With the attention and care befitting a date, Becky had chosen a respectable combination of a long-sleeved primrose sweater and a gray skirt. Together with her mom, they rummaged through Sally’s old jewelry box, where an eclectic mix of cheap and fine jewelry had been haphazardly accumulated through the years.
After a few false starts with some atrociously bawdy plastic necklaces, Sally managed to find a delicate, golden pendant necklace that perfectly completed Becky’s look, adding a touch of elegance.
"This little necklace belonged to your grandmother," Sally said, her voice filled with tenderness and nostalgia, as she carefully secured the pendant around Becky's neck.
"It must be one of the wedding anniversary gifts my dad had bought for her. He always had a good eye for what looked good on your grandma," Sally remarked, her gaze lost in the past.
Becky turned to the mirror and observed how the pendant shimmered under the faintest of lights. "It's so classy and elegant. Why don't you wear it more often, Mom?"
Sally looked at Becky's reflection, seeing shades of her own mother in Becky's refined features.
"It's too formal for the grocery store, too flashy for church. You know what, you should keep it. You'll get a lot more use out of it, and if you get bored of it, you can always sell it for a tiny fortune."
Becky put her hand on the necklace, feeling its weight and the connection it held to her grandmother she had never met. "I would happily receive it as a gift, but I would never dream of selling it. I feel a connection to Grandma through this necklace even though I have never met her face to face. Wearing this necklace it is as if she is right here with me."
Sally chuckled and affectionately kissed Becky's hair on the side of her face. "You look so graceful wearing the necklace, as graceful as my mom looked when she wasn't greasing up the bearings on the old tractor or chasing the chickens to catch the Sunday roast."
Becky laughed, imagining the absurd scene of her grandmother chasing chickens with a butcher's cleaver while the delicate gold necklace bounced around her neck.
"Have a wonderful time at the Fenton's. I've got to drive back to the store to help out your dad," Sally said, her voice filled with warmth and love for her daughter.
As Sally left the room, Becky turned back to the mirror, she began fussing with the way she was wearing her hair. Her natural look, which she wore every day without a second thought, now seemed overly unremarkable when paired with the necklace. She tried different styles, tying her hair into a small ponytail, then a high bun, but nothing felt right for the occasion. Eventually, she settled for her natural look, giving the ends of her locks a quick curl with a round hairbrush, adding a touch of dramatic flare to her appearance. Pleased with the effect, she picked up her bag filled with gifts for the Fentons and grabbed the keys to her dad's pickup from a cookie tin in the mudroom. With everything in order, she headed out to the pickup.
Becky was welcomed into the grand, modern-style farmhouse at the Fenton estate, a place she was intimately familiar with. Mary answered the door with an eager and lively spirit before leading her into the informal dining room that shared the same space as the open kitchen.
Becky had always found a sense of comfort amid the spaciousness of the Fenton's home. She could easily lose herself in the expansive rooms and generously sized furnishings.
In the dining area decorated with expensive furniture, Becky felt a sense of formality and expectation. In the kitchen, Maggie was busy plating various Asian entrees from a deep fryer, her smile warm but preoccupied. Standing prominently before her was Paul Fenton, the father of Dan and Mary, with whom Becky shared a close bond despite his reserved nature.
In a manner reminiscent of a seasoned salesman greeting a cherished customer, Paul took a confident step forward, his hand extended in a gesture of genuine hospitality. His eyes, although displaying a warmth that appeared conditional, momentarily emanated sincerity.
"Becky, it's a pleasure to have you in our home again."
Putting down her bag of gifts on a nearby counter, Becky shook Paul's hand firmly, taking great care to exude confidence, making sure to maintain firm eye contact. "Thanks for inviting me and my parents over. I'm sorry they couldn't make it tonight, but responsibilities beckoned."
Paul seemed genuinely pleased with Becky's response, and he exchanged a quick glance with Maggie, who silently acknowledged their unspoken thoughts. Paul then guided Becky toward a leather-wrapped dining chair, motioning for Mary to join them.
"Very good, what would you like to drink, Becky?" Paul inquired, his eyes fixed on her. "How about a Prosecco to start?" He directed Mary to pour a glass for their guest, his hand swift and direct in pointing out the exact bottle for Mary to serve.
Becky hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Actually, Mr. Fenton, I..."
"Paul, you can call us Paul and Maggie," Paul interjected sternly.
