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“Hey, Ma,” Levi said as they entered the room. “Something sure smells good.”
The petite woman standing at the stove turned around, and Grace could immediately see the resemblance between mother and son. Levi had his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes, as well as her smile.
Before he had a chance to offer an introduction, his mother wiped her hands on her pink floral and gingham apron and rushed over to them. She wrapped Grace in a tight hug, then took a step back, capturing Grace’s hands in hers. When she offered a friendly smile, her eyes twinkled with something that Grace could only describe as joy.
“I’m so, so happy to meet you, Grace. Is it okay if I call you Grace? What a beautiful name. So well suited to you. You look so graceful and lovely.” She glanced at Levi. “She’s absolutely stunning, son.” Then she turned back to Grace. “Oh, I’m just thrilled you’re here.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gibson. I appreciate the invitation to join you for dinner,” Grace said, no longer feeling nervous but welcomed. “May I help with anything?”
“Of course, you may.” She released Grace’s hands, and her smile widened. “But first, let’s go sit in the living room and enjoy a few appetizers. Dinner needs to simmer a bit.”
Grace watched as Levi’s mother bustled over to the refrigerator and extracted a tray full of food. She handed it to Levi, then lifted another that that held a milk glass pitcher with a grapevine pattern and four matching glasses. She thrust it into Grace’s hands and then retrieved a third tray from the counter stacked with small plates, napkins, and forks.
“Your father came in a few minutes before you arrived, Levi. He’ll join us in a minute,” Stella said as she led the way to the living room.
Grace ended up sitting next to Levi on the leather couch stitched with saddles along the back cushions while Stella took a seat in the chair closest to her.
“Levi mentioned you work at the VA Hospital. That must be so hard to see all the sick and wounded come through your doors.”
Grace accepted the glass of lemonade the woman held out to her and took a sip, needing a moment to formulate her reply. “It’s hard to see them in pain and suffering, but I pray my work there can ease that a little while offering hope and help.”
Levi’s mother gave her a long, intense look, then handed Grace a little plate that held two tiny cheese balls rolled in crushed pecans, and a deviled egg, as well as two carrot curls skewered with a toothpick and topped with a black olive.
A man who looked like an older version of Levi, albeit with brown hair and gray eyes, hurried into the room. From the moisture still clinging to his hair, Grace assumed he’d just taken a shower. He walked straight over to Grace with his hand extended in welcome. When she stood to shake it, he sandwiched her hand between both of his. She could feel the calluses on his palms and fingers and knew Levi’s father worked hard on the farm. His hands reminded her so much of her father’s, and it made a wave of homesickness wash over her.
“Gary Gibson,” the man said, smiling kindly. “It’s sure nice to meet you, Miss Marshall. Welcome to our home.”
“It’s lovely to be here, sir. Thank you.”
He grinned at her, gave Levi a playful swat on his leg, then took the glass and plate Stella held out to him before settling into the chair nearest the other end of the couch.
“You have three brothers?” Stella asked, and the discussion changed to family and Grace’s years growing up in Holiday.
Gary asked about her family’s dairy and the types of crops grown in the area. He mentioned meeting a few members of the Coleman family, one of the oldest and most prominent in Holiday, at a bull sale a few years ago.
“Come on, Grace. You can help me finish up the meal,” Stella said, rising to her feet when Grace had finished the last bite of the delicious cheese ball on her plate. The deviled egg had been different than any she’d ever tasted, but it was good too.
She refused to let her panic show, though, as she lifted the appetizer tray and followed the powerhouse that was Levi’s mother to the kitchen. She might be small in stature, but she had a huge, irrepressible personality. One that currently intimidated Grace.
Then again, it might have been far harder if Levi’s mother were quiet and timid and left Grace wondering if she liked or detested her. With Stella, every thought and emotion passed across her face as though she were a wide-open book waiting to be read.
The woman was nothing like Grace had expected, but she found herself drawn to Stella’s openness and lively manner.
“How may I help?” Grace asked as she set the tray on the counter near the sink, then pushed up the sleeves of her sweater.
Stella quickly set what was left of the appetizers in the refrigerator, then motioned to a drawer near the stove. “The potato masher is in there, and there’s butter and salt in that cupboard right by your head, darling. If you wouldn’t mind mashing the potatoes, that would be most helpful.”
“Sure.” Grace washed her hands, drained the potatoes, and set about mashing them, adding a generous amount of butter and seasoning them with salt until they were smooth and creamy. She set the lid back over the pot to keep them warm, then looked over to see Stella buttering the tops on a pan of hot rolls. The yeasty smell filled the kitchen with a mouth-watering aroma that blended with the aroma of rich spices emanating from the oven.
“I hope you don’t mind eating in here, Grace. The dining room is nice but not very cozy for just the four of us,” Stella said, offering an apologetic look. “I also know my husband and son well, and they have never managed to eat Swiss steak without slopping it on the tablecloth, the floor, or themselves.”
Grace laughed. “Is that what smells so good?”
Stella beamed as she set the rolls into a cloth-lined basket. “I’m glad you think it does. Honestly, those men of mine are just a step above cavedwellers, but I’ve tried to train them.”
Grace grinned and took the basket from Stella, setting it on a lovely round antique oak table that was positioned in front of a large bay window. The view from the window looked out over the backyard which seemed enormous. A short wooden fence divided it from the edge of a potato field.
When she turned her attention from outdoors to the table, white Noritake china adorned with pink roses and gray leaves in the center of each plate gleamed in the waning light. A beautiful crystal bowl of pink peonies rested in the center of the table.
