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"I'm not miserable, Callum. But thank you for being so sweet."
My father is smiling at me. "You two are the perfect couple."
"Da, ye donnae know Kate."
"A father can sense these things. Especially when your mother tells me so."
Ma emerges from the kitchen carrying a covered pot. She sets it on the table in front of Da. "Kate, I hope you like haggis."
"I've never had it," my girlfriend says. "But I'd love to try it."
She would love to try it? Most Americans either politely pick at haggis or turn their noses up at it. Kate claims to want to eat our national dish.
My mother turns toward the kitchen door. "I'll get the rest of the food."
I start to get up. "Let me help you."
"Oh, tosh," Ma says with a wave of her hand. "Sit down, Callum. I can serve the food myself. Not decrepit yet."
No point in arguing. I sit back down.
Da leans back in his chair. "Kate, I hear you're a physical therapist and a psychotherapist. Must be challenging work, especially when your client is my bloody-minded youngest son."
"Bloody-minded?" I say. "At least I didnae hold a woman hostage in my house."
My father chuckles. "Aye, Jack did behave like a wee bit of a bampot when Autumn turned up on his doorstep. She surprised him with a baby announcement, so we excuse his behavior. Don't we, Callum?"
Wee bit of a bampot? Jack wouldn't let his ex-wife leave the house, much less allow Autumn to look out the windows, answer the phone, or open the front door. My grumpy behavior doesn't compare.
"Of course we excuse him," I say. "Everybody excuses Jack."
"Donnae be cheeky."
"Why not? Every other MacTaggart is."
Ma bustles back into the room carrying a tray that holds several bowls. As she sets each bowl on the table, she tells us what the dish is. "Tatties and neeps, stovies, cock-a-leekie soup, and Scotch pies. I do hope I havenae made too much food."
"No, Ma, this looks like just the right amount for ten people to eat. Who else did ye invite?"
"Only you and Kate." She shakes her head at me while trying not to smile. "How did I raise such a cheeky lad? Your brother is so polite."
There's no point in arguing or reminding her that Jack snarled at and slammed the door in the face of everyone who stopped by his house in the week or so after Autumn arrived with her baby surprise.
Ma comes over to my chair and kisses my cheek. "Ye know I love you and Jack the same. Ye will always be my sweet wee laddie."
"I'm taller than Da."
"But you're wee to me."
Kate is grinning at us.
Ma kisses her cheek too, then hurries around to the other side of the table, taking a seat beside Da. And the meal begins.
If I hadn't been falling for Kate already, I would be now. She laughs at Da's jokes, even the ruddy awful ones, and she eats every dish on the table. Ma beams every time Kate asks what a dish is, then takes a bite, humming as if she loves it. Maybe she honestly does love all the Scottish foods my mother has cooked for us because she listens while Ma explains that stovies are an appetizer made with potatoes, sausage, roast, and spices.
"Mm, that sounds, looks, and smells yummy," Kate says. She consumes a mouthful of stovies, then half closes her eyes and moans. "Soooo good."
And my mother beams again.
