“I know you’re gonna be successful,” I say, beaming at her. I can’t wait to see what she accomplishes. Grandma Bishop has already gotten her booked solid for months with ladies from church.

“And I’m about to be twenty-six, and even though I still live at home, I’m grown. I can do whatever I want, date whoever I want, and make whatever decisions I want.”

John cracks a smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, but I’ll always be your father and will always have your best interest in mind.” He pauses for a second, then looks at us. “I know the two of ya are waitin’ for my blessing, so you have it. Once your grandma finds out, that’s if she doesn’t already know about this, she will be publicly asking for more great-grandbabies. Just please, wait until you’re married.”

“And don’t wait until I’m old and gray to get married and have kids,” Mila says. “I’d like to enjoy having grandkids.”

Maize nearly chokes on her food and places her hand on her throat before chugging tea. “I’ve announced I have a boyfriend, and you’re already planning a wedding and kids. You both need to chill out. We’re taking it slow. There’s no need to rush because I want this to last forever.”

“It will,” I say with a big grin.

Mila shrugs. “I was serious, though.”

“Okay, so ring shopping next week?” I turn to Maize.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her cheeks turn rosy pink. “Don’t you even!”

I wrap my arm around her, and she leans in. “One day.”

“Not right now,” she says with a smile, but the look in her eyes gives her away. It’s as if she’s imagining a future with me, and it makes my heart swell with happiness. My face actually hurts from smiling.

After dinner, Mila makes coffee and pulls out a coconut cream pie.

“Just because Maize’s a chef, doesn’t mean I don’t buy store made pies,” she admits as she slides pieces onto plates and hands us forks. I take a bite and grin.

“It tastes great. I wouldn't have known the difference,” I say.

“Maize still has a lot to teach you then,” Mila says, grinning at her daughter.

Maize snorts. “I’m a little snobby when it comes to desserts that aren’t made from scratch.”

“A little?” John scoffs and holds his arms as wide as they’ll go.

It makes me laugh. John watches the way Maize and I interact, and eventually, something snaps in him. It’s almost as if he can see how much I love her. After we finish eating, I get up and help Maize with the dishes. Once the kitchen is clean, we go to the living room and tell her parents good night.