Becky nodded, her nerves slightly eased. "Yes, well, Paul, I've got a gift for you," she began, her eyes dancing with excitement. "I mean, I've got gifts for everyone if I may give them to you first before dinner."
There was a perceptible shift in the tone of the room, a low murmur emanating from Mary and Maggie, who were now curious about the nature of Becky's gifts. Paul's smile remained, his curiosity piqued.
"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts, but I say the manner of gifting is more important than the gift," Paul remarked with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm touched that you thought of us before you departed California."
Becky reached into her bag and carefully extracted a bottle of wine. She extended it to Paul, a sincere look in her eyes. "It's a Cabernet Sauvignon from a winery of note in the Napa Valley," she explained. "One of the finest they've ever produced, brought straight from the cellar door during a road trip."
Paul took the bottle of wine, his eyes reading the label with interest. He lit up as he examined the bottle, his appreciation evident. "I've read articles about this winery in a few magazines," he said, a note of excitement in his voice. "An up-and-coming star in the region. This is a particularly good vintage. You have excellent taste, Becky."
Becky's cheeks flushed with pride, though she deflected the compliment modestly. "I had some help from the wonderful Sommeliers at the winery," she admitted with a smile, her eyes briefly meeting Paul's. She knew he was normally a man of few words, so she appreciated his commentary and response to the small gift.
Becky had always noticed the cold reticence in Paul as he navigated the world around him. Despite this, she held an appreciation for his vocal support of her ambition to study in California, even if it meant being far away from Dan and their hometown of Sommerfield. Tonight, she hoped to strengthen that understanding.
As the evening unfolded, Becky turned her attention to Maggie. She reached into her bag, extracting a gift basket filled with soaps, hand creams, and even a bath bomb, all carefully chosen from a boutique store near her university that specialized in homemade skincare and beauty products.
"I was a little careless when I first arrived in California," Becky began, "I had the worst sunburn after spending a weekend at the beach. One of my friends recommended I try the moisturizer from this store and it was amazing in soothing my sunburn. It's magic for the skin; I use their moisturizer almost every day."
Maggie accepted the bag with a gracious smile, her eyes naturally drawn to Becky's flawlessly smooth skin, which glowed with a faint hint of a healthy tan. She leaned in and planted a peck on Becky's cheek.
"Thanks, my dear," Maggie replied, her tone affectionate. "I doubt my skin could ever get as radiant as yours, but my hands can certainly do with a bit of help, having to slave away in the kitchen day in and day out." She cast a quick glance at Paul, who observed without a hint of emotion.
Mary, unable to contain her eagerness, cried out, "Me next!" She dashed over to Becky, almost sinking her hands into Becky's bag of treasures.
"Hey Mary, manners please," Dan chided gently, a firm but understanding tone in his voice. Mary stepped back and mouthed an apology to her brother, her eyes wide with innocence and enthusiasm.
Appreciating Mary's candor and genuine interest in her gift, Becky wasted no time and reached into her bag. She pulled out a plain white paper bag with a handle, roughly the size of a large cereal box. Becky handed it to Mary, who accepted it with wide-eyed anticipation, peering between the handles.
"Oh my God, it's not what I think it is, is it?" Mary exclaimed in excitement. She placed the bag on the counter and carefully took out a compactly folded sweater. The garment was bright with a vibrant cardinal shade, its yellow university logo proudly embroidered across the front.
Overwhelmed with delight, Mary held the sweater out for everyone to see, her joy exploding into a stream of gushing happiness. She immediately put it on, her joy set ablaze, her contagious happiness lighting up the room.
Becky chuckled at the sight of Mary twirling around in the sweatshirt, her blonde ponytail whipping around in sync with the animated joy she was experiencing.
"It looks amazing on you, Mary. You look like a freshman all ready for class." Becky remarked with a smile.
Paul nodded in agreement, a sense of fatherly pride evident in his voice. "Mary, you certainly look the part as a college student. Seriously consider it; you'll be following in Becky's footsteps before we know it."
Mary beamed, her eyes shining with dreams of the future. However, the notion of her father dictating her future triggered an automatic defense mechanism.
"I haven't decided yet if I'm going to college or not," Mary replied, her tone reflective. "But, Becky, you've done an excellent job promoting your university. I am considering following you to California." She put a friendly arm around Becky, her gaze shifting to the now-empty bag.
