It's Not Over
Usual disclaimer - see Chapter 1 for the full details, but I own nothing, all the people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!
Chapter 9
Dacey and Glenn met in the living area of the guesthouse a little later. Both wore casual clothes, jeans and a t shirt for Dacey, while Glenn wore a chambray workshirt, but they both carried denim jackets to wear. They also both wore baseball caps - Dacey's hair was back in its usual thick braid, and Glenn's was pulled back into a ponytail. From experience, they both knew that with their hair covered by the caps and jackets, and with sunglasses on, they were about as anonymous as they could get in public.
They walked around to the garage, which Mark had indeed left open for them, and to Glenn's surprise, Dacey let him drive without a word. She just grinned at him from the passenger seat.
"What? It's my day off!"
He laughed and backed the truck out of the garage, and drove out onto the road. There was nowhere in particular they wanted to go, but Dacey had seen a few places when she'd been out on Mark's bike. The first of these was a sprawling antique store in a barn. He raised his eyebrows when she asked him to stop.
"Please, Glenn? I love prowling stores like these, it's like living history."
He bit back on a grumble and climbed out of the truck, locking it and following her into the dark recesses of the large building. Taking his sunglasses off, he looked around in surprise. The old barn still had a lot of character from its previous use, and the antiques here were not the fancy stuff he'd expected, but more old and much cherished items dating from simpler times.
Dacey smiled at him, tucking her own sunglasses into a pocket of her jacket. "Relax, I'm not planning on buying anything. I've got an apartment barely big enough to swing a cat in. But someday, I'd like to have a house, and to furnish it with stuff like this."
He looked at her afresh as they roamed through the barn, watched her brush her fingers over the silky dark finish of old tables and pick up china teapots and tureens. She conversed with the owner about a bedwarmer, the copper gleaming in the sunlight that came through the tall windows in the side of the barn, and for a moment, he could see her living in the time of these items.
As they climbed back into Mark's truck, he smiled at her. "I'm learning new things about you every day, Dacey. Where to next?"
She slid her sunglasses back on and smiled back at him. "Hmmmm, let's see. Oh I know, head on down the road a bit and then take a left at the lights."
He followed her directions, and blinked in surprise as they parked along a street that looked like it could have come off a postcard from Germany. They browsed through folk art stores, galleries and boutiques, and indulged in icecream cones which they ate while wandering through an open air market full of stalls of handmade items and fresh produce.
Dacey picked up a jar of preserved peaches with a wink at Glenn. "Think Isabelle would let me use her kitchen to make peach cobbler for dessert? My gran's recipe for it is to die for."
He pulled out his wallet and handed over the money to the stallholder with a grin, taking the paper sack with two large jars. "Girl, you just said the magic words. You make peach cobbler, and I can guarantee it'll be eaten - I may even let someone else have some."
She laughed, and tucked her arm through his. "Done!"
They wandered a bit longer, and then Dacey looked at her watch. "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel the need for something a bit more substantial than an icecream cone. Where should we have lunch?"
Glenn looked around, and then smiled. "I think I know the perfect spot," he said, glancing over his shoulder.
Dacey followed his gaze, eyebrows raising when she saw the deli. "Well, sure, sandwiches would be fine, but I'm not sure the deli has a lunch counter, Glenn."
He smiles, taking her chin gently in his hand and turning her head, pointing with his other hand to the sunshine reflecting off the waters of a lake a little way in the distance. "I'm thinking we grab a couple of sandwiches to go, and then see if we can't find a nice picnic spot near that lake."
She smiled up at him. "I like the way you think. Add a few frosty beverages to that scenario, and you got yourself a deal."
"Done," he laughed, and they made their way to the deli.
With directions from the deli owner, along with a picnic lunch consisting of sandwiches, pickles and a tub of potato salad and slaw, plus bottles of root beer, a few minutes later Glenn was turning the truck into the parking area next to the lake's picnic grounds, blessedly almost deserted on a weekday. They found a table near the water and spread out their lunch, and Dacey slipped off her jacket, giving him a sunny smile.
"This is damn near perfect, Glenn. I'm glad you suggested it."
He grinned at her, laying his own jacket on the seat beside him. "My pleasure, Dace." He used the opener on Mark's keyring to open the root beers and handed one to her, holding his own up to her. "Here's to free days!"
She clinked her bottle to his with a grin. "I'll drink to that!"
They talked and laughed as they ate, their easy friendship still very much intact. Once they had finished their lunch and cleared away the trash, Dacey stretched and looked around the park. "What do you say to a walk, Glenn?"
