"Follow me to the kitchen, young man. I'll get you sorted." Cliff is frowning at me, and I give him a respectful nod, trailing behind him as he leads the way. The Craftsman details of the house have been lovingly cared for through the years. The wood floors gleam with a deep honey tone, and the trim around the openings is in good condition. The carved mantle above the fireplace still looks secure and like it could last another hundred years.
We pass a dining table set for three and go into the kitchen. I can feel Reena's nervous presence behind me. Pretending like this event isn't anything unusual, I set the bag on the counter, then slide the bakery box in my other hand onto the surface. The bottle of wine tucked under my arm is settled in place next.
"You look familiar," says Cliff, folding his arms over his chest and surveying me when I turn around. "Seen you around town."
"Yes, sir, you have. It's been a while, but you came up to my cabin when I first moved here. Brought me some fresh coffee and welcomed me to town."
"Sounds like something I'd do." He nods, his eyes flickering over my shoulder to where Reena is waiting. "Must've been a while back."
I cross the space between us and offer him my hand. "It was.But it's good to see you again, Mr. Moore."
He gives me an assessing once over, then takes my hand and gives it a shake. "You too."
"Porter brought cherry cobbler for dessert tonight, Uncle Cliff."
"Did he?" Cliff sounds disbelieving, but his eyes light up when I take the large container out of the bag.
"I did. It was Reena's special request. I had to do some sweet talking to have them make an extra pan of it, because they were already sold out."
"Well, this night just gets better and better." Cliff takes the cobbler from me and opens it, digging into the dessert with a big spoon he pulls out of a drawer on the island. His eyes close as he takes a bite. "Oh, now that's the good stuff. Haven't had that in far too long."
"Might want to save some for your actual dessert." Reena's teasing him, but she doesn't stop him as he indulges in another spoonful.
"And this is for you." I hand her the bakery box, the swirling letters across the top easily recognizable. Her eyebrows lift in surprise, and her mouth drops when she opens the top.
"Key lime tarts?" The pink creeps back into her cheeks as her eyes search mine.
"Your favorite." Cliff chuckles behind me but all my attention is focused on Reena. Her breath catches when I tuck a strand of hair gently behind her ear.
"We gonna eat dinner? Or do I just get to eat cobbler all night long?"
His comment breaks the moment between us and Reena steps away from me to move toward the refrigerator, cradling the box of tarts to her chest.
I follow directions easily, helping take the grilled steaks out to the table, listening to Cliff as he sets down a platter of fresh bread, evenly sliced, and the scent hits me. It reminds me of home, when I was a kid, and my mom would bake when she was nervous about things.
Once we have everything set out on the table, Cliff takes a seat and gives me a nod of approval when I pull Reena's chair out for her, sliding it forward as she settles into it.
"Good to see someone with manners around here." His lips turn up in a quick grin. "Someone taught you right."
I meet his questioning gaze with the truth. "Military formal events require a certain amount of etiquette. Had to learn it. My CO wouldn't have allowed for anything less."
There's a glimmer in the old man's eyes. "Sounds about right."
He launches into an animated history about his time in the Army. It's easy to fall into a rhythm listening to him as we pass the food around. He doesn't miss a beat as he recites stories about dangerous missions and the many places he was stationed before he returned to his hometown.
"I'm glad you were here, Uncle Cliff. We had a lot of fun."
"I'm glad too, Bevvy."
Reena freezes, her glass of water halfway to her lips, and there's a ripple of sadness over her face that's easy to decipher. Cliff keeps talking, unaware of his mistake, and I reach out, resting my hand over Reena's. She shoots me a grateful glance, and I squeeze her fingers in an attempt to show her I caught the slip as well.
"Holding hands already? Seems like you two are pretty serious." Cliff's comment breaks through the moment between us and I release Reena's fingers. He points his fork at us and gives a small smile. "Long as you don't start kissing at the table, I don't mind."
Reena coughs, choking on an almost laugh. "I think we can control ourselves."
"Speak for yourself," I say, teasing, earning me a chuckle from Cliff. A strange tightness in my chest uncoils and I can see Reena visibly relax as her uncle picks up the conversation again. We spend the rest of dinner enjoying not only our food but also the stories of a life well lived.
It feels good to be part of the moment.
