'll call him tomorrow."
"Next weekend," Sarah said. "We'll invite him over for dinner. See how he reacts in person."
Jimmy nodded, heart hammering. Tomorrow. Next weekend. It was so close. He looked at his mother, then at Sarah, and felt the shape of the future settling around him like a second skin.
Sarah called him in the morning, from the kitchen table with her coffee going cold at her elbow.
She put the phone on speaker. Kate stood by the counter with a dish towel in her hands, not drying anything, just holding it. The first ring filled the room. The second. Then Jeffrey's voice, easy and unhurried, saying his mother's name like a question.
"Jeffrey, honey. It's me." Sarah's tone was light, practiced. "Are you busy?"
"Just walking to the library. What's up?"
"I was thinking about Sunday dinner. Kate's been asking after you." Sarah glanced at Kate, and Kate nodded, slow. "You remember Kate, don't you? Jimmy's mother?"
"Of course I remember Kate." A warmth came into his voice. "Tell her I said hello. She made those ribs last summer, right? I still think about those ribs."
Kate's mouth curved. She leaned against the counter and folded her arms.
"That's her," Sarah said. "She wanted to have you over. Properly, this time. Not standing in her backyard with a plate." She picked at a hangnail. "Jimmy's going to be there too."
There was a pause on the line. The sound of traffic, a horn, then the silence of a quieter street. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion." Sarah's voice was soft as she leaned toward the phone. "Kate and I have been spending a lot of time together. I'd like you to know her better. And Jimmy's a good kid. You two got along."
"He's what, nineteen?"
"Nineteen," Sarah said. "He's more grown than you'd think."
Another pause. Kate watched Sarah's face, the delicate flick of her eyes.
"Sunday," Jeffrey said at last. "What time?"
"Six. Come hungry."
"I can do six." He shifted the phone, and his voice turned a shade wry. "Should I bring something? Are we doing the thing where I show up with a bottle of wine and you tell me I didn't have to?"
Sarah laughed, and Kate felt the knot in her chest loosen a little. "Bring the wine. Kate won't tell you it wasn't necessary, she'll tell you what year it should have been."
"That sounds like her." A door opened and closed behind him, the creak of hinges. "Is Jimmy going to be there the whole night?"
"He lives here now, honey. He'll be here."
"Right. I forgot." His voice had dipped, gone thoughtful. "Okay. Sunday at six. Tell Kate I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll tell her myself." Sarah met Kate's eyes. "She's right here."
"Hey, Kate," Jeffrey said, and the phone carried it into the room warm and close.
"Hello, Jeffrey." Kate kept her tone even. "Bring the good wine. And don't wear that shirt with the stain."
He laughed outright, surprised. "How do you know about that shirt?"
"Your mother tells me things."
"I'm going to have to have a talk with her."
Sarah ended the call with a promise to send the address again and a reminder about the wine. When the screen went dark she set the phone down slowly, like it might startle, and let out a long breath.
"He didn't ask why," she said.
Kate set the towel down. "He asked if Jimmy would be there."
"I noticed." Sarah pushed her coffee away, untouched. "He's never once asked what a dinner was for before. He just says yes and shows up late."
From the hallway came the sound of a chair scraping and Jimmy's footfalls on the stairs. He appeared in the doorway with his hair wet and his bag already over one shoulder, and he stopped when he saw their faces.
"Well?"
"He said yes," Sarah said.
Jimmy's grip on his bag strap tightened. He looked at Kate, and she saw the nervousness there, and under it something else, something that leaned forward.
"He asked if you'd be there the whole night," Kate said. "You, specifically."
Jimmy laughed once, short and disbelieving, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. He asked about my major last summer for twenty minutes. I thought he was being polite."
"He wasn't being polite." Sarah stood and carried her mug to the sink. "He's going to walk in that door on Sunday and look at you, and you'll understand it then."
Kate crossed to her son and straightened the collar of his shirt, her fingers slow against his neck. He didn't pull away. "You nervous?"
"A little." He swallowed. "He's older than me. And he's, I don't know. Confident. He'll laugh at me."
"Nobody's going to laugh at you," Kate said. "Sunday, we eat. We drink the wine he brings. We let him get comfortable. Nothing happens unless he wants it to, and you'll know if he wants it."
Jimmy nodded. His eyes went to the clock above the door and he swore softly, ducking back into the hallway for his shoes.
