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“We ask you that all the time,” her father groused.
“Hi Daddy…” she said patiently, kissing him on the forehead, and grinning pointedly at her mother and Toby.
“Ohh… and you brought pie?” Samantha began innocently, sitting down opposite of Toby at the table… who instantly nudged her shoe, making her smile as she remembered their texts late last night.
“Yes, I thought a nice lemon meringue pie would be good. It was awfully warm out today and it just sounded appealing.”
“Lemon meringue is Jackson’s favorite,” her mother volunteered, smiling at Toby, before turning a sly, knowing glance to Samantha, who shrugged innocently. “He loves a good lemon meringue with a ton of fluff on top – and that looks like a mountain of it.”
“Picked it up at Dixie’s café,” Toby volunteered before turning to his left and looking at Samantha’s dad. “She said to tell you Romeo wanted to go fishing off the coast and you should text him.”
“Thanks.”
“Mmmmkay,” her mother beamed cheerfully, “Now that everyone is here - who’s hungry? Samantha, can you help me serve?”
“I’ll get it, Mrs. Sloan…” Toby said, getting to his feet quickly. “You cooked, Samantha just got off work, and I’ve barely done anything while on my vacation. Why don’t you rest?”
Her mother looked around the table, shocked – and Samantha just looked at her in disbelief as well. She never expected him to pay attention, be cordial, or try to impress anyone, because they’d always been easy-going together.
This was not the first time another Flyboys child had dined at another house. Luke, C.J., Betsy, even Caspar, Toby’s brother, had been to their home for dinner. Caspar had been in her marching band group and they had held practice here one night, much to her parents’ dismay… staying for dinner until Marisol picked him up.
She watched, unable to help herself, as Toby’s hands flexed using the utensils to cut the roast, serving her father first. She knew her father didn’t want to like him, but this gesture of respect didn’t go unnoticed.
“Thank you.”
Toby served her mother next, then her, and she quickly helped so that way they could begin eating and break some of the tension in the room.
“Would you like a roll, daddy?” Samantha asked, picking up the basket and holding it for him.
“Sure, baby,” her father replied, smiling at her.
“He didn’t call me ‘baby’…” Toby whispered under his breath, grinning at Samantha – only to see her father glare at him as her mother laughed in disbelief.
“You like poking the tiger, don’t you?”
“No kidding,” Samantha uttered, looking at Toby in surprise. “You must enjoy living on the edge…”
“A certain lovely young woman reminded me of what happiness felt like,” he replied openly, smiling at her. “Potatoes?”
“Please,” she whispered, returning his smile as she stared up at him where he was standing, serving each person one at a time. “This is really nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is…” Toby admitted. “Family dinners were a big deal growing up with my parents, and it’s nice to be able to share this with all of you.”
“Speaking of,” her father began. “How is your mother handling you being here instead of at her house? Wouldn’t you rather be there?”
“Jackson…” her mother hissed in disbelief and disapproval.
“Actually,” Toby said smoothly, looking at him. “My parents would like to have dinner with both families together and wanted to see if Sunday night was okay? I told them I would be happy to ask since I would be here this evening.”
“I would love that,” Samantha interjected quickly.
“That sounds nice, doesn’t it, Jackson?”
“I gotta check the calendar,” her father said begrudgingly.
“Maybe we can make something together on the grill and bring it, Daddy?” Samantha laid a hand on his, patting it, and smiling at her father.
“Yeah, baby – we can do that,” her father agreed, nodding, and looked at Toby. “What time Sunday?”