He nodded. They left their jackets in the truck and set off along the water's edge, and Glenn smiled as he took Dacey's hand. "Did you ever live around here growing up, Dace?"
She shook her head. "I lived in Dallas and Austin with my folks. I did stay here for a bit between gigs with my trainer's job, but I had no idea Mark lived here. It's a nice part of Texas though, real pretty."
"You must have seen a lot of places, growing up the way you did," he said.
"I guess. To be honest, when you're a kid, one army base looks pretty much like every other one. I do remember going through castles in Europe, though, and thinking they were pretty cool. And there's a castle not far from my gran's in Ireland. The first time I came to the States, I guess I was about seven - I was so confused because everything looked really new to me. In Europe, the cities have a real sense of age about them. Here, well, what's a couple of hundred years when you've been around cities that have stood for five hundred or more?"
He nodded thoughtfully, putting his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer. Her arm went around his waist, and their steps slowed a bit. He liked how well they seemed to fit together. The only sounds were the water lapping at the edge of the lake and birds in the trees. It was peaceful and quiet, and they didn't have to share it with anyone. He pressed a kiss to her hair, hugging her gently. She looked up at him, and they stood still for a moment before he bent down to kiss her.
She leaned up to him eagerly and then took his hand, leading him over to a patch of soft grass by the lake. "Let's just sit for a while," she said, sinking down gracefully into her usual lotus position.
He sat down beside her and leaned in to kiss her again, his arms around her, pulling her gently closer to him. She wound her arms around his neck, her lips parting under his. It didn't take long for them to find themselves lying back on the sweet smelling grass, arms around one another, kissing and caressing. His hand slid slowly up her body from her hip to cup one full breast, and she moaned softly against his lips, arching her back to press herself more against his hand, her nipple hardening through the soft fabric of her t shirt.
The feel of her body against his was like a low level electric charge, making his nerve endings tingle. But he retained enough control to break the kiss, gently brushing his lips over her as he propped himself on one elbow beside her. His free hand continued to caress her gently, and she smiled up at him, her hand trailing up his arm.
"We're going slow, remember?"
He nodded, his thumb teasing at the sideswell of her breast. "Yes, we are."
She smiled again. Everything in her life seemed to have been happening at breakneck pace lately, so she was more than happy than to let their relationship develop in its own time. They lay together, talking quietly, kissing gently, happy just to be together alone, something that didn't often happen with their busy schedules. Although they were luckier than most, because they got the chance to work and travel together, which helped them keep their friendship strong.
Distant sounds of laughter finally took their attention away from one another, and they sat up, looking over towards where the truck was parked. Two carloads of teenagers had just pulled up, and Glenn looked at his watch. "I guess school is out."
Dacey leaned against him, nodding. "Guess so. Perhaps we should think about heading back. I'd like to give Isabelle a hand to get things ready for tonight, and I did promise to bake peach cobbler too."
Glenn grinned, his arm around her. "And I have no intention of letting you slide on that promise, missy."
She laughed. "Way to go, no pressure there Glenn. What if it isn't as tasty as you think it will be?"
His response was to lean in and kiss her deeply, his voice a husky murmur as their lips parted, "Your kisses taste as good as I imagined they would. Relax, you'll never disappoint me, Dacey."
She could only smile at that, and take the hand he offered to help her up. Hand in hand, they walked back along the edge of the lake. The teens who had just arrived had laid claim to the picnic tables, lounging around them, talking and laughing. One of the boys looked up as they drew closer, crossing the park towards Mark's truck, and stared.
"Hey, I think that's Kane!" he nudged one of his friends, who turned to look.
"Man, I think you're right, and I think that's Ginger with him!"
The first boy grinned and called out, "Hey, Kane!"
Dacey looked up at Glenn with a grin. "Dude, you've just been busted!"
The girls at the table looked around as their friend called out, and one of them waved, "Hi Ginger!"
Glenn laughed. "Looks like you've been busted too, dude!"
She chuckled, and both of them turned to wave at the kids, all of whom were looking now. One of the first lessons she'd learned about the big show was to smile, wave, be polite and keep moving. If they stopped to sign autographs, they could be stuck forever. Particularly if someone started using a cellphone to let all their other friends know what was happening.
Glenn let go of her hand to dig the keys to the truck out of his jeans pocket and Dacey made her way to the passenger door. She risked a quick glance over at the teens and was relieved to see that, while they were still looking over at her and Glenn, no one had made a move to follow them to ask for autographs or pictures. She slipped into the truck when Glenn unlocked it, and smiled at him.
