“Now, now, boys.” Genevieve met them, carrying a tray. “Play nice with each other. Appetizer? The toothpicks are for the meatballs and the dip is for the zucchini sticks.”
Both men helped themselves to the food.
“I can’t get over this piece of property,” Ben said.
Sam’s historic farm was owned and leased to him by the National Park Service. The tract of land included an orchard, a farm-to-table garden, and large bands of untouched nature.
“I love it here,” Genevieve said.
“I can’t get over this food,” Sebastian said.
“Is all of this paleo?” Ben asked.
“Every single thing you’ll be eating tonight is paleo.”
“I don’t understand how Sam makes healthy stuff taste so good,” Ben said.
“Me neither.” Natasha drifted over and speared a meatball.
“It’s his spiritual gift. It can’t be understood.” Genevieve leaned in. “People might suspect that I fell for Sam because of this place or his food. And I get it because, honestly, both are spectacular. But the truth is that I’d have fallen for him if he lived in a shack and could only cook frozen waffles. Don’t tell him, though. I want to keep him on his toes.”
“How can anyone say with confidence that they’d have fallen for someone under different circumstances?” Natasha asked. “The circumstances are what they are, and they do play a role in falling in love.”
“I’m telling you, Natasha, I’d have fallen for Sam under any circumstances. He’s just . . . my person. I don’t think there would have been any mistaking that.”
“Except that you did mistake that for the first few months after you met him.” Mischief danced in Natasha’s eyes.
“A commonsense observation like that has no place in a conversation like this one about love.” Genevieve’s big earrings swung against her thick hair. “I know what I know.”
“Speaking of love.” Natasha zeroed in on Ben. “What’s the latest with Leah?”
Sebastian stiffened.
The humor in Ben’s face leaked away. “She told me a few weeks ago that she just wants to be friends.”
Sadness pulled both sisters’ mouths into frowns.
“Why?” Genevieve asked.
“She doesn’t feel romantically toward me.”
Sebastian remained statue-still, listening as Natasha and Genevieve expressed their sympathy.
“I don’t get it,” Genevieve said to Ben. “If Leah can’t see how amazing you are, she’s nuts.”
Ben glanced at Sebastian, gauging his reaction.
Sebastian met his friend’s eyes levelly.
“It’s not that Leah can’t see how amazing I am.” Ben focused on the sisters. “She can. I mean, my amazingness is pretty hard to miss.” In this group, Ben was the one who lightened everyone’s mood. He was trying to fulfill his role, but none of them was buying it tonight. “She told me she wishes she could feel that way about me. But she just doesn’t.”
“That might still change,” Natasha said.
Sebastian clamped down on the edge of his tongue.
“I can’t expect that, though,” Ben said reasonably. “She’s made herself clear, and I have to respect where she’s at.”
“Of course,” Genevieve replied. “I’m just so bummed. For you and for her, too. You’d have been good for her.”
“So, what’s your plan?” Natasha asked. “Are you going to start going out with other people?”
“In theory, yes.” Ben took a bite of his zucchini stick. “But I’m still hung up on Leah, and I don’t know how to change that.”
“Aww.” Natasha linked her arm with Ben’s.
“And you?” Genevieve asked Sebastian. “Dating anyone new?”
“No.” I’m also hung up on Leah.
“How many promotions have you earned since we saw you last?” Natasha asked. They liked to rib him about his professional success. “Five?”
“No promotions since I saw you last.”
“Slacker,” Natasha said affectionately.
“Good evening.”
The four of them turned toward the voice, which belonged to Eli, a friend of Sam’s. Eli, a fighter pilot, had married Penelope, a Misty River local, last December, shortly before the Air Force sent them to Germany. As far as Sebastian knew, this was their first visit back to Georgia.
Genevieve thrust the tray into Sebastian’s arms in order to give the newcomers hugs, tell them how great they looked, and how glad she was that they’d come.
“How’s life in Germany?” Natasha asked.
“It’s excellent for me, because Penelope’s there,” Eli said. “So long as she’s with me, I’m good.”
Penelope slanted a look of appreciation toward her husband. “Overall, I’m really enjoying living overseas,” she told the group. “Until I had the chance to travel, I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed experiencing new places.”
“‘You are never too old to set another goal . . .’” Natasha tapped her sister’s forearm.
“‘. . . or to dream a new dream,’” Genevieve finished. “That’s a—”
“C. S. Lewis quote,” Sebastian said.
“Well done, Sebastian!”
How long was he going to be stuck holding the appetizer tray like a waiter?
“I’m just glad that you kept Polka Dot Apron Pies open here in Misty River,” Ben said. Penelope had converted a 1950s camper trailer into a food truck. For years she’d sold pie from her spot near Misty River’s downtown square. “I’m a huge fan of your apple pie.”
“Thank you! Does it taste the same as it always did now that Kevin’s managing the pie truck for me?”
“It does.”
Penelope looked pleased. “Kevin’s fastidious about following my recipes.”
“Are you still baking pies in Germany?” Natasha asked.
“I don’t have a storefront. But people on the base place orders with me, and I bake out of our kitchen. I’ve also been working on a cookbook.”
“I’ll buy the cookbook the moment it comes out,” Natasha vowed.
“She’s an incredible baker,” said Eli, who apparently couldn’t compliment his wife enough in public.
“Here’s to those of us who have significant others who know their way around food.” Genevieve lifted a meatball as if it were a champagne glass.
Sebastian couldn’t have cared less whether Leah knew her way around food. He could pay to have food delivered.
Sam called them over. Genevieve lifted the tray from him, and they found their place cards and took their seats.
Light gray clouds drifted lazily through a dark purple sky. Candles, pumpkins, and berries decorated the center of the table. The conversation flowed. Laughter expanded into the night.
Genevieve sat next to Sam, her hand draped over his elbow, her eyes sparkling at something he’d said. Sebastian had been concerned when Genevieve had turned her life upside-down like a bucket of golf balls and moved from her home in Nashville to Sam’s farm. In an effort to win back her mental and physical health, she’d stepped away from writing contracts, speaking engagements, and social media for the last ten months. She’d slowed the pace of her life.