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I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “Could be.”
“Do you know about that other one?” She snaps her fingers together. “You know, their third blind mouse.”
“Are you trying to call them the Three Musketeers?”
“No,” she bluntly states. “The third blind mouse. Every one of them can’t see beyond their own wants, therefore they’re blind.”
Amusement fills me again. “His name is King. I think he’s engaged or getting engaged.” Based on his question about marriage, I’d say he’s headed that way if not already.
“Seems rather frivolous to be mad about, but I’m still irate about the whole thing. Was I happy you went off to Las Vegas and came home with a husband? Of course not. But to have them forcefully take your happiness and now find their own before you, something just isn’t right in the universe.”
My throat clogs up at her words. I know she’s thinking about the unfairness of it all, after comforting me in the months once everything was said and done.
She looks at me, her eyes softening from whatever she reads on my face. “I’ll always place your happiness above everyone else’s, dear. That’s what happens when you’re my favorite person.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She tosses an empty jar into the trash. “Now, I’m not going to have time to sit around and grill these people, so try and have a good night. Once we finish cooking, the ladies and I will clean up and then we’re heading to Barbra’s for this new movie Betty White is in.”
Pretty sure if Betty White could be considered a spirit animal, she would be my Nana Noel’s.
Part of me is relieved to know she won’t be sticking around to interrogate anyone. Even though I have a sneaking suspicion she would love Whitney, she wouldn’t be as cordial to the men.
“Are we making meatballs this time?” I ask to desperately change the subject.
Nana Noel shakes her head. “No. Judith burned them last time and the kids still get a queasy stomach when they smell them cooking, so we’re going to table the meatballs until later this year.”
Well, I definitely don’t blame the kids for not wanting any. Just the thought of what that must’ve smelled like is enough to turn me green. “Sounds like a good plan.”
Nana Noel raises an eyebrow at me. “You should go out there.”
I frown at her and glance around the kitchen. Everyone seems to be in a good groove getting dinner going. “I can move the pots.”
“Whitney can get them.”
Shit. She means goout therewhere Thorin is. “I’m good here. He doesn’t need me to hold his hand.”
Mary Lou snickers from beside me where she’s loading plates with steaming pasta already. “That man has a Cheerio glued to his chin and doesn’t even know it. He might need a little hand holding.” She bumps her hip into mine. “If you want to plate this then I’ll go out there. Seems like a fine young man to me.”
Mary Lou would eat him alive and everyone in this church knows it. “You two don’t have to gang up on me. I’m going, I’m going,” I mutter as they laugh.
Exiting the kitchen, I stroll the length of the room to give myself more time. Aillard is elbow deep in homework, so focused on the kids he doesn’t even see me pass. My eyes scan over to where Thorin is joking with some little boys, all of them sporting Cheerio chicken pox.
He glances up when I get near, a smile never leaving his face as the little boys move on to talking to each other. “Thought you were making dinner?” His low, rumbly voice warms my insides and makes my heart stutter.
“The grannies were worried about you and kicked me out.” I smile as I reach up and pluck the Cheerio off his chin. “I did tell you the rule, right?”
“They said it was initiation,” Thorin explains, pulling a deep laugh from me.
“Initiation into what?”
“I’m not sure.” His brown eyes sparkle with amusement. “Could be a church gang for all I know.”
“I think that’s an oxymoron.”
“Miss Bex, we don’t say moron,” a little boy interrupts.
“You’re clearly not in the church gang,” Thorin snickers.