"Sunday," Sarah said after the front door had slammed. She turned from the sink, and there was a color in her cheeks that hadn't been there before. "Do you know what the worst part is? I have to look at my own son across that table and act like I haven't been thinking about him for years."
Kate took Sarah's hand and drew her close, and Sarah's forehead settled against hers.
"Then don't act," Kate said. "Just be careful."
Sarah's fingers curled through Kate's. "Sunday," she said again, and the word sat in the kitchen like something already burning.
The phone buzzed again on the counter. Sarah glanced at the screen and froze. Jeffrey's name lit the display, the same name she'd just hung up on.
"He's calling back," she said.
Kate let go of her. "Pick it up."
Sarah tapped the speaker. "Jeffrey? Did you forget something?"
"I didn't forget anything." His voice had lost its easy warmth. It came through careful and low. "I just, I need to ask you something. And I need you to answer me straight."
Sarah's hand tightened on the counter's edge. "What is it?"
"Is Jimmy going to be there Sunday because he wants to be, or because you and Kate cooked it up together?"
The kitchen went still. Kate's eyes locked onto Sarah's, sharp and unreadable. Sarah opened her mouth and closed it.
"What do you mean by that?" she managed.
"I mean I'm not stupid, Mom. You never call about dinner. You never ask about Kate." A pause, the sound of a street settling into afternoon. "The last time you pushed me toward someone's house it was because you'd already told their mother my whole life story before I walked in."
"That was the Martins, and you were eighteen, and I was being helpful."
"You were being nosy." He let out a breath. "Something's different about this. That's all I'm saying. And I want to know what it is before I show up at someone's door."
Sarah turned her back to the counter. Kate watched her, arms crossed. In the quiet, Sarah made a choice.
"You're right," Sarah said. "Something is different."
The silence on the line stretched so long Sarah checked the screen to make sure he hadn't hung up.
"What kind of different?" Jeffrey asked.
"The kind I should tell you about to your face. Not over the phone." She swallowed. "But I need you to trust me that it's good. That it's something you've thought about, even if you haven't let yourself name it."
"That's a lot to ask."
"I know."
Another pause. Footsteps on pavement, the creak of a gate. "Yesterday," Jeffrey said slowly, "I was in the shower and I couldn't stop thinking about the barbecue. About Jimmy." He laughed once, humorless. "I told myself it was nothing. I don't think it was nothing."
Sarah's breath caught. Kate moved closer, silent, and stood at her shoulder.
"It's not nothing," Sarah said. "And he's thought about you too. I can't promise what happens after that, but I can promise you're not alone in it."
The line was quiet for a long moment. When Jeffrey spoke again his voice had dropped, gone rough at the edges.
"Sunday at six. I'll be there. But I want to talk to Jimmy first. Just him and me, before the wine and the small talk." He paused. "If he's willing."
"I'll tell him."
"Good." A door opened, muffled. "And Mom? Don't tell Kate I'm scared, because I can already hear her smiling."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Sarah ended the call and leaned hard against the counter, eyes shut.
Kate's arms wrapped around her from behind, lips brushing her ear. "He knows."
"He knows something." Sarah's voice shook faintly. "He's going to want to talk to Jimmy alone. Before us. That changes everything."
Kate's hands settled on Sarah's hips. "Or it makes it better. Jimmy can reach him in a way we can't. Boy to boy."
Sarah turned in her arms and looked at her. "And if he tells Jimmy he's not interested? If he backs out?"
"Then we're no worse off than we were," Kate said. "But he said he's been thinking about Jimmy since the barbecue. That's not the sound of a man about to back out."
The front door opened. Jimmy's voice came from the hallway, muffled by a closed door behind him. "Forgot my laptop. In my room. Be right back."
Sarah called out before she could think. "Jimmy. Come here a second."
His footsteps paused, then turned. He appeared in the doorway, keys in one hand, jacket half on. He looked from Sarah's face to Kate's and his own expression shifted.
"What happened?"
Sarah told him. She watched his face go through shock and confusion and a quick, vivid flicker of something else before he landed on steadier ground.
"He wants to talk to me alone," Jimmy repeated.
"Before dinner. Before anything." Sarah's voice was even. "He said he's been thinking about you. Since the barbecue."
Jimmy's jaw worked. He looked at Kate, who gave him nothing, then back at Sarah. A long breath left him.
"Okay," he said. "Sunday. Before six, I'll meet him outside. Look him in the eye, tell him the truth." He tucked his keys into his pocket. "If he walks after that, he walks. But I'm not going to lie to him."
