“Yes, ma’am,” Mac mumbled, shooting a halfhearted glare Nat’s way, to which Nat only responded with a smug smile.
“Finn, Nash, and Hudson, would y’all mind carryin’ in the serving platters, please?”
A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” went up, and Nat grinned at how all five foot two inches of her mom could command grown men a foot or more taller than her without batting an eye.
“Asher, there’s a high chair in the laundry room, if you wanna grab that for Owen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood, and there was no good reason Nat had for immediately missing the heat of his body where it had been pressed against hers.
“Am I gonna be able to actually eat this meal, or did you prepare me a salad, Caroline?” Her daddy pushed to stand from his recliner, and Nat couldn’t help but notice it took him longer than usual to do so.
She felt a pang of guilt for ragging on him like she usually did instead of taking it easy. True, she’d been home more in the past few months post-surgery than she had in the previous few years combined, but she still wasn’t here day in and day out to monitor his progress—or his decline.
“You’ll eat what I feed you without complaint, Richard,” her momma called from the kitchen, not even bothering to spare her dad a glance.
“Wouldn’t count on that, honey,” Gran said, just loud enough for Nat to hear.
The two of them shared a smile. While Nat had missed her sisters and momma since she’d been gone—and, okay, sometimes her daddy—she’d ached to be near Gran most of all. Her grandma had always been the one to encourage her…all of the Haven girls, really. Whether it was photography or travel or simply climbing trees, Gran had encouraged her to do what she loved without caring what anyone else thought of it. Truthfully, Nat owed her grandma for every ounce of the stubborn, strong, independent woman she’d become.
“Well, don’t just sit there,” Gran said. “Come over here and help an old lady up. Your daddy’s about to whine again to your momma, and I don’t wanna miss hearin’ her put him in his place.”
Nat laughed and set down Owen, who immediately took off in a crawl. In a panic, she realized she hadn’t checked to make sure the area was safe and quickly scanned the room to ensure there weren’t any knives or hot pokers lying around.
Once that was confirmed, she walked over to Gran and offered her a hand. It was an excuse, of course, because Gran was probably in even better shape than Nat was. She walked every day with her friends, usually cruising the Square with their ankle and wrist weights before the sun started beating down and baking everything to a crisp. Now that they’d just tiptoed into May and were coming up on Satan’s ballsac season, they’d no doubt be finding somewhere else to get in their daily gab—err, exercise—session. Though, knowing Gran, Edna, and the rest of the old lady posse, they’d probably buy a gym membership for the eye candy alone.
“You didn’t need me for this.” Nat helped Gran up while keeping one eye on a cruising Owen.
“You’re right. I just wanted to get my hands on that baby, and then you went and put him down anyway.”
“Just usin’ me, huh? That’s brutal, Gran.”
“Eh,” she said, unbothered. “Come and visit me more often if you want me to be nicer to you. And get me that baby.”
Nat laughed and scooped up Owen as he attempted to zoom past. Gran held out her arms for him, and he leaned into her without pause, babbling and drooling away.
“Well, aren’t you just a sweet one?” Gran said, leading them toward the dining room.
“Yeah, he is. But he’s gonna be a challenge. He’s already tryin’ to escape his crib, and he’s not even nine months.”
“That so?” Gran asked. “Sounds like trouble. Speakin’ of, when’re you gonna give me another great-grandbaby?”
“What?” Momma said, her voice quick as a whip as her eyes darted to Nat’s before dropping to her stomach.
Her daddy wasn’t nearly as chill, and his sharp, “What?” could’ve killed a man if words were weapons.
“See what you did now, old woman?” Nat said to Gran before facing the room and rolling her eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Rory said with a heavy exhale, sinking back into her seat at the dining room table. “I don’t think the world’s ready for another one of you just yet.”
Daddy rubbed his chest. “Don’t go spoutin’ off nonsense like that, Momma. You’ll give me another heart attack.”
“That’s not funny, Daddy!” Will and Mac snapped simultaneously.
“Who said I was jokin’?”
“Everyone can relax,” Nat said. But since shedidhave some news to drop, now was probably a good time. She met Asher’s gaze from across the room where he was striding to his spot after getting June set up at the kiddie table. “Actually, while everyone is all worked up, I might as well spill the news.”
“Don’t tell meWillis pregnant.” Daddy stabbed a finger toward Finn, his eyes nothing more than narrowed slits. “If you knocked up my daughter mere weeks before the weddin’, I’ll—”