"Becky, what did you get for Dan?" Mary inquired, lifting Becky's bag and turning it upside down. The only thing that fell out was an old receipt, providing no further information.
Becky turned to Dan, her expression seemingly apologetic. "Sorry, Dan, I must have forgotten it. I'll drop it off next time you're around."
Dan nodded, taking it in stride, and took a sip from the cup before him.
A playful smile adorned Mary's face as she tightened her arms around Becky's shoulders. "Oh, wait, I get it now," Mary teased. "Becky, you being in Sommerfield is the gift for Dan." She laughed and playfully pretended to tie an imaginary gift ribbon around Becky, drawing laughter from Maggie and Dan. Becky looked on, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
Maggie intervened with a warm and motherly tone. "Oh, Mary, please stop teasing our guest. Becky, come sit down. I've got a lot of interesting dishes prepared. I hope you're feeling adventurous; your dad mentioned that you'll certainly be hungry."
Becky laughed at her dad's playful exaggeration. As Becky took her seat, Mary made a quick move to sit next to her, eager to reserve a prime spot next to the guest of honor. But Maggie, noticing this, had other plans on her mind.
"Mary, honey, come sit next to me," Maggie suggested with a gentle smile, her tone filled with a motherly warmth. "I need you close by to help me with serving the food."
Mary looked at her mother with a hint of confusion and petulance. She did not budge an inch, instead taking off the napkin ring and laying the napkin on her lap. Maggie rolled her eyes, growing more assertive.
"Mary, come sit next to me," Maggie said plainly and boldly. "Let Dan sit next to Becky, please. I need you next to me to help serve the food."
Mary hesitated for a moment, glancing at Dan, then at Becky. Without another word, she stood up and yielded her seat to Dan, who took his place beside Becky. It was his first opportunity to engage in conversation with her.
"You look nice today, the necklace really suits you." Dan remarked, his eyes resting on the delicate necklace around Becky's neck.
Becky smiled graciously. "Thank you. It's a gift from my grandmother."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Dan nodded, a faint hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Your grandmother must have been one elegant lady. Do you remember that time you invited me to visit your grandpa together? We were helping him pack up some of your grandmother's old things, and we found her diamond crown."
Becky's face lit up with the memory. "Yes, I remember! It was pretty fancy-looking, but you know, Dan, it's just a piece of costume jewelry. It's not actually worth that much."
Dan chuckled warmly. "Real or not, you seemed pretty thrilled to have found it. You were strutting around with it on your head like a queen, using a kitchen ladle as a makeshift scepter."
Becky basked in the joy of the recollection, Dan's prompt returning her to that special moment in time. In her mind's eye, she could vividly see her grandpa's small farmhouse, the old wallpaper in the living room, and the distressed fabric couch that always had a book resting on its broad armrest. She smiled gratefully at Dan, appreciating how, after all these years, none of those treasured memories had become lost in his mind. The connection between them, like a well-preserved vintage, had only grown richer with time.
Paul's deep and commanding voice resonated across the table, pulling Becky back from her thoughts to the formality of the dinner before her.
"Becky, how are your studies going?" Paul inquired, his eyes probing. "Are you keeping your grades up? Any opportunities for work experience or an internship?"
Becky met Paul's gaze, her tone earnest. "I managed to get an A grade average," she replied, her voice steady. "I'm doing my best to keep up the standard, but it's challenging juggling my retail job with a demanding study schedule."
"Don't get stuck and put too much effort into a dead-end part-time job," Paul admonished, his disapproving gaze shifting briefly to Dan before returning to Becky. "You need to focus on career-related opportunities. Retail work is a distraction; it will get you nowhere."
Becky nodded, acknowledging his perspective. "I somewhat agree," she conceded. "But there's no shame in making a living from retail. Without my part-time pay with overtime, I wouldn't be able to afford to live so close to the university. Plus, I wouldn't be able to afford any entertainment, which would be a tragedy living in a place as vibrant as Southern California. I've also applied to several places I'm interested in for an internship; I'm waiting to hear back from them."
Paul's searing stare softened slightly, a silent acknowledgment of her reasoning.
"Well, Paul, if we're done with the interrogation, shall we make a start on dinner?" Maggie interjected, her tone light and cheerful. "I want Becky and Dan to try my stir-fry noodles. I've been expanding my cooking horizons, and my latest muse is Asian cuisine. Here, try one of these spring rolls; I made them myself!"
