CHAPTER 8 | The Eleventh Hour
CHAPTER 8
The Eleventh Hour
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“T hat’s the last of them,” Beckett said with a sigh. He leaned back at the kitchen table, studying the stack of Christmas cards that were finally ready to mail. “I think they’ll only be a week late at this rate.”
Mallory groaned, swapping Maybelle to her other arm. “At least they should arrive before the New Year. And can people really blame us? We had a baby, for Pete’s sake.” She jostled the child in question, earning a giggle from the tiny redhead.
Beckett stood, collected the stack, and put them in a box. He leaned down and kissed both his girls on the forehead. “I’m going to go to the post office and mail these, otherwise we might as well wait for Maybelle’s graduation announcements.”
“Perish the thought. I’d never hear the end of it.” Mallory followed Beckett to the door, holding out his hat with her free hand. “Do you mind picking up the stuff to make your famous apple crisp? I know Max said all the food is covered, but I hate not bringing something.”
“You got it,” Beckett agreed, opening the door to a whoosh of cold December air. “Gosh, this feels like snow weather.” He sniffed the air and exhaled slowly. “Smells like it, too.”
Mallory giggled. “How can you tell?”
Beckett looked up to the gray sky and smiled. “Gram always said you could smell the snow, because the air is a little sweeter, a little heavier. She threatened to bottle the scent if she could, saying it would be more popular than our apple candles.”
Maybelle sneezed at the cold air, earning coos and kisses from her parents. “Enough snow talk,” Beckett said. “I better get going so I’m back in time for dinner. What time are Evan and CeCe coming over?”
“Five, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re early for a little Maybelle time.”
“Then I better hurry.” Beckett flashed her another smile, making Mallory weak in the knees. “Love you, Mal.” Kissing the top of his daughter’s head, he added, “Love you, too, little Belle.”
Mallory closed the door and settled the baby into her pack and play. “Please behave for Mommy for two seconds, okay?” Maybelle cocked her head and coughed, a sweet little sound that made Mallory sigh. “And you better not be getting another cold. We can’t get Auntie CeCe sick.”
Taking the moment alone, she got Maybelle set up with some toys and turned on White Christmas for company. Beckett would be home before she knew it, and his gifts wouldn’t wrap themselves. Just as Mallory taped the last corner of wrapping paper on a new pair of work boots, the front door flew open.
Knowing Beckett would never make such an entrance, she scooped up Maybelle and shouted, “In here, Ev!”
Evan and CeCe shuffled into the living room, Evan’s hand pressed to CeCe’s lower back. “Have a seat, babe. Right here,” he said, not stepping back until she was on the couch.
CeCe rolled her eyes and kicked her feet, now unable to reach the ground. “I know where the couch is, Ev. Please save the babying for a month from now when the kiddos come.” Evan gritted his teeth, stifling a retort, as he fluffed pillows and rested them behind his wife. He shook open a blanket and draped it over her legs before stepping back and thrusting his hands on his hips, nodding when he felt she was protected.
Mallory snorted. “No offense, but I’m loving this a little too much.”
Evan playfully shoved his sister on the way to the kitchen. “Where’s Foxy? I need an ally.”
“Running errands in town. We are woefully late on the Christmas cards.”
“Pfft, no one cares about that. You have a baby, doesn’t that mean you’re allowed to be late with everything for at least a year?” CeCe reached out for her niece, wiggling her fingers until Mallory handed her over.
Mallory joined her brother at the fridge. “CeCe, we have orange juice. You want some?”
“Yes, please. And anything with cheese. I’m starving.”
Evan pulled out the bottle of juice and a wedge of cheddar, tucking them in his arm as he helped himself to a beer. “She’s acting like we didn’t stop for burgers on the way here. I just watched her inhale a cheeseburger faster than it took me to buckle my seat belt.”
Mallory chuckled, pulling out a sleeve of crackers, a chunk of gouda, and a bunch of grapes to make an impromptu cheese board. “It’ll calm down soon enough,” she promised before quickly amending, “the eating part, I mean.”
Evan patted his growing belly and sighed. “I hope so, Mal. At this rate, I’ll weigh three hundred pounds by the time the twins arrive.”
Mallory flicked her brother’s stomach, which admittedly had grown throughout his wife’s pregnancy. “You know you don’t need to eat every time CeCe does, right?”
“Ha! And risk her thinking she’s fat and has a problem?” He lowered his voice and scoffed, “I expected more from you, Mal.”
Saving herself from another round of scolding, Mallory carried the cheese tray into the living room. CeCe had turned the volume up on White Christmas . Both she and Maybelle watched a dance routine with wistful expressions. “God, this movie is so good.”
“Isn’t it?” Mallory agreed, plopping down next to CeCe and swapping the baby for a plate of food.
