“Oh, hi!” Nellie’s eyes found mine, and she looked a little panicked.
“Noah has told us so much about you. How are you liking Hartwood Creek?” Mom asked, pulling away but keeping her hands on Nellie’s upper arms.
“It’s very welcoming,” Nellie answered, smiling politely. I could tell she was a little uncomfortable, so I came to her rescue.
“Let me get your coat, Nell,” I said.
My mom stepped back so I could help Nellie out of her coat, watching us with a knowing smile.
“Thanks,” she replied as I took it from her and hung it in the hall closet with mine. Nellie was still trying to hide her belly. She was dressed in layers, wearing a loose-fitting navy-blue T-shirt under a white and blue striped button up.
“I hope you’re hungry! I made my famous creamy chicken lasagna tonight,” Mom exclaimed, leading us deeper into the house. We followed, my hand on the small of Nellie’s back as we walked. “There’s also garlic bread, and Caesar salad.”
“Sounds delicious, Mom,” I told her, and she beamed in response.
“It should be ready in a few minutes. Could I get you anything to drink, Nellie?”
“I’m okay, Mrs. Wood.”
“Please, call me Gloria,” Mom insisted, her smile warm and inviting.
“Gloria,” Nellie corrected softly, smiling back.
We walked into the living room where my dad, Easton, Damien, and the twins were hanging out. A PWHL hockey game was on the television, the volume turned up enough that Dad would be able to hear the announcers should anything exciting happen, but low enough that conversations could still happen.
Easton and Damien seemed to be in a heated debate about one of the players. Dad was talking to Aria and Ronan about their most recent game. Everyone looked over to us when we walked in.
“Ah, Noah. You’re on time for a change,” Dad joked as he stood up from his armchair, his eyes twinkling. “And you must be Nellie,” he added.
“Yes, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wood.” Nellie smiled, holding out her hand to shake his.
“Call me Will,” Dad said, his grin widening as he shook her hand. “Mr. Wood makes me feel old.”
“Feel old? You are old, old man!” Easton said.
“Well, that may be true, but, just because you are old, it doesn’t mean you need to feel old,” Dad said, winking at Nellie.
“Hey, Nell,” Charlotte greeted with a smile as she joined us in the living room.
“Hey.” Nellie smiled.
“Go wash up girls!” Charlotte said. Aria and Ronan took off running, shoving each other to get to the bathroom first. Almost everything was a competition with them; who could wash their hands first, who could get to the table first, who could finish eating first.
They got their competitive nature from the Wood side. My brothers and I were the same growing up. I glanced at Nellie and smiled, wondering with reverence if our baby would be as competitive.
We headed to the dining room, where the table was set for everyone. It didn’t matter if it was a casual get together or a formal function, Mom always had a beautifully set table. She believed meals deserved a certain level of ambience and effort.
Mom had decorations for every season, and her casual table set up was a long cream coloured runner with candles and greenery and matching round table mats. Each place was set with plates, salad bowls, cutlery, and napkins.
Dad carried the tray of lasagna to the table, placing it down on the trivet. I pulled a chair out for Nellie while Dad started serving the lasagna.
Mom carried out a basket of garlic bread, lifting it so the girls wouldn’t knock into it when they ran into the dining room.
“Beat you!” Aria declared, sitting down half a second before Ronan.
“Barely! And you cheated, so it doesn’t count!” Ronan insisted with a scowl.
“Girls, no bickering,” Damien scolded them, his tone somehow gentle and firm at the same time.