Sarah nodded. "That's all I'm asking for."
Jimmy turned and headed back toward the hall, and the door clicked shut behind him. Kate looked at Sarah with a slow, knowing smile.
"Your plan just grew teeth," she said.
Sarah let out a breath. "I think it just grew a heartbeat."
Sunday came slow and too fast at once. Jimmy spent the morning on his bed staring at the ceiling, then the afternoon on the back porch with a book he never opened. At five he showered and dressed in a button-down that felt too tight in the shoulders, and at ten to six he walked out the front door before Kate could ask if he was ready.
The driveway was empty. The evening air carried the smell of cut grass and the last heat of the day. Jimmy stood by the mailbox with his hands in his pockets and watched the street.
A car turned the corner and slowed. A gray sedan, clean but well used. It pulled into the driveway and the engine cut. Jeffrey sat behind the wheel for a moment, looking out at him through the windshield, then opened the door and stepped out.
He wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, jeans that fit like they'd been worn a hundred times. He looked taller than Jimmy remembered. Broader across the shoulders. He carried a bottle of wine in one hand and a folded jacket in the other, and he studied Jimmy the whole way across the driveway.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." Jimmy's voice came out steady, which surprised him. "You found it."
"GPS." Jeffrey stopped a few feet away. He glanced at the house, the warm windows, then back. "Is this where you want to do this, or do you want to walk?"
Jimmy's pulse thumped. "Walk works."
They went down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, side by side, the wine bottle swinging loose in Jeffrey's grip. The street was quiet, houses settling into evening. For a stretch neither of them spoke.
"You look nervous," Jeffrey said.
"Because I am."
Jeffrey laughed, short and honest. "Good. Me too."
They reached the corner and stopped at the dead end where the neighborhood turned to pasture. Fence posts lined the grass, a horse standing watch at the far edge. Jimmy leaned his elbows on the top rail and looked out at the field. Jeffrey came to rest beside him, setting the wine bottle on the ground.
"He said I'd know if you wanted it." Jimmy kept his eyes on the horse. "She said you'd look at me and I'd understand."
"Did you understand?"
Jimmy turned. Jeffrey was watching him with open, steady focus, the same way he'd looked at him last summer across the grill, only closer now. There was a looseness to his stance, an ease that didn't reach his eyes.
"I understand you've thought about me," Jimmy said. "I understand that's not nothing. It was never nothing for me either."
Jeffrey's jaw worked. He looked down at his hands, then back up. "I'm twenty-three. I've had girlfriends. I've done the thing where you lie in bed next to someone and think about your own mother's best friend's son and tell yourself it's just because he's a decent guy." He pushed a hand through his hair. "It's not something I ever said out loud. Not once."
"And now?"
"Now I'm standing on a back road holding wine I was told to bring to a dinner that might not happen." He picked up the bottle and turned it in his hands. "So I guess you tell me if it's happening."
Jimmy's heart was loud in his ears. He thought about his mother's hands, Sarah's mouth, the way the three of them had fit together in the dark. He thought about how terrified he'd been, and how worth it.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Sure."
"Why'd you want to talk to me before them?"
Jeffrey went quiet. He set the bottle down again and straightened, and when he spoke his voice was lower, rougher. "Because if I'm going to do this, I need to know it's real. Not something you got talked into. Not something she cooked up to make me feel wanted." He stepped closer, close enough that Jimmy could smell soap and the faint heat of his skin. "So I'm asking you straight. Is it real?"
Jimmy looked at him. At the seriousness in his face, the way his hands hung loose at his sides like he'd already decided to accept whatever the answer was.
"It's real," Jimmy said. "I didn't know I wanted it until my mom showed me what it could be. And I didn't know I wanted you until you asked if I'd be there the whole night. Then I wanted it enough to be standing here scared."
Jeffrey's breath came out in a rush. Something in his shoulders eased, unhitched. He took the last step and closed the distance between them and put his hand on the back of Jimmy's neck, warm and sure, and pulled him in.
The kiss was dry at first, careful. Then Jeffrey's mouth softened and opened, and Jimmy's hands came up and grabbed the front of his shirt, and the kiss turned into something real, mouths moving together in the fading light. Jimmy felt the groan go through Jeffrey's chest like a current.
When they broke, they were both breathing hard. Jeffrey kept his hand on Jimmy's neck, thumb brushing the skin there.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay?"