He smiled back. "We look like we're gonna make the perfect getaway here, Dace."
She chuckled, picking up her jacket and digging through the pockets for her cellphone. "Start the truck, Glenn, and let's make sure of it. I just want to call Mark and Isabelle and make sure they don't need us to bring anything back with us."
Glenn put the truck into gear and reversed out of the carpark while Dacey called the Calaways. Isabelle assured her they had everything they needed, and Dacey checked to make sure she had all the ingredients she would need for the cobbler, while Glenn made her laugh by making drooling noises beside her. She ended the call and shook her head at Glenn.
"You're a goof, Glenn."
He grinned. "You only just working this out now?"
She laughed. "No, just thought it was worth mentioning. You know your way back to the house?" Her eyes closed as she leaned back on the seat.
"Sure. You okay, Dace?"
"Yeah, it just feels a bit bright out, I want to rest my eyes," she said, and he reached over to pat her hand.
She took his hand, bringing it up to her lips to kiss it softly, smiling. He kept darting looks at her as he drove back to the Calaways, but when he parked the truck in the garage, her eyes opened and she smiled. "Much better. I haven't spent a lot of time in Texas lately, I guess I forgot how bright the sun can be here."
He leaned over to kiss her lightly. "Come on then, let's get inside and out of the sun. It probably isn't much good for us creatures of darkness anyway," he grinned, and she laughed, slipping out of the truck, snagging her jacket as she went.
He collected the bag of preserved peaches and locked the truck, leaving the keys on the board as they made their way into the house. Isabelle's voice came from the kitchen as they opened the door.
"We're back here, come on through."
Glenn and Dacey made their way to the kitchen, smiling at Isabelle and Maeve, who stood at the island bench on a kitchen chair beside her mother, an apron tied around her waist.
"Uncle Glenn! I'm helping mommy make salad," Maeve announced, showing them how she was tearing up lettuce leaves, a mite too enthusiastically perhaps.
Glenn lay his jacket over a chair and set down the paper sack, the bottle of preserves clinking gently. "I can see that, Maeve."
Maeve pointed at the paper sack. "What's that?"
Dacey smiled. "Those are jars of peaches, Maeve. I promised Uncle Glenn I'd make peach cobbler for dessert tonight." She thought for a moment. "Perhaps you'd like to help me cook too?" She looked at Isabelle. "That is, if mommy says it's okay."
Maeve looked at her mother. "Can I help Dacey cook, Máthair?"
Dacey didn't miss that, and Isabelle smiled at her and then looked at her daughter. "If Dacey would like some help, I think that would be alright." She looked then at Dacey, who grinned.
"It's okay, Isabelle. My gran taught me to make peach cobbler, so I can teach Maeve the way she taught me. But I hope I didn't mess up any plans you might have had for dessert. The peaches at the markets just looked so good."
"Not at all Dacey. I was going to defrost a pie, but the cobbler sounds wonderful. We're almost done with this salad, and you can get started."
Maeve bounced a little on the chair, very excited at this new development, and Dacey smiled, remembering how much she had loved "cooking" with her gran at Maeve's age. When Isabelle set the salad in the refrigerator, she smiled at Dacey.
"The kitchen is yours, Dacey. But I might stick around and steal your secrets, if that's alright," she sat down at the kitchen table opposite Glenn.
Dacey laughed. "I usually don't have an audience when I cook. But sure, steal away."
"Who's stealing what?" Mark asked as he came in from the patio where he'd been getting the barbeque started.
"Dacey is making peach cobbler for dessert, and I'm going to steal the recipe," Isabelle smiled up at him.
"And I'm helping!" Maeve chimed in.
"Well that will be fun for you, sugar-pie," Mark smiled, kissing his daughter's cheek as he opened the refrigerator. He held a beer up and looked at Glenn, who nodded, so he took two beers and joined Glenn and Isabelle at the table.
Dacey smiled at Maeve, and the little girl grinned back at her. "Okay Maeve, now I'm going to need your help, because I don't know my way around your mommy's kitchen. Let's see. I need a dish to bake the cobbler in. A fairly big dish," she leaned in and mock-whispered to her, "because Uncle Glenn is going to eat a whole lot of cobbler, I think."
Mark and Isabelle stifled laughter, and Glenn grinned. Maeve laughed and pointed to one of the cabinets. "I think in there."
Dacey nodded and opened the door, finding a number of ovenware dishes, and choosing a large oval shaped one, setting it down on the counter. "Okay, now the first thing we need to do is grease the dish so the peaches won't stick to it." She opened the refrigerator and took out the butter, and then looked over at Isabelle. "Baking paper?"
