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She pivoted a bit, putting the tray directly in front of Hal even as she spoke to Alec. “Sorry, Alec. The walk was kind, but really, think of all that snowplowing Hal did. He should have first dibs, right?”
Hal reached again, but he did so slowly, watching Maren, ready to retract his hand if she swung again.
“You’re safe, I promise,” she pledged.
And he was and claimed his treat while Maren winked playfully at him.
Maren then smiled sweetly at Alec. “Okay, you’re good now.”
Amused, Alec took one of the hors d'oeuvres and then Maren moved further into the room. He and Hal exchanged glances and didn’t bother with any polite nibbles but shoved the whole thing into their mouths. After a moment, in which time they savored the tender beef and tangy horseradish sauce, and crostini that was neither too soft nor too hard, Hal said, even as he hadn’t swallowed fully, “She could’ve smacked me upside the head, or right across the face—many times—and I’d swear it’d be worth it. Boy, she’s got some good ideas with food.”
Alec agreed. “She could give me about twenty of these. That’d make for a perfect meal.”
Dinner that evening was quite enjoyable, the guests now familiar enough with one another that Maren didn’t once have to fill any void with conversation. The tenderloin was nearly butter-knife tender, and cooked to perfect temperature since she’d prepared two pieces for different lengths of time, able to offer either medium-rare or medium. They enjoyed a leisurely dinner, no one in any hurry to be anywhere, and lingered over coffee, tea, and dessert, the fruit topped torte Alec had carried back from the Coffee Loft.
Alec, Mark, and Emily helped Maren clear the table before the party moved back to the parlor.
Once the entire group was convened in the parlor again, Maren asked if anyone was interested in another game night.
“Trivial Pursuit was fun last night,” Mark said, “but I’m not going up against Hal again. The man’s got a steel trap for a brain, apparently.”
Maren went to the built-in shelves on the right side of the fireplace and opened the lower cabinet doors, announcing, “We’ve got Monopoly, Uno, Scrabble—"
“Ooh, I love Scrabble,” said Emily. “Who wants to play? We can play in pairs, but I have to warn you, I’m pretty good.”
“There’s a gauntlet I don’t mind picking up,” Mrs. Adamczyk said. “We’ve been playing Scrabble for fifteen years since we started going to Key West. There, people bring their games right down to the pool area. Oh, gosh, they’re nuts about it down there, and even arrange tournaments. We just love it, don’t we, Rich?”
“We do, even though she failed to mention that we’ve yet to win one of those tournaments,” supplied Mr. Adamczyk.
Mrs. Adamczyk defended, “Yes, but we are regularly in competition with a librarian, a physicist, a professor of English Literature, and don’t forget about Marlee, who reads seventy books a year.”
“Rachel and Dan? Are you interested?” Emily inquired.
Dan patted Rachel’s knee and spoke for both of them. “Sure.”
“Hal?” Emily asked next.
Hal grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, not my cup of tea.”
Maren pleaded with an enticing smile. “Come on, it’s just a friendly game. It’ll be fun.”
Adopting a mock caveman voice, Hal shrugged playfully. “Me prefer grunts. Grunts easy. Words, not so much.”
“And what are these very nice people going to make of it,” Maren asked, “when I tell them that you and I play at least once a week in the evening to pass the time?”
“They might suppose, correctly, that I’m tired of losing to you.”
“Fine, have it your way. You could have been on my team.” She put her hand to the side of her mouth and said in a stage whisper, “On the winning team, Hal, unless Emily can back up her claim that she’s some kind of Scrabble champ.”
“Oh, there’s another gauntlet,” Emily happily played along. “Alec, you’ll play, right? You have to, so Maren has a partner. She’ll need someone to blame her loss on.”
Alec smirked. He supposed that someone like Maren, who seemed to have all her bed and breakfast ducks in a row, everything organized and carried out so perfectly, probably hated to lose.
He pushed out a great, big sigh. “Fine. Everyone needs a scapegoat.”
Emily laughed. “That’s the spirit.”
They decided to return to the dining room table to make the board accessible to everyone, and soon took seats in pairs around the table. Hal joined them as well, sitting in his usual chair at the end, pleased, it seemed, simply to watch.