Maggie extended a plate towards Becky, who graciously took two spring rolls, one for Dan and one for herself. A pleased smile graced Maggie's lips before she passed the plate to Mary.
With the meal now underway, Dan reached for the large bowl of stir-fry noodles before him. He skillfully served a generous portion onto Becky's plate before helping himself, their quiet camaraderie evident in the simple gesture.
The clinking of cutlery and soft chatter filled the air, anticipation hanging like a delicate veil over the table.
"Wait, before we eat, let's get some drinks for a toast," Paul's voice cut through the conversation, his tone firm and commanding. He instructed Mary to fetch the wine that Becky had gifted him, her steps quick and purposeful as she headed to the counter.
"Let's get a taste of this Napa red that flew all the way from the golden state," Paul said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "I'm itching to see if it lives up to the hype."
Mary handed the bottle to her father, along with a waiter's corkscrew. With practiced ease, Paul expertly cut the foil with the built-in knife and popped the cork cleanly.
"Are you drinking?" Paul asked, his gaze fixed on Becky.
"Yes, Paul, thank you," Becky replied with a smile. She reached for the empty glass before her, and Paul poured it full with the dark red liquid. He then poured himself a glass and another for Maggie, his movements precise and measured.
Meanwhile, Mary sneakily lifted her glass towards her father, hoping for his attention. Paul, however, remained oblivious to her subtle gesture as he put down the bottle, eliciting a soft sigh of disappointment from his daughter.
"Paul, Dan may want a glass as well," Maggie said, her voice firm.
Paul looked over to Dan, the first time that night he had acknowledged his presence. His eyes met Dan's briefly before he turned away swiftly, his head tilting back towards Maggie.
"Dan is a beer fanatic," Paul said dismissively, his tone laced with a touch of condescension. "He wouldn't know how to enjoy or savor a red wine."
Dan, determined not to let the opportunity slip away, spoke up immediately and confidently. "I'll have a glass, in Becky's honor," he declared, lifting his glass towards his father, a silent demand for acknowledgment.
Paul hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, but Maggie's piercing glare compelled him to comply. He picked up the bottle once more, pouring Dan a small sample of his treasured red wine, the gesture begrudging but undeniable.
The room fell into a brief, tense silence before Paul, the seasoned host, placed the wine bottle down with a thud. He lifted his wine glass, the crystal catching the soft glow of the dining room lights, a gesture honed through years of navigating corporate events and gatherings.
"I offer a toast to our lovely guest this evening," Paul announced, his voice carrying a tone of sophistication and warmth. "Someone who is beloved by our family, whom we have missed dearly. To Becky."
"To Becky and Dan," Maggie corrected without hesitation, her eyes glancing briefly at her son.
They clinked their glasses together, the delicate chime filling the air. Mary, not wanting to be left out, joined the toast with her glass tumbler of soft drink. They all took a sip of their respective beverages, savoring the moment. Paul, ever the connoisseur, immediately shared his thoughts on the wine, declaring it excellent and full-bodied.
With the toast complete, the meal officially began. The gentle clanging of cutlery resonated in the air as they indulged in the carefully prepared dishes. Amid the feast, Maggie paused, her gaze shifting across the table to Dan, her desire to understand her son better evident in her concerned expression.
"Dan, how are things in Millerton? Are you settling in okay with all the changes you've been through of late?" Maggie inquired, her voice gentle, genuine concern etched on her face.
"I've been good, Mom," Dan replied, "I've been keeping busy with working at the deli. I've been going the extra mile for the owner, experimenting with a few new products and recipes."
Maggie smiled, her relief evident at seeing Dan immerse himself in new endeavors.
"What's the point of going the extra mile as a lowly employee working in a deli?" Paul interjected, his tone sharp and critical. "Look at Becky, she's got her head in the right place. You've got to think about your own career. Get an internship somewhere respectable. Not some small-time shop like a deli or a granary."
His stern gaze turned sharply towards Mary, surprising her with its intensity.
"Mary, don't just fall in with any old crowd that pops up in front of you," Paul continued, his tone firm. "You need to reconsider your part-time job at the granary or else you'll end up unremarkable like the people that work there. You should be taking note of what Becky is doing. She is a capable and ambitious young woman, which is what you should be as well."
