23. Chapter 23
N elie rested her elbows on the table and leaned her chin into her hands. Everything was perfect. For now. She didn’t know how people would react when she announced her plan, but she was grateful Mrs. Hart had agreed to host dinner. Telling everyone at once would be easier. She hoped.
She’d spent the greater part of the last week daydreaming and answering introspective questionnaires with titles like: What do you want to do with your life?
and Find and Share your Strengths and Why Cake People and Pie People Shouldn’t Be in the Same Kitchen and I’m Rich.
Now What? None of them had been helpful—although the cake and pie one had her hankering for desserts—but they all reminded her of how lucky she was.
Mostly, Nelie loved her life, but there was too much in it.
She wanted to pare back to make room for what truly brought her joy.
Her life was like a supreme pizza. Right now, there were so many flavors on it, she couldn’t appreciate the ones she liked or avoid the ones she hated.
Nelie wanted a simple margarita pizza made with the best ingredients, a glass of wine, and someone to share it all with. Or someones .
Pris, Suzanne, Mrs. Hart, and Gus sat at one end of the table.
Jackson’s arm slung across the back of Emily’s chair as he and Chet listened to Ava and Piper.
Nelie’s heart swelled. Her newfound family and her future family together.
She smiled at her dad, and he winked back at her.
Through all of this, she’d still been his sunshine and his Nelie-girl.
He was her champion, and she knew he regretted going along with Stella’s cover story.
As content as she was, she shoved back from the table.
The pre-chopped salad bags sitting on the counter weren’t going to make themselves.
Nelie opened the bags as Ava sidled up to her, asking quietly to help.
Nelie pushed the dressing packets, scissors, and tongs toward her.
“Have at it, sweetheart, but let me know if you need help.” Nelie hoped Piper didn’t want to help.
Tossing the salad was a one-person job. She watched the younger girl show everyone her loose tooth, and Nelie stopped worrying.
Piper wouldn’t leave the spotlight for something as mundane as salad preparation.
The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Hart fished a few dollars from her pocket. “That’s the pizza man. Go get the door, Jackson,” she said, handing him the money.
“Pizza? Our first big family dinner and you’re feeding us pizza?”
“Hush.” Mrs. Hart swatted at him. “Bowling ran late today, but we’ve got salad and dessert, too.”
“Store-bought?”
“Nelie-brought,” Mrs. Hart said, and everyone laughed. Chet asked where the girls could wash up, and Pris said she’d show them, taking each of their hands.
“It’s good to see you in person,” Nelie said to Emily as she approached.
“You, too.” Emily hugged Nelie. “I’m not sure what this dinner is all about, but you have my full support. In everything. You were my friend before you became my sister-in-law. And speaking of”—Emily loosened her hug—“I’m sorry. From what Jackson told me, he’s been a bit of an ass.”
A bit? Nelie thought, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want to be another problem on Emily’s list. Nelie didn’t know how she was juggling daily hospital visits to Nate and her new job as the mayor. “He was worried. Who knew cinnamon-roll Jackson could go alpha male?”
“Yes, well, as long as he keeps his chest beating away from the mayor’s office, I’ll be okay,” Emily said.
“Are you two planning to hug each other all night, or can we eat? The girls are hungry,” Gus griped.
“The girls. Right,” Nelie said, rolling her eyes at her dad. Gus harrumphed and carried the plates to the table. Nelie followed behind with the salad. Suzanne grabbed a picnic-style silverware holder from the back room, and Emily passed around drinks as everyone took their seats.
“Granny, can you pass the salad?” Nelie asked. Mrs. Hart wrinkled her nose. The name didn’t feel right to Nelie, either.
“How long are you planning to stay in Haven, Suzanne?” Chet asked, squeezing Nelie’s knee under the table, giving her a boost of confidence and a jolt of attraction.
“I’m not sure. But I’m enjoying my time here. I can’t remember when I’ve spent so much time with my mom or my kids.” Suzanne looked around the table. “It’s been wonderful.”
“Why is your sweater on wrong?” Piper pointed at Pris. Ava glared at Piper. “What? You’re the one who showed me.” Piper looked indignant. Nelie met Emily’s eyes, and it looked like they were both holding back a laugh.
