Two Moon Bay by Alyssa Johnson

Author:Alyssa Johnson [Johnson, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-31T22:00:00+00:00

Despite my mad dash home from practice, and the race against time to finish preparing before my guests arrived, Dixie’s honorary dinner party was a big success. Considering that it was a small gathering - really just a warm-up for the actual surprise party I planned to throw for her, Stump, and Chuy when the house was finished, it was even better than expected. The guys would be thrilled, I knew, and Dixie would be downright delighted, which would make the surprise even better. Plus, I knew the girls would love to help me plan it. So even though tonight was more of a personal thank you to Dixie on a smaller scale, it was a great excuse to get together with some people who meant a lot to me. Dixie, especially; she really had been so helpful to me since day one. And I felt like she was a friend, now, too.

So, at about quarter to eight that night, as we sat at the large farmhouse table I’d picked up at an antique store, my guests sat back in their chairs, looking thoroughly stuffed.

Brooks tossed his napkin on the table. “That was delicious, Riley, thank you.” He put a hand over his stomach. “As much as I’d like to, I couldn’t eat another bite.”

Alex piped up from her seat, “Riley, may we be excused?”

“You may,” I told her. “After you and your sister clear the table.” Catching the grimace she tried to hide, I gave her a look as she rolled her eyes.

Despite Alex’s attitude, the girls got right to work, eager to ditch the adults and hang with their friends. Capri scurried around the table, gathering up the plates, as Alex huffed over to the sink. Evangeline and Lily talked quietly, making polite conversation as they waited for their friends to finish up with their chores.

Swallowing her last sip of wine, Dixie set down her glass. She proclaimed with an exasperated sigh, “Well, I just don’t know about that Cal, y’all.” She shook her head at me. “He said he was pickin’ up somethin’ special to go with our meal, but, shoot,” she said, glancing down at her dainty gold watch. “That was thirty minutes ago!”

She was right. We’d held dinner for as long as we dared, but by about seven-fifteen, the girls had been getting antsy, and the twice-baked potatoes were starting to de-puff; they really are best when served hot. Knowing there would be plenty of left-overs for when Cal did arrive, we dug in.

I was just about to reassure Dixie that he would surely be along any minute now, when the doorbell rang.

Capri, holding a stack of dinner plates in her hands on the way to the kitchen, suddenly veered off course and went running for the door. “I’ll get it!” she yelled, the plates clattering together, sending a ceramic panic through the air.

I flinched, expecting them to go tumbling to the floor. They were handmade by an artisan from Maggie Valley, and, even though they hadn’t cost much, to me they were priceless.

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