"Yeah." Jeffrey looked past him at the house, the warm windows, the two women waiting inside. "Let's go tell them we're doing this. Then I want to see my mother's face when she realizes I'm not scared of them anymore."
They walked back up the driveway with the wine bottle between them, the evening settling into blue around the house. Jeffrey's hand brushed Jimmy's once at the gate, light and deliberate, and neither said anything about it.
Kate met them at the door. She looked from Jimmy's face to Jeffrey's and her mouth curved into something knowing and slow. Sarah appeared behind her, and the two women stood in the warm spill of the kitchen light, watching the boys come in.
"Did you two work it out?" Sarah asked.
"We did," Jeffrey said. He set the bottle on the counter and kept his eyes on Kate. "I'm in. But I want to know what I'm getting into before I say anything else."
Kate crossed her arms. "You already know what you're getting into. Jimmy told you the truth. That's all you asked for."
Jeffrey glanced at Jimmy, then back at Kate. "There's something you haven't told me. I can feel it."
Kate's smile sharpened at the edges. She walked around the counter and stopped in front of him, close enough that he had to look down at her. Her hand came up and settled on his chest, flat over his heart, and she felt it jump under her palm.
"Sarah made me a promise when we started this," Kate said. "She agreed to rules. My rules. And they kept things from getting complicated." Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. "Now you're here, and you're her son, and you're Jimmy's friend. That's two bonds that run through other people before they reach me. So I'm making a new rule for you, Jeffrey. Just for you."
Jeffrey's throat worked. "What rule?"
"You come through me first."
The kitchen went still. Sarah's hand paused on the counter. Jimmy watched his mother with wide eyes.
"Anything you want from Jimmy, anything you want from Sarah, you ask me first," Kate said. "You don't go around me. You don't go behind me. If you want something, you bring it to me, and I decide if it happens." She tilted her head. "Jimmy learned that. Sarah learned that. Can you learn it?"
Jeffrey's breath came slow and even. He looked down at Kate's hand on his chest, then up at her face. Her eyes were dark and steady in the kitchen light.
"What if I want something you won't give?" he asked.
"Then you'll have asked. That's the part that matters."
A long silence stretched between them. Then Jeffrey's hand came up and closed over hers, pressing her palm harder against his heart.
"I can learn it," he said.
Kate's smile spread, slow and genuine. She withdrew her hand and stepped back, and the tension in the room eased a fraction.
"Good," she said. "Then dinner's ready. Sarah made lasagna, and I made the salad you're going to pretend to enjoy." She turned toward the stove and looked back over her shoulder. "And after dinner, we'll talk about what your first lesson is going to be."
Jeffrey looked at Jimmy. Jimmy gave him a small, crooked smile and touched his shoulder as he passed, heading for the table.
"Relax," Jimmy murmured. "The first time's just the first time. You'll survive it."
Sarah came up and kissed her son's cheek, her hand lingering on his arm. "Welcome to the family, honey. Such as it is."
Kate set the lasagna on the table and pulled out her chair. The five of them arranged themselves around the plates, and for a moment they sat in the warm quiet, the food steaming, the wine waiting beside the stove.
Then Kate raised her glass.
"To new rules," she said. "And to the people brave enough to keep them."
Kate set down her glass. The wine had barely touched it, a dark ring at the bottom. She looked across the table at Jeffrey, at Jimmy, at Sarah, and the quiet that settled over them had a different texture now, something heavier than comfort.
"There's more," she said. "Before we eat."
Sarah's hand paused on her fork. "Kate."
"I'm not asking for permission." Kate's voice stayed low, even. "I'm telling you where this is going. Because you asked, Jeffrey. You asked what you're getting into, and I haven't answered you."
Jeffrey's face went still. "Then answer."
Kate leaned forward. Her elbows found the table, and she let the silence stretch until every eye in the room was on her. The steam from the lasagna curled up between the plates.
"Sarah moved in with me. Jimmy lives here. You're her son, and you're about to become part of this more deeply than any of us have said out loud." She folded her hands. "I'm not interested in a weekend arrangement. I'm not interested in something we keep in my bedroom and close the door on in the morning. I want a household."
Jimmy cocked his head. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means you both move in here full time. Jeffrey, you finish your semester and you bring your things before summer. Jimmy, you're already here. Sarah and I have been talking about selling both our houses and buying a property with more room, somewhere we can build what we're building without neighbors hearing through the walls." She let that sit. "We'd be one family. The four of us. Not a secret. Not a phase. A family."
