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“Can I tell Mom?” was Ricky’s next question.
“No!” Sage cried, and then immediately regretted her outburst. As if shocked, poor Ricky leaped a step back. Sage hadn’t meant to raise her voice. “Sorry,” she told Ricky, squeezing his arm. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
“I think you should marry Ethan,” Ricky whispered. “Ethan’s a fun guy.”
“Give the kid credit,” Walt inserted knowingly, as if he’d been right all along.
“Walt,” Rafaelle cried. “Would you kindly leave well enough alone!”
She must have given him a swift kick under the table, because Walt yelped, “What was that for?”
His wife ignored the comment.
Maria directed her comment to Sage. “Forgive my father.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Walt insisted, glaring down the table at his daughter.
“Could we please change the subject?” Ethan asked when he apparently found his voice.
“Yes, please,” Sage added.
Thankfully, nearly everyone had finished their meal. Sage found the exchange between Walt and the family rather amusing. Dads would be dads all around the world.
“I apologize if my dad embarrassed you,” he said, following Sage into the kitchen.
“Not nearly as much as he embarrassed you,” she teased.
His siblings followed them into the other room, carting dirty dishes. They worked together to clean the kitchen while Rafaelle brought down what she needed for baking cookies.
When Ethan and his siblings finished with the kitchen, Sage listened as they chatted among themselves, debating what games to play.
“Monopoly is always a favorite.”
“No way,” Maria argued. “Tony always wins.”
“That’s because I am a businessman.”
“Give me a break.”
“Jenga is fun.”
“Yeah,” Ian agreed. “Let’s play Jenga.”
Taking Sage by the elbow, Ethan guided her to the far corner of the kitchen.
“Are you sure you’re up for this? Let me warn you, game time with my family can get a little crazy.”
“Are you kidding? This sounds like fun.”
The rest of the evening ran smoothly. While Rafaelle baked cookies with the grandchildren and Ricky, Ethan and his siblings played Jenga. The last time Sage played the game, she’d been in high school, which felt like eons ago.
The women formed one team and the men the other. Although it wasn’t balanced, the women insisted they were clearly so much smarter than their counterparts that it wouldn’t matter.
It wasn’t long before they were all absorbed in the game. More times than Sage could count, she dissolved into fits of laughter.
It barely seemed any time had passed when Ricky appeared holding on to a plate of homemade cookies.
“Look, Auntie Sage. Real cookies.”