Isabelle pointed to the pantry, and Dacey opened it, nodding at the dispenser for the wraps and tearing off a length of paper, wadding it up. She cut off a knob of butter and dropped it into the dish. "Now, Maeve, I want you to use this paper to rub that butter all over the dish. Go nice and steady, we need to make sure we don't miss a spot."
Maeve nodded eagerly, and Dacey guided her little hand to the butter, smooshing it down so she could begin smearing it. She smiled, watching the serious expression on Maeve's face as she worked, very carefully wiping the buttery paper over the surface of the dish. While Maeve worked, Dacey turned the oven on to heat, and walked over to the kitchen table to pick up the jars of peaches.
She set them on the bench and smiled at Maeve. "Let's see how you're doing there, Maeve."
The little girl looked up and smiled. "Almost finished!"
Dacey looked into the dish and smiled. It looked rather like her first attempt had, she thought. The butter was spread a little unevenly, but Maeve had managed to cover the whole base of the dish at least. "That's very good, Maeve. The sides are a bit tricky, so I'll do those, okay?"
Maeve handed her the wad of paper with a nod, watching carefully as Dacey evened the butter out a little and wiped it around the sides of the dish, making sure to cover it completely. "What happens next, Dacey?"
Dacey tossed the paper into the trash and smiled at Maeve. "Next, I need you to help me put the peaches in the dish. I'll empty the jars, because they might be a bit big for your hands, but then you get to spread them out nice and even."
She opened the jars of peaches, holding one up to Maeve. "Don't they smell good?"
Maeve sniffed and smiled. "Yes, they do!"
They grinned at each other, and Dacey emptied the jars into the dish, judging they would just be the right depth. She handed Maeve a spoon. "Now, very carefully, you spread the peaches out so they make a nice even layer. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Dacey," Maeve said, taking the spoon and carefully pushing the peaches into the dish. Dacey watched her, smiling. She was such a serious little girl, she thought, and such a joy.
Glenn sipped his beer, watching Dacey with Maeve. She was very patient with the little girl, and she seemed to know exactly how to talk to her.
Mark smiled at his wife. "She's pretty good with kids, isn't she? Maeve's really taken to her."
Isabelle nodded and looked over as Dacey spoke. "Isabelle, do you recycle your jars?"
"Put them in the dishwasher, Dacey. I'll return them to Asa for the next round of preserving he does."
Dacey nodded, bending to do so. Maeve watched and then spoke up. "I'm finished Dacey."
Looking at the dish, Dacey nodded. The peaches were more or less evenly spread out. "Very good Maeve. Well, we've got the peaches part done, now what's next?"
Maeve giggled. "The cobbler part!"
"Oh yes, that's right. So, first we need a mixing bowl." Maeve pointed at one of the lower cabinet, and Dacey fetched a large mixing bowl, setting it on the bench between them.
"Now, we need some things from the pantry. We need," Dacey opened the pantry and began setting things on the counter, "flour, and we need baking powder. A little sugar, and some cinnamon."
Maeve looked at the ingredients and then at Dacey. "How do you know what you need?"
"Well, I remember it, aingeal. It's called a recipe - that's the instructions for cooking something."
"What else do you need?"
"Hmmm, we need some butter, and some ice water."
"The butter is here already, and the ice water comes from the refrigerator," Maeve pointed.
"Well then, we're almost ready. Now, first, we need to measure out some flour,"Dacey smiled, looking into the drawers to find a measuring cup. "We'll need two cups of flour." She measured the flour into the bowl and then picked up the baking powder. "Did you know this is magic powder, Maeve?"
Maeve looked at her wide-eyed. "It is?"
"Aye, aingeal, that it is. You see, when we add this powder to flour and cook it, it helps the flour to rise up all light and fluffy."
Maeve nodded. "How much do we need?"
Dacey grinned. "Well now, we have to be careful. Because if we put too much in, the cobbler might just rise up too much, and that would make a dreadful mess in mommy's kitchen." Maeve giggled. "So we only need a small spoonful for each cup of flour. So how many do we need?"
"We need two!" said Maeve.
"Exactly right! Now, here's a fresh spoon, you stir those together for me carefully." Maeve took the spoon and stirred the flour mixture slowly. "And while you do that, we'll put some sugar and cinnamon in too." Dacey measured in the sugar and spice.
Maeve stirred the bowl a few more times and then stopped. "Now what do we do, Dacey?"
