Now they heard his grandmother greet them from somewhere. "Come on out here. I was just setting the table on the veranda."
Going out through a set of French doors, they found Mrs. Del Rio busy arranging silverware and napkins. The sun was just starting to set, but there were also hanging lanterns lighting the veranda. A gazebo stood in the middle of the huge back yard with more flowers everywhere, and Sammy was delighted.
"Your plates are pretty," Sammy said seeing the plates with purple flowers on them.
"What are you going to be putting on these pretty plates?" Enrico asked.
"Lasagna and bread sticks," Mrs. Del Rio told him. "I'll have supper out here soon. So are you all settled in at the Dunbar place?"
Mitch gave her an update. "We moved in more or less. We only did clean up. The real work starts tomorrow."
"Sammy's room is all ready for her," Enrico added.
Mrs. Del Rio was happy to hear that and smiled down at Sammy. "That's good."
"We got nice pictures," Sammy told her.
"We rearranged a few things," Mitch said.
"Rearrange anything you want. You can make the place your own while you're staying there," Mrs. Del Rio told him.
Mitch and Sammy took their seats at the table, and Enrico went to help bring the food. Once they were all sitting down, Mrs. Del Rio served the lasagna. "I invited a few people over for dessert, so you and Sammy can meet them," she said. "Sam plus Wyatt Hayes and his boys. The boys' parents died not too long ago, and Wyatt is taking care of them like they are his very own. He's their uncle. They're all a nice bunch."
Mitch nodded while the sight of the lasagna on his plate made him realize just how hungry he was.
"Want a breadstick from a can?" Enrico asked as he offered the basket with the breadsticks to him and Sammy.
"You don't have to put it like that," his grandmother scolded him.
Both Mrs. Del Rio and Enrico were very relaxed. They certainly didn't act like Mitch and Sammy were practically strangers at their table. Sammy took to both of them so fast. Mitch wasn't surprised that the offbeat but grandmotherly Mrs. Del Rio could engage her, but Enrico seemed to know how to relate to Sammy as well.
Mitch couldn't feel at ease around him though. Enrico's eyes were too lively and bright. They seemed to prod Mitch like some sort of provocative question was being asked, but he refused to hear it. It wasn't anything Enrico was doing deliberately. If only Mitch could stop paying so much attention to him, there wouldn't be a problem.
Chapter 4
Having dinner out on Grandma's veranda, trying not to get eaten alive by mosquitoes, listening to renovation talk, Rico wasn't having such a bad time. Sammy was nibbling on her salad like a bunny. Mitch was pretty quiet unless he was talking about work with Grandma, but it was still nice to have a gorgeous guy at the table.
He offered to help clear the table too, but Rico didn't let him. "Relax. You're a guest."
"But I might have a job for this little one," his grandmother said as she got up from the table. "Does this young lady want to help me make a banana cream pie?"
"Yes," Sammy said. After Mitch nodded his agreement, the two of them went off to the kitchen.
Once Rico was done clearing the dishes, he left Sammy to help Grandma make banana cream pie and went back out to Mitch. Rico found him staring out toward the gazebo and handed him a beer.
"It's hard to believe that I met your grandmother only today," Mitch said.
"Me too, don't forget. When it comes to people, Grandma trusts her gut. She has faith in you," Rico told him.
"I appreciate it, and thanks for everything you did today. I admit you're more help than I expected," Mitch said.
Rico eyed him for a minute. "And you have a way with a backhanded compliment," Rico told him in a sour tone.
"I was thanking you," Mitch claimed innocently.
"I'll try to keep surpassing your low expectations," Rico said and got a small smile out of him.
He was ready to just hang out with Mitch, when he heard the doorbell. Instead of answering it, he went around to the front. Just like he expected, it was Sam waiting on their doorstep.
