She couldn’t help herself. She laughed out loud. “I love meat loaf and mashed potatoes.” She’d been prepared for anything but this. Something fancy that she’d have to pretend to like.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. Meat loaf is the best staple meal in the world. At least, that’s what I think. I’ll have to give you my recipe. I make it for my dad once in a while. I use fresh tomatoes, and instead of crackers or bread crumbs, I use crushed-up potato chips. Not the healthiest meal in the world, but it’s still delicious.”

“That restaurant in Fallen Springs, Ruby’s. I’d like to get my hands on her recipe for yeast rolls. Those were some of the best I’ve ever had.”

Lauren couldn’t believe how normal they were, though she wouldn’t admit it. “You’ll never get it, either. Half the town has tried for years. She’ll threaten you with that giant butcher knife she keeps tucked away. I have a recipe that’s close to hers that I’ll give you.”

John lifted her up and kissed her right in front of Mr. G and Sandra Marie.

“See, I told you this fella was smitten.”

Lauren normally would have been a little embarrassed by such a crazy show of affection, but she wasn’t in the least bit bothered by John’s actions. In fact, she wished he’d do it again.

Mr. G had a table in the kitchen, set for four. Nothing fancy, just what any family would have. The dishes were Fiesta Ware, and, of course, they were red, and the flatware didn’t appear to be anything one couldn’t purchase at any department store. The napkins were white and had the trademark G in one corner, but nothing over the top. The dinner was served family-style, not much different from the way her family meals were served.

“Lauren, you okay with saying grace?” Mr. G asked.

“I would be honored,” she said, her heart filled with such joy she thought it would burst. “Bless this food, this home, and the wonderful family and friends as we share this bounty before us.”

“Thank you,” Mr. G said. “I’m always grateful that I have the ability to make a meal, and even more so when I can share it with others.”

“Then let’s dig in,” John said.

Lauren took a chunk of meat loaf, passed the serving dish to Sandra Marie, took the potatoes from John, loaded her plate because she adored mashed potatoes, handed those to Mr. G, then added a heap of green beans to her plate. A platter of sliced tomatoes and scallions was passed around last.

“Mr. G, you have Southern roots, right?” Lauren asked between bites.

“I do, though not too many people know that. North Carolina. I was born in a small town, Bethania, just north of Winston-Salem.”