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 onWhite 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 thenot-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?”
