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He grinned, “Tatties.”

“Oh man, we are going to have so much fun.”

The first part wasn’t very fun. Grandma was loopy and confused the whole time. At one point in the lunch she startled at the sight of Magnus who had been there the whole time. “Who are you? Why are you here? You’re so big you’re terrifying me.”

“Barb, I am married tae your granddaughter Katie. I am Magnus, you and I are auld friends.”

She eyed us suspiciously and ate quietly.

It broke my heart a little and my heart wasn’t wanting to be broken anymore. I tried to be cheery. I laughed it off and we talked about the food. I chit-chatted about the waiters we liked and the chef, and I asked her questions about her yoga class.

Magnus ate, but our eyes met over our plates. A wordless conversation — This is hard. Aye. She doesn’t know me. Tis verra difficult — I told her all about the wedding plans but in many ways she wasn’t really listening. And the food was delicious but really just another lunch because the conversation weighed it down.

On the way home, driving Magnus in the Mustang he held my hand and we talked about the Green Bean Casserole and the potatoes and then he asked, “Dost ye want tae talk of your grandmother?”

“No, not really. Not today. Today is for feasts and thankfulness. I’m filled with gratitude for all the years I have had with her, all the conversations, all the wise words. That’s what I want to focus on. I’m thankful for you, too.”

“I haena any idea why. I ate my tatties and tried nae tae scare her with my presence.”

“Your fortune makes it so she is taken care of, close by, and I can share meals with her. So thank you.”

“Ye’re welcome, mo reul-iuil. I am glad tae bring her comfort.”

I whacked my hand down on his bare knee, sprawled in the passenger seat, looking sexy under his kilt. “So, love of my life, now you and I are going to go for a long walk on the beach, maybe a nap, and we’ll be ready for feast number two, Chef Zach’s extravaganza!”

Zach’s feast was amazing. The turkey was moist and seasoned with rosemary. The potatoes were fluffed with so much dairy that they were all I wanted to eat. The stuffing was crusty on the edges, but moist in the middle and the gravy drizzled over it was amazing and not gravy from cans either. This was gravy from the drippings as Zach pointed out incredulously when I asked. Also, Magnus thought Zach’s Green Bean Casserole was much better. I wasn’t sure, but I let Magnus win this one to make both of these important men in my life happy.

At my request there was even a can of cranberry sauce, plopped onto a plate, still in the form of the can. Because, as Zach grumbled, I was hopeless.

It was only the five of us, Ben banging on the table sitting on Emma’s lap.

Finally Zach said, “Let me clean this up, Emma needs to nurse Ben to sleep. I’ll bring drinks and pumpkin pie to the living room.”

I said, “Can we help? If we all pitch in there will be barely anything⁠—”

“Absolutely not. I just spent the day watching crazy stuff happen in my mom’s kitchen. I’m grateful that I can run my kitchen the way I want. Alone. With no one putting pans away unpolished. Or the fucking knives in the same drawer with the spatulas.”

I laughed. “Okay, Mister Control-freak, suit yourself.” Magnus and I carried our wine glasses to the couch. He sat at one end, one arm waiting along the back cushions.

I checked the tv, set as always on the weather channel, and turned down the brightness so it wasn’t as insistent. I turned on Spotify, the Ariana Grande station. I sat down and leaned against Magnus’s chest. “How’s this, painful?”

He winced, shifted, and adjusted my shoulder. “Tis better.”

Zach walked into the room with a tray of brandy snifters and plates of pumpkin pie heaped with whipped cream. “This is Emma’s favorite music.”

“Cool, me too. And what’s this?” I held up a chocolate rectangle that was leaned on my triangle of pie.

“Chocolate-covered bacon.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill us?” I took a big bite. “Yum. Are there more, is this it, will we have to have a Hunger Games right here in the living room for the last one on Magnus’s plate?”

“There are more. Eat that and you can have seconds.”

Magnus said, “Hunger games, are they played with a ball?”

“The Hunger Games, let me see, it was a book series where young people were made to fight to the death to...” I checked his face, then squinted as I reconsidered. “Yeah, never mind. Let’s call it a book series and I won’t joke about it anymore.”

Emma entered and plopped down in a chair. “He is fast asleep. I want pie.” She picked up a book from her pile on the end table. “I’m dying to get back to this, so don’t mind me.”