“Oh, I, um, had to get changed quickly at the hospital,” Pris said, blushing and wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“I thought you were off today?” Jackson asked with narrowed eyes.
From the look Pris gave him, Nelie knew Pris wanted to club him over the head with his overprotective he-man attitude.
The Galley was a popular spot for hospital employees after their shifts, and Nelie wondered if she knew the person responsible for her sister’s inside-out sweater and the glow on her face.
“So, do you girls have any plans for the spring?” Pris asked, turning toward them and ignoring her brother.
“Piper swims and Coach Preston thinks I should do kids’ triathlons to keep in shape for biathlon, but I don’t know how that will help with my shooting,” Ava said with an air of maturity. Pris’s eyebrow cocked as she turned to Chet and told him that children shouldn’t be doing triathlons.
“That was my concern, too,” Chet said, and Pris appeared to relax.
“But it’s limited distances. For Ava’s age group, it is a one-hundred-meter swim, a two- or three-kilometer bike ride, and a one-kilometer run.
” Pris nodded. Chet added salad to Ava’s and Piper’s plates.
“And Alex and I are working on a way to get her shooting practice.”
“I might do it, too,” Piper said, and Ava frowned.
“That sounds wonderful. Ava must be an excellent older sister for you to want to emulate her,” Mrs. Hart said, and Ava shut her mouth as her lovely words blew away the storm clouds that had gathered over Ava’s head.
“She is, Mimi,” Nelie said, trying on a different name for Mrs. Hart.
Mrs. Hart bit her lip. “Better, but keep trying.” Conversation flowed around them.
Pris asked Suzanne if she’d spoken to her husband recently.
Nelie didn’t hear her response, but she saw Pris’s speculative look.
Emily updated everyone up on Nate’s progress and Jackson asked what everyone thought about opening a Chance Resort in Minnesota or upper Wisconsin.
Their partners at CHART, who managed the resorts in the Pacific Northwest, would be in Haven next week for a few days of strategizing, and a local resort was one of the agenda items. Gus said it should be up north, by Canada, with lots of fishing.
“And mosquitoes and ticks and no easy access,” Mrs. Hart said, sounding against that location.
“We’d want to include a spa,” Emily said.
“Of course we would, my little spa-slut.” Jackson tugged her hair.
Emily had convinced Jackson to renovate several of their hotels to include day spas, arguing their guests would appreciate it and it would bring local people into the hotels.
The first ones had been open for over a year, and those locations were seeing a bump in room bookings from the locals.
“Dad, what’s a spa-sl—”
“Hey, since dinner’s finished, why don’t the two of you help me get dessert dished up?
” Nelie asked, jumping up and looking at Jackson as if to say watch your mouth!
He looked contrite. Ava and Piper didn’t have to be asked twice, and with their help, everyone soon had a bowl of bread pudding with its new, and hopefully improved, whiskey sauce.
Lola had been right. The sauce was too sweet, almost cloying, and it needed something to balance it without making it bland.
During her recovery, Nelie dove into Pinterest, looking for inspiration.
But all she’d come away with were craft ideas she didn’t have time to do and clothes she wanted but would never wear.
In desperation, she’d texted Lola. The chef had responded almost immediately with one word: heat.
Helpful, not . Nelie had dragged herself off the couch and stared at her spice rack.
Then stared again, but with the recipe in front of her.
She’d pulled a few bottles off and held them in her hands, as if weighing them against Lola’s word.
She’d opened the cupboard. Could I use hot honey instead of sugar in the sauce and add a pinch of cayenne?
Nelie had baked and stirred, and when she’d dropped off a piece, Lola had texted that she’d scraped her bowl clean and finished the text with a kiss emoji.
“Pris, can you get the girls set up in front of the television? They can bring their dessert with them. And maybe fix your sweater, too?” Mrs. Hart asked.
“We never got to do that. She must like you better,” Pris said under her breath, and Piper giggled.
Nelie handed each of them a kitchen towel and told them to use it as a tablecloth over their laps. The only thing she wanted spilled tonight were the words coming out of her mouth. “You doing, okay?” Chet asked, close to her ear and Nelie shivered, in the best way possible.
“Nervous,” she said, opening a few kitchen drawers. “And I can’t find a corkscrew.”
“You told me they were screw-top, remember?” Chet dropped a light kiss on her mouth and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”