“But to be frank, I’m enjoyin’ my schedule now,” August went on. “I do my monthly videos to stay current online—and to keep Clara off my back—I still create all the menus with my head chefs, I agree to these dog and pony shows every now and then, and I keep busy with other side projects.”

“Daddy’s gonna write a book about seafood culture and traditions next year.” Camden chimed in.

“Oh yeah?” I took a swig of my beer and faced August, wanting to hear more.

He smiled a little and broke off a piece of pretzel. “Southern cookin’ may be where I started, but I love seafood. My fusion place in Seattle, MAT at the Sea, mixes Southern cuisine with northwestern seafood culture.”

I felt so clueless about these things. I needed to get out there in the world and experience other cultures.

“I’ll have to put that on my endless list of places to visit,” I said. “What does MAT stand for?”

“Meat and three,” he answered. “It’s a local term for supper, basically. You have your meat, and you have your three sides. It’s the concept of my restaurants. You pick the meat first and how you’d like it, and then there’s a whole menu of sides.”

The food lover in me highly approved. “That settles it. I ain’t leaving Nashville before I’ve been to your restaurant here.”

He grinned and stepped closer to kiss my cheek. “It’s a date, darlin’.”

We tried a booth that sold full English breakfast before Camden demanded we go see the stuffies. August had said the English weren’t known for good food, but I’d thought it was delicious. The beans in tomato sauce, the sausage, the eggs, the toast, and then I’d wrapped up the meal by sampling their scones too. It came with four types of preserves, which made me go back to buy some for Nonna.

“You’re a sweet grandson,” August said.

“The woman sends me off after Sunday dinner with leftovers that last throughout the week. Bringing home some souvenirs is the least I can do.” I’d selected a collection of sample jars for her. Strawberry, blackberry, lemon curd, and a few others. Pop better not steal ’em from her.

It was good to take a break by walking Camden over to the stuffed animals, though. I was so full, and I’d need an hour or two before I could eat again.

“I see them!” Camden exclaimed. He pointed down the row we were in and started dragging August along. “We’re almost there.”

“Oof—easy, boy. Daddy’s too full to run.” August blew out a breath and slowed down.