Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Dinner went on a lot longer than I thought it would, but that was nice. Afterward, Sam and I cleared while Sandy sat with Jen and Rachel, wanting to see pictures of their kids and share her own. Regina got up to join me in the kitchen, but Sandy wanted to see the pictures she had of everyone on her phone as well. I wasn’t included, and that was fine.
“Jory,” Regina called over to me. “Darling, call my phone.”
“You left it at home, didn’t you?” Sam asked her, his tone with an edge to it.
Instantly, she was glowering at her oldest. “I was very focused on the sausage and peppers, and yes, I think it’s on the counter next to the toaster.”
“You have to carry the phone for protection, yeah? What if something happens?”
“I’m not as old or as feeble as you––”
“What if Dad needs you?”
“Your father was with me, smarty-pants.”
He glared at her. “You know what I mean.”
Deep beleaguered sigh from her. “Yes, my darling, I do. I will be more mindful.”
“Thank you.”
“Jory, will you make some coffee while I serve the tiramisu?” Sandy asked me.
“Absolutely.”
“Do you have an espresso maker?”
“I don’t,” I told her. “I have a double-sided Keurig where I can make a big pot or everyone can choose what they want from my pods.”
“You don’t have a French press?”
“I don’t, but I am thinking of asking for one for Christmas.”
“I have the best one. I’ll put that on the pad too.”
“Thank you.”
Everyone thought my regular coffee would be great, and once I got that going, she started slicing up tiramisu.
“Sam?” she asked him as he passed his piece to Jen. “Do you not like tiramisu?”
“No,” he said flatly, because he never sugarcoated anything. “It’s not my thing.”
“He’ll have apple pie with ice cream, I’m sure,” Rachel told Sandy. “Nice things, fancy things, are lost on this man.”
“Except bourbon,” he informed her. “That I’ve got.”
“Oh yeah?” Michael teased him, walking over to the small cabinet that I’d bought for Sam last Christmas that housed his treasures. “Let’s see what’s in here.”
“If you wanna keep those hands of yours,” Sam warned him, “don’t touch anything in there.”
“Like I know bourbon,” he said, chuckling. “Sandy, honey, come look at these and tell me if there’s anything decent in here.”
“It doesn’t matter, if he loves it,” she replied, shaking her head at him.
“Yeah, but is a Pappy Van Winkle twenty-three year good?”
She looked stunned. “Really?”
“I’m lookin’ right at it.”
Joining him, carrying a piece of tiramisu in her hand, she took a quick look at Sam’s open cabinet and then turned to him.
“Sam, you certainly have quite the collection.”
“Some of that is from when me and some friends of mine went to Kentucky and did the Bourbon Trail, which was awesome, and my friend Aaron gifts me many bottles as well.”
“That’s a very nice friend,” she told him.
“It took me a while, but I’ve warmed up to him over the years.”
“Oh? Didn’t start off as friends?”
He scoffed. “No. Not at all. But does anyone warm up to Aaron right off the bat?”
“Yes.” I defended the man.
Sam made a face.
“Samuel Thomas Kage.”
“Oh, I don’t like to hear Thomas in that tone,” my father-in-law told me with a chuckle.
“Aaron who?” Sandy asked Sam.
“Sutter,” he replied.
I was thinking that it took her a second to parse that, because she was quiet for several moments. “You’re friends with Aaron Sutter?” she asked, looking a bit gobsmacked.
“Yes,” I told her. “He’s my daughter’s alternate godfather.”
“You have a daughter?”
“I do,” I told her. “And a son.”
“Kola is pre-med,” Regina announced, “and what is it Hannah’s going to do again?”
“Wait,” Sam said, his sudden grin making his eyes sparkle. “I hear her car.”
He jogged out of the kitchen, and Dobby ran right after him.
“Oh, Jory,” Sandy said, and I could hear the tremble in her voice. “I didn’t even think to ask if you had children when Michael told me that his brother was married to a man.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s really––oh.”
In strutted Hannah in a gorgeous black gown that clearly showed that she had been to a black-tie function earlier in the evening. Her hair was up in a chignon, there were long black gloves that complemented the dress and shoes, but what made her perfect to me was her stunning smile and the fact that she was carrying a bag with pie for her father.
“Hello, people,” Hannah greeted everyone with a wave, Sam following right behind her.
She set the pie down on the table, walked back to me, kissed my cheek, and then went immediately to her grandmother and then her grandfather to kiss and hug them both.
“Where were you tonight, Audrey?” Jen asked, smiling at my girl.
“Oh, I like being compared to Audrey Hepburn.” Hannah grinned at her. “And I was at The Art Institute at a fundraiser for the FOCR, Friends of The Chicago River. Uncle Aaron is in Rome on business, and so when he’s not here, I go in his place.”