“I sure do,” Lana said. “I’m in the FX department, but we know plenty of actors.”
The conversation continued for over an hour. Samantha was shocked at how kind everyone was. There didn’t seem to be any competition among the women who lived in the mansion. And while they’d chosen to live their lives as Littles, it was evident they weren’t helpless. Their Daddies supported them; they did not control them.
By the time dinner wound down, Samantha was struck by just how amazing it was to be included in such a group.
Already.
Was this real? Were there actually people out there actually like the ones she was with? People who actually cared about others, rather than just getting ahead or their own selfish desires?
Auntie Athena stood and reached for her dishes. Kendrick held up his hand.
“Nope. You’re our guest. I’ll take care of all this.”
“But—”
“You might call the shots at the nursery. But around here, Daddies are in charge.”
Hugging his arm, Samantha smiled. Across the table, Auntie Athena smiled, too, and was apparently willing to acquiesce with the edict. “Fair enough. But next time, we’ll host.”
“Yeah,” Caroline said. “And I’ll make some of that good southern cooking. I’m a little surprised we didn’t have that tonight.” She made a show of looking around the table. “I don’t see a biscuit in sight!”
He held up his hands and smirked. “I thought about frying up some good ol’ Nashville hot chicken. But when I got in the kitchen, I didn’t have all the ingredients. So, I settled on Italian.”
“Ooh, I can cook some southern stuff! Well, at least some Kentucky stuff,” Samantha offered eagerly.
Kendrick pulled away from her, shifted in his chair, and appraised her with obvious affection. “Like what?”
“I’ve made a lot of burgoo in my day. People back home used to love it. I’d make it for events and stuff in the little town I lived in.”
“What’s burgoo?” Iris asked.
“It’s a stew. Just with a few regional twists in Kentucky,” she explained. “I guess other places have it, too.”
“We had it in Tennessee,” Kendrick said. “But it might have been a little different than yours. What veggies do you put in it?”
Samantha shrugged. “Whatever I have. Okra. Corn. Potatoes. You name it, I’ve probably added it.”
Everyone seemed to be listening intently, as if they were fascinated to learn of this dish.
“Do you use beef?” Cami asked.
“If I can afford it. Honey, I’ve been so poor I’ve used rabbit! Old Man Gentry, who lived just up the hill from my place, used to drop off meat to me sometimes when he had extra. He hunted and trapped all up and down that region. He’d get deer, sure. Butsometimes we made do with rabbit or, I kid you not, when times were real lean, even ‘possum!”
She realized just how thick her accent had gotten as she explained the ingredients.
And she regretted revealing as much as she had.
The probably think I’m so pathetic! Tonya would have never revealed that. Of course, Tonya dined at fancy restaurants all the time and rubbed elbows with celebrities. She sure wasn’t cooking some hick-ass stew with rabbit and other critters she found in the local hollow!
“I love learning about different regional dishes!” Annika said. “Hey, would you make it for us sometime?”
Samantha was relieved to see no one was judging her.
“Sure.” She grinned wryly. “And I promise I won’t use possum.”
The group laughed.
“Honey, I think whatever you make it with will be just perfect,” Kendrick told her.