Maggie sighed almost imperceptibly, realizing that Paul's stern advice had brought an end to her line of questioning. Unwilling to antagonize her husband further, she shifted her attention back to her meal.
Sensing the lull, Becky took advantage of her status as the guest to change the topic. "Dan, what do you do in your spare time in Millerton?" she asked, her tone friendly. "Are you still playing baseball? Do they have a team in Millerton?"
"I'm keeping busy, don't worry," Dan reassured her. "I've given up baseball though. Ever since your father stopped coaching the Sommerfield team, I lost interest in playing competitively. I've picked up a few new hobbies, something a bit more relaxed but I still keeping up my fitness routine."
Becky grinned, "Yeah, I can tell," she teased. "You're looking a little bulkier than I remember."
Dan chuckled, a good-natured expression on his face. "Must be all that salami I'm carrying around at the deli," he joked, lightening the atmosphere at the table. The conversation, though shifted, continued to flow. A sense of conviviality began to develop despite the underlying tensions.
"And how's living by yourself treating you?" Becky inquired, "I bet you miss having your mom around to clean up after you."
Dan chuckled, his eyes flickering towards Maggie who was listening intently, absorbing every word with undivided attention, trying to grasp the nuances of his response.
"I've actually become quite domesticated," Dan replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "I've got my weekly cleaning routine down pat, and I'm cooking all my meals daily. It's certainly a lot easier when I work at a deli; I get a great selection of ingredients. I haven't touched a TV dinner for over a year."
Maggie watched with pride as Dan spoke, a genuine smile forming on her lips. She took a sip from her wine glass, her heart content to hear about his steady and self-sufficient life.
Mary, ever curious, chimed in, directing her attention to Becky. "Hey, what about you, Becky? What's life like living in a university dorm? Are there parties and things happening all the time?"
Becky looked around at her audience, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she tailored her response.
"It's nothing like the movies," Becky answered, her tone sincere. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. It's a lot of studying and stressed people crammed into tiny dorm rooms. There's the occasional student event and dorm party, but it's hardly endless partying and fun."
Mary laughed, undeterred. "Well, maybe you're studying the wrong course, Becky," she teased. "I'm all about the 'study hard, party even harder' philosophy when it comes to choosing courses."
Becky chuckled at Mary's bold declaration, finding her enthusiasm refreshing.
Maggie interjected, her expression a mix of amusement and mild concern. "Mary, it's hardly confidence-inspiring when you brandish that kind of carefree attitude."
Turning back towards Becky, Maggie continued the conversation, trying to maintain the lighthearted atmosphere. "So, Becky, living by yourself, have you become a bit of a kitchen wizard like Dan has become?"
Becky took a deep breath, her honesty evident in her response. "Unfortunately not," she admitted. "I do cook at home, but my repertoire is limited to a few simple staples like Greek salad and spaghetti bolognese."
Dan, never missing a chance to tease Becky, offered his opinion, "Oh, those are rookie dishes, maybe I can show you a thing or two about home cooking."
Becky raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh really, Danny Fenton?" she retorted. "You gonna show me a thing or two, are you?"
Dan grinned mischievously. "Yeah, you know what a ragu is?" he asked. "My tagliatelle al ragu is going to blow your spaghetti out of the water."
Maggie, picking up on the jovial vibe between them, joined in with a light-hearted comment. "Well, Dan, if you care to show your face around here a bit more, you can treat us to your oh-so-fancy tagliatelle ragu."
Dan chuckled, his playful demeanor intact. "I may, but I'm still more inclined to slow-cook a brisket if I had to cook for guests."
Maggie smiled warmly at him. "Brisket or ragu, it's just nice to have you around the house." she said, her voice filled with genuine affection. She looked longingly at Dan, her eyes reflecting the sentiment shared by Becky and Mary.
"And you too Becky," Maggie added, her gaze shifting towards Becky. "Remember when you were in high school, you'd occasionally bring around a small box of pastries from Emily's bakery. You and Dan would both hunker down to do your homework on this very dining table."
Becky grinned, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "Oh yes, Emily would make those tiny little jam pastries extra sweet," she recalled. "It goes so well with your peppermint tea. Here's a small confession: my mom wouldn't let me buy those normally because she said all that sugar would rot my teeth. I used your house as my secret den to indulge in sweet treats."
