I forced my lips to move in order to assure him, “I have enough food.”

“Great,” he replied.

I stood there.

They stood there too.

Then I realized I was standing there and that was rude so I turned my eyes to Amber.

“Hello, Amber. I’m Josephine. It’s lovely to meet you.”

She glared at me and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Babe,” Jake clipped at his daughter in a clear warning.

Her baleful eyes cut to him then back to me whereupon she mumbled, “’Lo.”

I decided to leave it at that and looked down to the boy.

“Hello, Ethan.”

He stared up at me for two seconds then bizarrely surged forward, threw himself bodily at me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing close.

I’d never had a child hug me. I’d never even had a child touch me. Therefore I didn’t know what to do and thus stood there with my hands slightly raised, staring down at his dark head hoping I wasn’t doing it in horror.

He didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t return his embrace. As quickly as he came forward, he released me, jumped back and looked up at me.

“Lydie talked about you all the time,” he announced.

That felt lovely, very lovely, but even so, I wished I could say the same.

However, I didn’t get to the chance to say anything because he kept speaking.

“You’re way prettier than she said and all your pictures.”

At least that was nice.

I decided a return compliment was in order so I gave him one.

“And you’re quite handsome.”

He grinned a grin I had to admit was rather adorable.

“Yeah. I know. Look like Dad and he’s the hottest dude in town,” he declared.

This was likely not in error.

“He is not,” Amber put in at this point, shoving forward and doing it grabbing her brother and taking him with her as they pushed past me. “Mickey’s way hotter than Dad. And Coert might be even hotter”

“Are not,” Ethan returned as they moved into the house.

“Are so,” she retorted. “And everyone knows Boston Stone is Magdalene’s most eligible bachelor.”

To that, I would disagree. Mr. Stone may be wealthy but money was not everything.

“Boston Stone may be loaded, Amber, but he’s not all that. And anyway, his name is retarded,” Ethan shot back.

I would use a less offensive adjective but it seemed Ethan and I were of like minds.

“Josie.” I heard murmured from close.

I started and looked up just in time to see that Jake was close. Very close. Close enough to curve his fingers around my hip, lean in and brush his lips against my cheek.

Oh my.

Again, he smelled very nice, his scent assaulting my senses in a way that was far from unpleasant.

He pulled back and as he did so, I attempted to pull myself together. However, this was difficult seeing as, in the dim light of the foyer, his eyes had again changed color. They appeared now to be an inky blue.

With effort, I took my thoughts from his mercurial eye color and greeted, “Hello, Jake.”

He grinned.

Then he used his hand on my hip to shove me gently in the house before he let me go to close the door.

When I just stood there staring up at him, he tipped his head toward the house as an indication we should enter it and I decided to stop making an idiot of myself and get moving.

This I did, hurrying down the hall toward the kitchen.

The instant I hit the room, Ethan turned his eyes to me and exclaimed, “It smells boss!”

“Jesus Christ, it does, Josie,” Jake agreed, coming to a stop beside me. “Wasn’t hungry, smell that smell, now I’m starved.”

I had no idea why but their comments made me feel suddenly very warm.

“It smells like meat,” Amber oddly declared and I looked to her.

“It smells like a lotta shit, Amber, but not meat,” Jake replied.

She ignored her father, looked to me and announced. “I’m a vegetarian.”

“Yeah, she decided that this morning,” Jake noted at my side.

“Killing animals for human consumption is disgusting,” she informed her father.

“Wonder what killing daughters for bein’ pains in the ass is,” Jake muttered in a voice that could likely only be heard by me and I found his remark so amusing I had to swallow down a laugh.

“Holy crap!” Ethan cried and my eyes shot to him to see he was now standing in the open refrigerator. He slowly turned, pointing inside the fridge, and asked with open wonder, “What is that?”

I looked into the refrigerator then back at Ethan. “It’s a pavlova.”

“It’s a what?” he queried.

“A pavlova. Meringue, cream and strawberries. We’re having it for dessert,” I replied then turned my gaze to Amber. “In your vegetarianism, do you eat eggs?”

“Yes,” Jake answered for his daughter.

“No,” Amber answered for herself at the same time.

“This is unfortunate as meringues are made of egg whites,” I shared with her.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she returned. “I don’t eat dessert. My ass is already fat enough.”

I looked down to her ass and saw she was very wrong.

I didn’t address this mistaken impression of her body, although I had a strange and overwhelming desire to do so. This was partly because I didn’t know what to say. It was mostly because Ethan had taken a blue beverage from the refrigerator that I’d noticed prior and wondered about (thus wondering no longer) and Amber had turned her attention to her brother.

“Get me one of those, runt,” she demanded.

“You want one, don’t call me a runt,” he rejoined.

She gave him a face.

He returned it.

“Grab me a beer, will you, bud?” Jake called, moving deeper into the room.

I moved into it too, stating, “Dinner is almost ready. We’ll be eating shortly as I didn’t want to delay you should you need to get home early in order to take care of the class gerbil or do homework or something.”

“Their homework’s out in the truck, Josie,” Jake told my back.

“And we got a hamster in class, not a gerbil. But I never get to watch him seein’ as I killed the last one when it was my turn to take him home for the weekend,” Ethan also shared this relatively dire information with my back.

I turned to him and the room to see father and son had drinks and Amber’s head was in the fridge.

