“I’m Bethany, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“I’ll have water,” I said. The baby was pressing on everything these days, and sweet drinks made my heartburn flare up something fierce.
“Apple juice,” Eloise announced without looking up from her artwork.
“Apple juice, please,” I corrected gently.
“Apple juiceplease,” Eloise repeated, still coloring.
Bethany smiled and turned to Mason. “And for you, sir?”
Mason didn’t hesitate. “Sweet tea, please.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.
Bethany nodded, scribbled on her notepad, and bounced off toward the kitchen. The second she was out of earshot, I kicked Mason lightly under the table.
“Sweet tea?” I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He shrugged, the picture of innocence. “It’s tradition.”
“You hate sweet tea.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“You told me—and I quote—that it tastes like someone melted a bag of sugar into dirty pond water.”
“That was one time.” His eyes sparkled. “And I was being dramatic. I would have drunk a thousand more glasses of that sugary garbage if it meant you’d keep coming back to my table.”
My throat tightened. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
“Mason…”
“Four years ago tonight,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. His thumb traced over my wedding ring. “Right here in this roadhouse. You kept filling my glass and I kept pretending I wanted more, just so you’d come back.”
“And then you drove me into a ditch.”
He laughed. “Best mistake I ever made.”
Eloise looked up from her coloring, curious. “What ditch, Daddy?”
“The ditch where I fell in love with your mama,” Mason said, completely serious.
Eloise scrunched up her nose. “That’s silly. You can’t fall in love in a ditch.”
“You can if you’re lucky,” I told her. “And your daddy got very, very lucky.”
“We both did,” Mason said.
Bethany returned with our drinks, setting them down with a cheerful smile. Mason took a long sip of his sweet tea without flinching. I watched him, trying not to laugh at the way his eye twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Good?” I asked sweetly.
“Delicious,” he said through what I was pretty sure was a clenched jaw.
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. Mason’s face cracked into a grin, and then he was laughing too, and Eloise was giggling even though she didn’t know what was funny, and the baby was kicking up a storm like she wanted in on the joke.
This. This right here. My husband, my daughter, my baby on the way. Anniversary dinner at the place where it all started.