Maggie smiled, a mixture of fondness and surprised amusement in her eyes,
"Well, you are welcome to have any sweets here whenever you want. We can be your refuge for your sweet tooth; I won't tell your mother," she said.
"Speaking of which, I made a strawberry delight for dessert tonight. It's a bit of an old favorite that I know you'd love."
Becky looked at Maggie with a bemused smile, marveling at the unexpected coincidence. She held back a laugh as she replied. "Maggie, how did you know? I feel so blessed and spoiled at the same time."
"Well, a mother knows. I notice a lot of things that I don't let on," Maggie replied with a knowing smile. "It's also Dan's favorite too, so I had to make it."
Mary, feeling a bit left out, turned her attention to her mother, her eyes narrowed in accusation. "Mom, what about my favorite?" she protested. "Just because I'm the youngest here doesn't mean my preferences don't count."
Maggie met her daughter's gaze with a patient smile. "Mary, what did we have for dinner two days ago?" she asked, her voice gentle yet firm.
Mary furrowed her brows, pondering for a moment before her posture deflated. "Creamy chicken casserole," she replied meekly.
"Exactly. And whose favorite is that?"
"Mine," Mary admitted quietly, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"And last weekend, I made French onion soup with crunchy garlic bread. Now, who requested that?" Maggie continued, her eyes softening as she looked at her daughter.
Mary looked at Becky with cute, downcast eyes. "Me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Maggie's smile widened. "And honey, I also made rainbow jello cups for a second dessert tonight, I even added an extra layer of lemon jello just for you."
Mary's eyes lit up with excitement, her hands coming together in a clap of joy.
"See, Mary, you have made your presence felt at every meal we have," Maggie said, her voice warm and reassuring.
"Yes, of course. It's only right. It's because I have such good tastes and plenty of good ideas," Mary replied, her confidence returning as she beamed at her mother, proud of her culinary influence on the family.
Dan and Becky chuckled, appreciating the vibrant energy that Mary managed to inject into even the simplest moments.
The group continued their dinner, relishing Maggie's hospitality and the shared stories of the past four years. Laughter filled the air as the tension seemed to ease ever so slightly. As the night wore on, decadent desserts were savored as the hour grew late.
Mary, brimming with curiosity about Becky's time in California, leaned in closely. "Becky, there's still so much I want to ask and talk to you about," she whispered, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes.
Even as her voice grew tired, her body weary from the evening's festivities she persisted with her questioning.
"I want to chat with you without these nosy folks around," Mary whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, "Why don't you stay overnight? We can have a sleepover! It's been forever since we did that."
"Oh Mary, I can't impose like that. Plus I don't have a change of clothes. But Mary, you're on summer break aren't you? How about we meet up during the week for a coffee or an outing if you're free?"
Mary's face lit up. "That's a brilliant idea!" she exclaimed. "You know the Quaint Quill?"
Becky nodded, recalling the dusty old bookshop in the center of town. "Yes I remember, it's quaint alright but their book collection is limited, and there's no place to sit and chat."
Mary beamed with insider knowledge. "Oh, Becky, get with the times. The Quaint Quill has new owners. They've gutted the old shop, put in a café with an irresistible pumpkin spice latte, and revitalized their entire book inventory."
Becky nodded, intrigued. "Wow, really? I feel so out of touch. We must check it out; I might find a worthy book to sink my teeth into."
Mary's excitement bubbled over at the mention of books. She reached across the table to grab Becky's hands. "Becky, how do you feel about teenage vampire romance stories? I just bought book seven, and I can lend you the first six."
Becky considered for a moment. "Umm, that's not my usual genre, but I'm willing to try anything you ardently recommend."
Mary couldn't contain her enthusiasm. "Oh Becky, I wholeheartedly recommend this series, it's definitely a winner! Come, let me grab it for you."
She turned to Maggie and Paul for approval, receiving nods of consent. With a huge smile, Mary took Becky's hand and almost tore her from the table. "Sorry, Dan," she teased, "you're not invited; this is a girls-only thing."
Laughter echoed between Mary and Becky as they disappeared towards the foyer, heading up the grand staircase to Mary's room.
Dan shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. Although he missed their presence at the table, he was relieved to be spared conversations about the scandalous love lives of fictional teenage vampires that seemed to captivate Mary so much. He turned his attention back to his parents, ready to face their hot and cold reception once again.