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After he’d left for work, I lugged all the flower-making supplies to the living room and moved the rest of the stuff off the dining room table. I wasn’t finished with those projects, but I was making headway. By the time the doorbell rang, I had my seven-layer dip ready and had made coffee and iced tea.
Opening the door, I was greeted by a half dozen women, all carrying their contributions for our potluck lunch. “Come in,” I said with a smile, and as Nancy passed, I said, “Oh, my God, that smells fantastic!”
“Thanks! Shall we eat first?”
Remembering Brett saying I tended to be overbearing, I turned to the others. “What do you think?”
Staci said, “I’ve had to smell those enchiladas on the drive over. I’m definitely up for eating first.”
It wound up that no one had an objection, and after setting everything on the table and grabbing a drink of choice, we fixed our plates.
Before I took a bite, I looked around the table. “I want to apologize to all of you. I’m sorry for being so mean. I hope you can forgive me?”
“Of course we do,” Nancy said. “We all get carried away at times.”
It was a fun afternoon. Tissue flowers multiplied so much faster with more hands to fashion them, twist them onto wires and secure them with tape. By the time they helped me carry the boxes we’d filled back to the bedroom, I felt that not only would we be able to finish on time, but that perhaps I could make more friends.
Brett was pulling into the drive as the last guest left. I ran back into the house and started grabbing glasses, plates, and cups that we’d been using all afternoon for little breaks of drinks and coffee. Dashing into the kitchen, I had almost made it to the sink when he opened the door.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time and the ladies just left. Dinner will be ready in just a minute. I hope you don’t mind, but Nancy left a pan of enchiladas for us and I’ll make some guacamole.”
“Honey, relax. It’s fine. How did the flower making go?”
Putting the dishes in the sink, I smiled. “Really good. Staci Everett showed us how to make these really gorgeous roses. We only have about three hundred more to make.”
He whistled. “That’s still a lot, but I’m glad you had a good time.”
Pulling me to him, he held me close but cupped my chin to tilt my head back. “Hannah, you’ve been doing a wonderful job, but I’m not expecting you to have a home-cooked meal on the table the moment I come home every night. It’s true I don’t want fast food on a daily basis, but I understand that you’ve got things to do as well.”
Smiling, I said, “Thank you. Go shower and I’ll get the rest of the food ready.”