They seemed comfortable here and I knew they were because they’d been in that kitchen time and time again.

It was still strange.

And it was also strangely welcome.

“Dad said it was his time,” Ethan shared. “Not because I dropped him on his head.”

I blinked.

“He was squirrely. He didn’t want me to hold him and he got his way,” Ethan further explained.

I said nothing.

“Don’t worry, honey, we bought the class another hamster,” Jake assured me.

Before I could reply, Ethan dashed to me and asked, “Can I help with something?”

“Well, you could but most everything is done. I just have to mash the potatoes,” I told him.

“I can so mash potatoes. Lydie taught me how,” he declared.

She’d taught me how too. And knowing she taught him how made me feel even warmer.

I didn’t share this.

“All right then.” I moved to the stove. “Let’s get these drained and get you started.”

“Amber, babe, put another place setting on the table.” I heard Jake order quietly as Ethan shadowed me carrying my pan of boiled potatoes from Aga to sink.

Thus commenced the final preparations for dinner where not only Ethan but everyone got in on the act.

I found in supervising him that Ethan was expert at mashing potatoes.

I also found that Amber knew where everything was and put another place setting on the kitchen table that I’d already prepared (I felt a family dinner should be consumed in the kitchen, not made formal in the dining room, so that was where we were to eat).

Even Jake helped and he did this by ordering Amber to assist with putting the peas, carrots and corn in bowls and working alongside her, putting the warmed rolls in a basket.

When I approached the table with the main dish, all was on it. Jake had even put my wineglass and the bottle of wine I’d opened earlier and began consuming while preparing dinner by my seat at the end.

“Shit, babe, you made meatloaf?”

My alarmed eyes cut to Jake to see him staring at the dish I was arrested in the endeavor of putting it on the table.

He was also smiling which was contradictory to his tone and thus confusing.

“Rosemary meatloaf with a tomato-based sauce,” I told him.

“It…smells…awesome!” Ethan announced, his big eyes on the meatloaf.

“Rosemary meatloaf with a tomato-based sauce,” Jake strangely repeated after me, his gaze moving from the dish to my face.

“Don’t you like meatloaf?” I asked, finally setting the dish on a scrolled-iron hot plate.

“I do,” he replied. “Though, a pretty woman who wears five hundred dollar shoes and two hundred dollar sweaters serving meatloaf is shocking as shit. I thought we’d have to force down coq au vin or something.”

I decided not to inform him that my shoes were six hundred dollars and my sweater four. I also made a mental note, should they come over for dinner again, that I shouldn’t make my coq au vin, which I thought was excellent and was one of my signature dishes, but clearly it would not be well-received.

Then again, I had no chance to inform him of anything as he continued speaking.

“Though, rosemary meatloaf in a tomato-based sauce is less of a surprise. Not sure I’ve ever had rosemary in meatloaf, but by the look and smell of it, I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

I tossed the oven mitts I was wearing to the butcher block and sat, murmuring, “Well, I hope it satisfies.”

“I’m just glad there’s lots of veggies and rolls,” Amber mumbled into our exchange.

Jake sighed.

“Can we dig in?” Ethan asked.

“Please do,” I invited.

Without delay, they did.

It was after bowls were passed around and plates were passed to me so I could cut and serve the meatloaf and everyone was eating, all of this done in silence (and rather swiftly), when I decided conversation was in order.

“And what’s your eldest son doing this evening? Um…Conner,” I asked Jake.

“Probably a threesome,” Amber muttered.

Ethan chuckled.

I stared at her with wide eyes.

Jake bit out, “Amber.”

She looked down to her plate.

Jake looked to me. “He’s got a job in town, Josie. He works at Wayfarer’s. He’s on tonight.”

“Ah,” I murmured.

With nothing else to add to that, we all resumed eating.

After I buttered my roll (purchased, incidentally, at Wayfarer’s Grocers, the only market in town—it had a variety of the usual sundries but mostly it was a gourmet market with a superb butcher’s counter, fresh organic vegetables, an extraordinary seafood selection, a large plethora of cheeses, and a fabulous bakery that made excellent breads, rolls and also pastries), I asked, “And how old is everybody?”

“I’m eight,” Ethan shared immediately, mouth full.

Amber said nothing so Jake told me, “Amber’s sixteen. Conner is seventeen, nearly eighteen. She’s a junior, he’s a senior.”

“Ah,” I repeated my murmur, surprised at Conner’s age. He’d appeared older.

We again lapsed into silence as we continued to consume the meal.

“This is really good, babe,” Jake eventually said.

I looked to him and smiled, again feeling warm inside. “Thank you.”

He winked at me and turned his attention back at his plate.

But when he winked at me, my stomach did something strange. It felt like it dropped and when it did, tingles shot across my skin, and neither were disagreeable sensations.

They were, however, confusing ones. But it wasn’t the time to process them so I looked to Amber to see her eyeing the meatloaf.

I felt my lips curl up slightly.

She was no vegetarian and although she loaded her plate with veggies and potatoes, I knew she wanted to try the meatloaf that her father and brother were gratifyingly devouring.

I didn’t bring attention to this. I picked up the basket with the rolls and offered it to her.

“Would you like another?”

She looked to me then back to her plate. “I’m good.”

I studied her as I put down the basket.