Page 65 of Accidentally in Love

“Porter would be good for winter too.”

She pointed at me. “True. You’ll figure it out. Enough chit-chat, big guy, let’s get to work.”

We worked together in the kitchen, and I realized how nice it was. It was a welcome occasion to cook beside her and ask about her day. I was hit with a sense of déjà vu of my parents in this kitchen cooking together.

A memory flashed in my mind of a Thanksgiving when I was a kid. Mom was making the turkey while Dad peeled potatoes at the counter next to her. He played that awful jazz music and twirled her around in the kitchen. My parents had been so in love. I always wanted that kind of marriage.

A hand on my shoulder pulled me from the memory. “Hey, where did you go?” Avery asked.

I smiled at her and put a hand on her growing stomach. “Just lost in thought.”

It looked like she wanted to say something, but then the doorbell rang, and the moment slipped away. Avery pulled away from me and wiped her hands on a hand towel. I heard her greeting someone at the door and then footsteps toward the kitchen.

Avery’s dad was lanky and tall, with a head of hair that had gone completely white.

“Dad, this is Nolan,” Avery introduced me.

I put out a hand to him, and he shook it. “Good to meet you, sir.”

He laughed and pulled his hand away. “Sir? Come on, kid, we’re family now. You can call me Sal. Or Dad.”

“Sure, Sal. You want a beer?”

He smirked at his daughter. “I like this man already, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to finishing the rest of dinner. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers. I popped the tops and pulled glasses out of the cabinet. I poured the beers into the glasses and brought them over to the table.

“Oh glasses, you’re fancy,” he joked and took a sip. “Oh, that’s a good beer.”

“I told you!” I said to Avery.

“Still gross!” she teased back as she carried the casserole dish of the chicken parm over to the table.

I got up and brought the pasta pot over to the table to help her. Her dad smiled at us from over his beer glass, and the three of us filled our plates for dinner.

“How are you feeling, Avery?” Sal broke the silence.

She chewed thoughtfully. “Okay, I guess. I’m past the morning sickness, just tired.”

Her dad nodded. “That’s normal. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I squeezed her hand under the table in comfort.

She chewed her food in thought and let the question hang in the air. “I was scared of telling you and then miscarrying. I wanted to wait. Apparently, Gemma didn’t get that memo.”

“I understand, sweetheart. It would have been nice to hear it from you, though.”

“Dad,” Avery started. “I was gonna tell you, I just wasn’t ready yet.”

“You felt sick at Thanksgiving, didn’t you?”

Avery nodded.

He narrowed his eyes at Avery. “Is that why I found all that Drakesville Lager in the garage the next day? I thought that was weird because I thought for sure I picked up some beer for you to drink with the meal.”

Avery cringed. “Yeah. I was scared to tell you all, and Gemma was helping cover for me.”

“Ah, sweetheart, you should have told us.”