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“Jerome and Ginny Bennett are your parents?”

“Oh, so you’ve met my mom?”

“I had dinner at their house.”

“I didn’t know that,” Katherine said. “But I guess it makes sense. Mom usually insists that Daddy bring everyone new to the department over for dinner. Wait… did they meet Julia and Libby?”

“No, it was just me. I went there the day before you and I met.”

Matthew remembered being led through the big house by Katherine’s mother as she showed him countless photos of her children and grandchildren, sharing stories along the way.

“It was nice,” he added. “But they seem so different. It made me wonder how they met.”

“High school,” she said, then smiled at the thought of her parents and how fate had brought them together. “Daddy’s family came from Glasgow, Kentucky, around the same time my mom’s family came from a town called Whitby in Yorkshire County, England. Both my grandfathers were engineers who relocated their families to Windsong to work in the pulp and paper industry during my parents’ sophomore year. Just two fish outta water, destined to meet, is what Daddy says.”

Matthew smiled. “I think we understand the destined-to-meet part.”

“I think so, too. Any chance she made you roast beef for dinner?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Just a hunch. Sunday roast happens to be a Ginny Bennett sign of approval. She must’ve heard good things about you.”

“I’d never had Yorkshire pudding before.”

“Did you like it?”

“Maybe too much. I’ve been craving it ever since. I never knew such a thing existed. I always thought a Yorkshire was a yappy little dog.”

Katherine laughed. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

“Was it your mom that got you into cooking?”

“Yes and no. I actually think it’s part of my genetic code. Both my grandmothers are amazing cooks. They’ve entered cooking and baking competitions my entire life. If they’re not competing, they’re preparing to compete.”

“Sounds serious.”

“You have no idea. Mama is what we call Daddy’s mom. She follows tried-and-true family recipes and rarely lets you step foot in her kitchen. She’s always been a strict believer in Southern hospitality, so for her, even though we’re family, we’restill considered company, and company doesn’t lift a finger in Mama’s house. On the rare occasion that she does let you help, it’s only to do simple things like peel potatoes or shuck corn. And she’s real particular about how even those things get done.”

“What about your mom’s mother?”

“That would be Nan. She’s a lot more easygoing. Whenever we went to her house, she would always teach me something new or ask for my opinion about flavor combinations. But most importantly, she taught me to never give up even if I burned something or forgot an ingredient. She cooks a lot by instinct. You know, a pinch of this, a handful of that, kind of thing. I guess you could say that both of them are an inspiration to me. Lots of old-school, made-from-scratch kind of cooking.”

“I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

“That’s what they say.”

“Well, you should believe it,” Matthew said as Katherine yawned again. “You should probably get some sleep.”

“I know, but I like talking to you.”

“What else do you wanna talk about?”

Katherine thought about it as she burrowed even deeper into the blankets. “Do you think you’ll ever want more children?”

“Whoa!” Matthew chuckled. “That was quite the change in topic.”

As she tried to apologize, he stopped her. “Yes, I would like to have more children. But I could understand if you didn’t. Not to mention, Libby would probably love to have you all to herself.”