“I’m just glad to meet you, dear. I think the world of your sister, and I’m just so glad Molly suggested that we all have dinner. Now, come sit. Everything’s just about ready.”
We busy ourselves by getting drinks and bringing dishes to the table. Dinner is delicious, as I knew it would be. Stella’s a fantastic cook. She doesn’t bother with measuring or weighing things. And she has no need for the recipe cards she insists on keeping in the box on the counter. She knows all the best dishes by heart.
Unsurprisingly, Stella and Ev adore each other. She’s a sucker for a charming guy, bonus points for silver foxes. And sure, he’s not all the way there yet, but the salt-and-pepper at his temples surely qualifies. He laughs at her jokes, and it’s genuine; Stella’s a riot, and I can tell that he enjoys her spunk just as much as I do.
Dinner is over too soon, and before I can suggest dessert, Stella makes her excuses. “Now, my dears, I’ll just clear this table and then I’m off to Basket Bingo. I don’t usually go to these things. They don’t serve alcohol, and you have to bring your own damn blotter, but it’s a fundraiser for Doreen’s granddaughter’s school, so we’re all going. Hopefully, there’ll be time to get a drink after.”
“Is Bill driving?” I ask, naming Doreen’s husband.
“Always. He’s the DD, whether he likes it or not. But he doesn’t complain. He knows he’s lucky for the chance to hang out with us,” she responds, without a trace of irony.
“Don’t worry about cleanup, Stella. We’ve got that under control,”Ev assures her.
She won’t listen to him, though. I know she won’t. No matter how many times I say I’ve got this, or I can take care of something, Stella always hip checks me out of the way.
“Oh, thank you, dear. How sweet. And I’ll take you up on that very kind offer. Let me text Doreen to see if they can come now.” She tap-clops down the hall in search of her phone, and I stand in the dining room, stunned.
“You’re catching flies, Gorgeous.” Ev cups my chin and gives me a quick kiss, before lifting serving dishes off the table and taking them into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe she’s letting us clean up.”
“Believe it, Sweetness. And blow those candles out, will you?” he calls.
“She never lets me help. Stella is the sweetest, kindest woman,” I explain, as I carry the last of the plates over to the sink. “But she never asks for help and never accepts it either. She’s one of those frustratingly capable people who won’t take help in any form. She always thinks she knows best, even when a little assistance would lighten her load and let her relax, you know.”
Ev stands before me, six feet and several inches of pure sexiness, wearing too-small dish gloves, and a knowing smile. “I’ve known people like that…” he says, wryly.
I give him a hip check of my own. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”
We fall into a pattern where he washes and I dry.
“So, how did you two meet? My first guess is that you were college roommates, paired together by the university because your answers to the compatibility questionnaire were identical. But something tells me Stella may have graduated just a few years before you.”
“Haha. Just a few. She’s 81. I’m thirty.”
“So, what then? You met at Beer and Bingo?”
“No, but she does love to go. We met when she almost became my great aunt about ten or twelve years ago.”
He pauses mid-rinse to look at me. “Your family tree seems to have quite a few branches.”
“That’s an understatement. My parents divorced when I was really young, about a year old, I guess. They’ve each been married and divorced a few times since. And they were each in relationships that never made it to the altar.”
“That’s how you found Stella.”
“Right, her niece Kathleen was engaged to my dad. That didn’t last long—I never even made it to the fitting for the bridesmaid dress. But that’s how I met Stella, and, as you now know, she’s pretty irresistible.” He nods as we stack plates and cups in the cupboard and set the kitchen back to rights.
“So you just kept her?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Fair enough,” he agrees.
“Honestly, though, I’ve collected a lot of relatives in my time. I really should keep a chart or something,” I joke. “At last count, I have six half-siblings and 11 step-siblings. And then you add in all the step-siblings my siblings have gained since our parents divorced and remarried. That just gets ridiculous.”
At his confused look, I explain. “So, let’s take Jeff. He’s one of my faves. He and my mom married when I was 10 and divorced when I was in high school. Jeff’s boys, Jake and Jordan are a couple years ahead of me. They’re good guys. And my mom had my little brother Jaden when I was in middle school. Anyway, after our parents split, Jeff married Debra, who already had three kids of her own. So, they often show up at functions because my family is weird like that.”
“Wow. Do you have to wear name tags at birthday parties?”
