Page 27 of The Art of Being Merry
“Sorry,” Atlas mumbles, his gaze directed toward the floor.
“Of course you have to try it to see if you like it. It’ll be ready in ten minutes, and there’s plenty to share.”
“Oh, we can’t impose,” Clementine starts.
“Nonsense. It’s not an imposition in the slightest. We’d love to have you. If you’ve got the time to eat with us.”
When I volunteered to bring her van back to her and spend some time with her boys, I didn’t foresee eating every meal of the day with them, but I’d be disappointed if Clementine doesn’t agree to stay.
Hell if I can put the reason into words.
8
clem
Bethany’s macand cheese is to die for. Like if I had to choose a last meal, it would be this.
Dax wasn’t lying with his “it’s the most delicious combination of crust and cheesy goodness.” So many cheese flavors combine to create the delectable, ooey taste buried under a perfectly crusted layer of breadcrumbs.
I should be more upset at Atlas for practically inviting himself over, but after sampling the meal, I can’t be mad. I can only be grateful to this family, who keep taking us strays in and feeding us. Three meals and counting today. Besides when we eat dinner at Willa’s, I can’t remember the last meal I didn’t have to prepare. Not that I can get used to this treatment. Tomorrow, it’s back to reality.
The boys picked around the crust, but ate most of the small scoop of mac and cheese, Jace better than Atlas, but he’s my less picky child. He eats almost anything I serve, whereas Atlas is harder to please. After I reprimanded him, he’s been on his best behavior, which I’m thankful for.
“How are you liking our little town?” Merritt asks when we’ve finished.
“It’s different from North Carolina, but we’re liking it.”
“I love the lights,” Jace enthuses, his smile wide and proud.He’d enjoy them even if I didn’t have a hand in them, but since I did, it’s extra special.
“They are pretty spectacular,” Merritt agrees.
I almost cower under his praise, but I accept it with, “Thank you. It took some time, but I love how it all came together, how it’s my vision spreading light and joy through the town.”
“Did you know I was the first transplantto win the contest years ago?”
“Here we go,” Dax mutters under his breath. I’m sitting next to him—Bethany made sure of it—so it doesn’t escape my notice.
“No. I bet that caused quite a stir.”
Merritt’s chortle rocks the table. “You bet it did. Especially since I was still in high school, but I was determined. Had to show up the other guy eyeing the love of my life.”
“Oh, pshaw. There was never another man, and you know it.” Bethany rolls her eyes, but amusement twinkles in them. “I didn’t think he’d have a chance. Imagine my surprise when they announced his name.”
“I never doubted it for one second.” Merritt puffs his chest. I stifle my laughter behind my hand.
“What other Christmas traditions do you have here?” Atlas asks.
While Merritt and Bethany enthrall him and Jace with other holiday fun, Dax and I clear the table and start on the dishes.
“Make sure you take the leftovers, Clementine,” Bethany calls out from the dining room.
“Is she serious?” I don’t mean to speak the words aloud, but they slip out.
“Totes.”
I stare quizzically at him, my ears misunderstanding the word he said.
“Huh?”
