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.“We’ll clear the table and clean up.”“Really?” Sean asked excitedly.“Boy-o, don’t you be gettin’ too excited.” Galen gave his little brother a stern look.“Ma told you and Colin that you’re to wash the dishes.”Laney tried not to look amused at Sean’s crestfallen expression.Galen managed his brothers well.I ought to praise him about that.It can’t be easy trying to be both brother and father to them.“It’s pure nonsense, me not helping clean up.” Mrs.O’Sullivan’s forehead wrinkled as she looked at the table.“We insist,” Laney said.“Yup.We shore do.” Ivy pulled one of Mrs.O’Sullivan’s 161 aprons on over her dress.“At least let me take the rest of the milk and cheese out to the springhouse.”“One trip,” Ruth allowed.Mr.Grubb stayed at the table, and Laney didn’t reach for any of the bowls or platters near him.Everyone else had eaten plenty and enjoyed lively conversation.Mr.Grubb had made a few terse comments, but he’d mostly just sat there and continued to eat.And eat.And eat.After having seen Ishmael and Ivy, Laney had expected Mr.Grubb to be mere skin and bones, but he wasn’t.Though lean of limb, he boasted a fairly generous belly.Witnessing how he ate, Laney suspected he took his fill of whatever meager meals Ivy cooked before his children got much.It seemed rude to be clearing the table, but he hadn’t shown a single sign of stopping any time soon.Josh, Ishmael, and Galen stayed at the table to be companionable, but they’d long since given up their plates.Hilda didn’t bat an eye.She set a hand on Josh’s shoulder, then leaned over and dragged the turkey platter toward herself.Mr.Grubb glowered at her, and she glowered right back.Twice more, Hilda and Mr.Grubb went through a silent battle.Hilda won those, too.Laney, Ivy, and Ruth all stood off to the side, gaping at the war.Mr.Grubb’s bushy eyebrows beetled, and the left side of his unkempt mustache raised in a soundless snarl as Hilda hooked her thumb inside the rim of the bowl of mashed sweet potatoes.Then Hilda surprised them all.She pushed the bowl straight in front of him, bumping his sopped-clean plate to the side.“Seeing as how you’re appreciating those, you go on ahead and eat your fill.” She gave him a toothy smile.“Would you like a little more brown sugar on them?”“Don’t mind if I do.” As Hilda added brown sugar, he motioned for her to keep spooning in more and more.My gracious! There have to be almost two cups of sweet potatoes there, and he’s going to eat them all straight from the serving bowl!A moment later, Hilda stood back and rested her hands on her hips.“Does my heart good, seeing a man who’s unafraid to eat.”Mr.Grubb shot a dark look at Ivy.“Ain’t often I getta et anything decent.The gal ain’t got a scrap of talent for cookin’.Made squirrel pie yesternoon that set like an anvil in my belly.”He has that big tummy from eating her food.How can he complain? He’s dreadfully mean.Laney reverted to what Mama and Miss Genevieve taught her to do when her expression would transmit her opinion: she dipped her head and lowered her eyes.“The squirrel pie come from Ma’s recipe.” Ishmael’s shoulder hitched in a tight shrug.“Sis always did what Ma showed her—to make it and let it sit overnight so’s the flavor comes up.”The muscles in Ivy’s jaw twitched.She baked that for today.He ruined it just to spite her.What a dreadful man.Laney shot Galen a pleading look.“The hopping John that Ivy brought tasted wonderful,” Galen countered.Laney watched how he folded his arms on the table and leaned forward a little.“As a matter of fact, if I hadn’t seen her bring it in, I would have said Ma made it.”Josh forced a chuckle, “And I would have said Hilda had.They’ve probably swapped recipes.”Galen slapped his hand on the table for emphasis.“That’s among the grandest compliments I can give a woman—that her cooking is as fine as Ma’s.Isn’t that right, Laney?”“Definitely.” Laney turned to Ivy.“Remember how you sug-gested fixing up oatmeal by adding dried apple bits along with cinnamon? We tried it.It’s delicious.”The scraping of his spoon against the bowl didn’t cover Mr.Grubb’s rude snort.“We all have different tastes.” Hilda’s tone sounded too hearty.Laney stepped back and watched as her housekeeper bobbed her head.“Yeah, different tastes.Mr.Grubb, there—he’s a meat-and-’taters man.Isn’t that so?”Mr.Grubb nodded as he shoveled the last bite into his mouth.He pushed the bowl away, rubbed his belly, and let out a loud belch.“All full up?” Hilda asked.“Uh-huh.” A self-satisfied smile flashed across his face.“Couldn’t wedge another bite in sidewise.”“I suspected as much,” Hilda said.“That’s maturity showing.”“Maturity?” Mrs.O’Sullivan gave them all a puzzled look as she came in the door.Hilda picked up the bowl and tilted it.“Mr.Grubb finished off your mashed sweet potatoes.”“Did he now?” Surprise and shock mingled in Mrs.O’Sullivan’s expression
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