“Speaking of white Christmases,” Evan said through a mouthful of gouda, “Mrs. Sanders is telling all of Buckeye Falls that we’re getting a blizzard tomorrow.”
“Really?”
Evan shrugged and handed a stack of cheese slices to CeCe. “So the old bag said.”
“Don’t let Mrs. Sanders hear you call her that. I’m pretty sure she could whoop your butt in her eighties.”
“I’m not afraid of her,” Evan pressed, although no one missed how he nibbled his bottom lip.
“Who aren’t we afraid of?” Beckett asked, stepping inside and bringing a whoosh of cold air with him. He shook a few rogue snowflakes from his red hair, his hat forgotten in the car.
“Is it snowing?” Mallory asked, closing the distance to Beckett and helping him with his coat.
“Told you,” Evan and Beckett said in unison.
Evan raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Sanders got to you, too?”
Beckett shook his head. “No, Lawless. Gram passed down her sniffer.” He tapped the side of his nose, knocking his glass askew. “I’ll never miss a snowstorm with this thing.”
“You’re all insane, and I’m starving,” CeCe announced from her perch. She kicked out her feet and groaned. “And I need a forklift, please.”
Mallory held up her hand. “Beckett and I are on dinner duty.”
“Then I guess that means I’m doing the not-so -heavy lifting.” Evan winked, easing CeCe back to her feet and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Good save, babe,” she quipped, shuffling down the hallway toward the bathroom.
A few minutes later, everyone was seated at the kitchen table sharing a pot of soup. “This is amazing,” CeCe drawled, wiping down her bowl with a crust of sourdough.”
“Coming from you, CeCe, I take that as high praise. It’s one of Gram’s old recipes. Sometimes when I’m feeling sentimental, I’ll whip up a pot.”
Evan rested his elbows on the table, his expression wistful. “Do you remember when she’d make this noodle soup and those grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“And Gramps would come find us in the orchard and make us come home to eat before everything cooled?” Beckett replied, his eyes shining through his smudged glasses. He was proud of himself, not bursting into tears at the memories. Despite the decade-plus that had passed since their deaths, Beckett still mourned his grandparents. Save for the Lawsons, they were his only family.
“I remember you guys were mad at me for weeks when I ate the extra sandwich, because you were too slow coming down the hill.” Mallory grinned, enjoying the trip down memory lane. “In my defense, I waited patiently for you two knuckleheads to come in, but I wouldn’t resist the siren song of cheese and bread.”
Beckett snaked his arm around Mallory’s shoulder, bringing her to his side. “Those were some of my favorite times.”
Beckett, Evan, and Mallory had grown up together. While Evan and Beckett were friends, it was Mallory and Beckett who had formed a tighter bond that grew into love. It may have taken a little longer to find their own happily ever after, but it was worth the wait.
“So, I’m dying to know,” CeCe said, changing the subject as she adjusted her seat.
Mallory didn’t miss the wince when CeCe leaned back, and she reached out a steadying hand. “Do you need anything?” she asked, unable to avoid nurse mode.
Evan sensed the strain in her voice and knelt down beside CeCe. “Babe?”
CeCe threw her arms in the air and groaned. “For crying out loud, I’m fine. I’m just very pregnant and hungry.”
Evan frowned. “But you ate three meals since lunch. I didn’t even get a full bowl of soup.”
That comment earned him a glare from CeCe and a flick to the forehead from Mallory. “Nice, Ev. Want to rub any more salt in the wound?”
“I. Am. Fine,” CeCe repeated. “What I wanted to know was if Beckett was making his famous apple crisp for Christmas?”
Beckett shot a thumbs-up. “Just picked up the ingredients. Fortunately, we have a million apples in cold storage, so I’ve got it covered.” He reached out to wipe a smudge of strained carrots from Maybelle’s chin before adding, “And I hope you’re making cheesy bites, if you can.”
CeCe smirked. “I can, and I did. They’re in the fridge at the diner. I only need to slice and bake.”
Evan checked the time and frowned. “We should probably head out. There’s still a lot to do before the big day.”
Everyone shared their goodbyes and helped Evan and CeCe to their car. The snow flurries had stopped, but Beckett wasn’t convinced that was the end of the snowstorm. “It’s going to be a white Christmas, Mal. I can feel it.”
“The perfect first Christmas for Maybelle.” She sighed and leaned into his side. Beckett kissed the top of her head and enjoyed the moment of peace. He loved hosting their friends and family at the farm, and he thanked his lucky stars he didn’t sell it when he had the chance.
This was home. This was his family’s home, and he knew his grandparents would love to know that Mallory and Maybelle would make a whole new slew of memories on the farm. Life was good, and Beckett was a lucky man.