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“What’s all this noise I’m hearing?” Dad enters, and I hope to all things holy he didn’t overhear what we were talking about. I’d be absolutely mortified.
“None of your business,” I quickly say. “Girl talk. No boys allowed.”
“Pretty sassy for someone who still lives under my roof,” Dad teases, not that I needed the reminder.
“Kenzie and I are gonna get an apartment in the city,” I say casually, wanting to change the subject quickly.
“Not a chance in hell,” he snaps. “Nice try, though.” He reaches over and steals one of the apple turnovers that Kat delivered this morning. Kat’s a family friend who provides the B&B with gluten-free pastries. While I could prepare everything, Grandma Bishop loves to support Kat’s bakery, and it’s something we’ve done for a long time.
“Dad…” I suck in a breath. “I’m almost twenty-five and live at home. Do you know how pathetic I sound? I need my own place.”
He lifts his eyebrow. “You can move out when you get married.”
This response causes me to snort, considering my very single relationship status. “And did you and Mom wait till marriage to move in with each other?”
I cross my arms and wait for his answer.
“Do as I say…”
“Not as I do,” Kenzie pipes in and finishes his sentence.
“That’s right.” Dad kisses Kenzie on the head. “Your mom isn’t ready to be an empty nester yet, and frankly, I think she’ll go crazy without you two there, so until you’re in a serious relationship, no talk of moving out.”
Rowan looks at us with a tilted head. “My parents are halfway there. I wonder if they’ll get all sappy on me when I move out?” she asks.
“Knowing your mom and dad, they’re ready to relive their youth days and have their privacy back,” Dad says with a chuckle. “They didn’t exactly take the slow and steady route.”
“Thanks for the visual…” Rowan groans. “Now I need to go throw up my breakfast.”
Dad chuckles, then pats her on the shoulder. “Alright, well I’m gonna leave y’all to your girl talk.”
Kenzie and Rowan continue chatting, and when the clock changes to ten, crumbs are all that remain. I add fruits and pastries to different baskets we keep out for the guests, as Sandra and Jane continue prepping for lunch.
“So, you never answered the question,” Kenzie reminds Rowan. “How’s the sex?”
“Mind-blowing,” Rowan says, then snorts.
“I gotta clean up and get ready for lunch,” I tell them, wanting no part of this conversation.
“Go for it,” Kenzie shoos.
After the dining room is cleaned, Jane and I peel the boiled potatoes and then mash them. While I’m adding tons of butter to the pounds of russets, Rowan turns to me.
“So about tonight. I need you to commit.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, then add salt and pepper. “You’re not gonna let me get out of this, are you?”
Kenzie laughs at how demanding Rowan is being.
“Nope! You’re joining us. The whole gang will be there, and you deserve to have a little fun.”
“Fun?” I question with a smirk. She elbows me, and I grunt.
Soon the kitchen smells of fried chicken and cornbread. I realize how hungry I am, but I don’t typically have time to eat until after serving lunch. When we place the hot food in the dining room, Kenzie and Rowan are the first to grab a plate.
“Ahh, now I see why you really came.”
Rowan snickers. “Nah, this is just a bonus.”
Kenzie takes a seat, then stuffs her mouth full and lets out a moan. “Mmm. So good.”
Soon, guests trickle in and pile their plates, and chatter fills the room. Once Kenzie and Rowan finish eating, we exchange hugs, and I start on my cleanup list as I go over the dinner menu with Donna and Becky, the ladies who work the dinner shift.
I typically do the morning and lunch rush because it’s so time-consuming, but I’ll help in the evening too if I’m bored. We have a short meeting, then I post the menu for the rest of the week so we’re all on the same page.
Jane and Sandra finish prepping as Donna and Becky start cooking. I go through the fridge and pantry and then write down what I’ll need to order next week. Just as I’m wrapping up my list, Grandma Bishop walks in wearing her million-dollar smile. Immediately, she opens her arms and pulls me into a hug. I’m pretty sure I’m her favorite grandkid.
“Maize, sweetie, I’ve missed you,” she tells me with a tight squeeze.
“I saw you Friday!” I remind her.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you,” she retorts, then pulls away and greets my employees. They’re old friends who chat about the weather and their grandbabies as they work.
Dad walks in, sees Grandma, and laughs. “Mama. Whatcha doin’ here?”
“I leave the house, and y’all act like it’s a Christmas miracle. I’m not that old yet. But since you’re so concerned, I was gettin’ ready for my quilt club meeting and wanted to stop by and see you two on my way out,” she explains, but her smile doesn’t falter.