Sarah's face had gone carefully blank. She hadn't known all of this. Jeffrey watched his mother, then Kate, then back.
"You're serious," he said. "You're talking about us living together. The four of us."
"Yes."
"You're talking about a household where I'm sleeping with my mother, her best friend, and her son. And you want that to be a permanent thing."
"I want that to be the foundation." Kate's voice was quiet, sure. "Jimmy and I have something real. Sarah and I have something real. You're the variable, Jeffrey. You're the one who could make it a home or make it a mistake. That's why I gave you my rule. That's why you come through me first. Because I need to know you can be trusted with the shape of this before I let you into the center of it."
Jeffrey stared at her. The kitchen light caught the faint tremor in his jaw.
"Let me understand," he said. "You want me to move in with my mother's girlfriend. Sleep in her house. Follow her rules. And pay her rent or what?"
"No rent." Kate's mouth curved. "But you'll contribute. Groceries, repairs, the parts of life that need doing. And you'll answer to me the way Jimmy does, the way Sarah does. When it matters."
Sarah finally spoke. Her voice came out thin. "You've been planning this without me?"
"I've been thinking it. You've been thinking about Jeffrey for years. I've been thinking about all of it." Kate reached over and took Sarah's hand, still steady, still warm. "Not against you. Ahead of you. There's a difference."
The table held its breath. Jimmy looked at Jeffrey, and Jeffrey looked at the lasagna, and the silence went on just long enough that Kate let go of Sarah's hand and picked up the serving spoon.
"We'll talk about it fully," she said. "After dinner. After you've had a chance to feel what it would be like, the four of us sitting at this table with nowhere else to go." She scooped lasagna onto Jeffrey's plate, then Jimmy's, then her own. "But I wanted you to hear it from me first. From the one who's in charge. So there's no confusion about what you're agreeing to when you agree to me."
The lasagna sat steaming on the plates, but nobody moved for it. Jeffrey kept his eyes on Kate, and she met them, unblinking.
"One thing before we eat," Sarah said, and the table turned to her. She set her fork down and looked at her son across the steam and the plates. "Kate's told you the shape of it. The house, the rules, all of that. But she hasn't told you what I want you for."
Jeffrey's brows drew together. "I thought we covered that."
"No. We covered what Kate wants. I haven't said what I need." Sarah's voice was steady, and it had a heat in it that Jimmy recognized from the bedroom. "I've been watching you, Jeffrey. For years. Telling myself you were just my boy. That the way I felt was mother-love gone sideways."
Jeffrey's face went careful. "Mom."
"Don't." Sarah raised a hand. "You came here because you wanted something. You told Jimmy that on the road. Now I'm telling you the same thing straight. I want you in that bed with us. I want you to be part of this the way Jimmy is. Not as my son visiting for the weekend. As mine."
Kate's mouth curved. She said nothing.
The kitchen held its breath. Jeffrey stared at his mother, and the silence stretched until he let out a slow breath.
"You want me to sleep with you. And Kate. And Jimmy."
"Yes." Sarah didn't flinch. "Tonight, if you're ready. I've watched Jimmy learn since he got here. He was terrified his first night and he left that room a man who knew what he wanted. I want that for you. I want to teach you the way Kate taught him, and I want to taste you the way I've dreamed about tasting you."
Jeffrey's throat worked. His eyes flicked to Jimmy, then back to Sarah, and something in his face shifted, loosened.
"And rule-wise? Kate's rule?"
"Still stands. She comes first. But this is my ask. My invitation." Sarah leaned forward, her voice dropping low. "When I look at you, I don't see a law student. I see the man I'd have picked if you weren't my son. And I'm done pretending otherwise."
The table went quiet. Jimmy watched Jeffrey's hands, the way they'd gone still on the tablecloth, the knuckles white.
"Tonight," Jeffrey said. Not a question.
"If you want it."
Jeffrey looked at Kate, who nodded slow. Then at Jimmy, who gave him a small, crooked smile. He turned back to Sarah, and his voice came out rough at the edges.
"I want it."
Sarah's breath caught. She rose from her chair, came around the table, and took her son's face in both hands. She kissed him, slow and open-mouthed, right there in the kitchen light, and Jimmy heard Jeffrey groan into her mouth.
Kate watched with her chin in her hand. "Good," she said. "Then eat your dinner, and after we clear the plates, we'll show you what happens to boys who say yes."