Dacey smiled. "Now we get to do my favourite part, cos it's all sticky and messy." Maeve's eyes lit up as Dacey used a knife to cut a stick of butter into small pieces. "First, we have to wash our hands so they are nice and clean."
She and Maeve washed their hands at the kitchen sink and Dacey handed Maeve a papertowel to dry her hands. Maeve's expression was expectant, watching Dacey as she dropped the little cubes of butter into the flour mixture.
"This is how we mix the butter into the flour, Maeve. They call this "rubbing"," Dacey said, demonstrating how she rubbed the butter and flour between her fingertips. "Come on, you can help me, just go slowly."
Maeve reached into the bowl, and Dacey guided her hands, as her grandmother had done for her. "That's it, only take a little bit, and rub your fingers and thumbs together." She watched as Maeve tried. "That's very good Maeve, you're getting the hang of it."
She worked the butter and flour, watching as Maeve copied her movements. They worked together, smiling at one another, and Dacey looked at the bowl. "See, Maeve, we've made it look like breadcrumbs, that's exactly what's supposed to happen."
Maeve examined the bowl with a serious expression and nodded. "Is it finished?"
"Not quite. Now we have to turn the breadcrumbs into cobbler dough. How do you think we do that?"
Maeve's forehead wrinkled and then she grinned. "We use the ice water!"
"Bingo!" Dacey smiled. She turned to the refrigerator and poured a small glass of ice water, handing it to Maeve. "Alright Maeve, pour a tiny bit of that into the bowl for me."
Maeve carefully tipped the glass over the bowl, allowing some of the water to pour into the mixture. Dacey quickly mixed it in using a blunt knife, much to Maeve's amazement. They worked together, Maeve adding drops of water as Dacey asked her to, neither of them paying attention to their audience. Finally, Dacey smiled.
"I think that's perfect, Maeve." She showed Maeve the dough in the bowl.
Maeve grinned at her. "What do we do now?"
"Now, we put the cobbler on the peaches." Dacey took two spoons from a drawer and used them to place evenly sized dumplings of dough over the peaches in the dish.
"You're not covering the peaches all the way!" protested Maeve.
"No, I'm not, Maeve. Can you remember what we put in with the flour?"
Maeve thought and then grinned. "We put in the magic powder!"
"That's right, we did. And the magic powder does what?"
"It makes the flour cook all fluffy," Maeve said.
"That's right. And if it does that, what's going to happen when we cook the cobbler like this?"
Maeve looked at the dish and then clapped her hands. "I know! Those little balls will get all big and fluffy and join together, so all the peaches will be covered!"
"Exactly right! You're very clever, Maeve." Dacey leaned to kiss the little girl's cheek. "Now, for the finishing touch." She handed Maeve a spoon and held out the sugar cannister. "Sprinkle a little sugar over the dough, Maeve. Not very much, because the peaches are already nice and sweet, but this will make a nice crunchy part on the dough when it cooks."
She watched as Maeve slowly sprinkled sugar, a bit unevenly, over the cobbler dough, and then took the spoon from her and put the sugar down.
"Is it ready to cook now?" Maeve asked.
"It certainly is. I'll put it in the oven, because you're a bit little to be using the oven," Dacey picked up the dish and turned, sliding it into the centre of the oven and closing the door. "Now, we have to do two more things, that are very important with cooking."
"What are they, Dacey?" Maeve asked.
"The first thing is, we have to cross our fingers and wish very hard for our cooking to be good," Dacey grinned, showing Maeve how to cross her fingers and watching as the little girl screwed her face up with wishing. "Very good! That was a nice strong wish, so I'm sure we'll have a lovely cobbler for dessert."
"What's the other thing, Dacey?"
"We have to clean up after ourselves - that's a very important part of cooking," Dacey smiled, and Maeve nodded. "Let's start with washing our hands again."
She washed Maeve's hands, and then they worked together to clear the ingredients back into the refrigerator and pantry, and put the dishes and utensils into the dishwasher. Finally, Dacey wiped down the benches and smiled at Maeve. "There. All cleaned up for mommy. Want to take a peek at the cobbler?"
Maeve nodded eagerly and Dacey lifted her up, stepping over to the wall oven. "Now, hands behind your back, Maeve, because the oven will be hot and I don't want you to burn yourself, We'll just peek through the door."
Looking in through the oven door, Maeve could see the dough rising and spreading as it cooked and she laughed. "Look Dacey, the magic powder is working!"
Dacey set Maeve down with a smile. "Aye, it is aingeal. I think we've done a good job. Thank you for helping me."
Maeve looked up at her with a grin. "Thank you for letting me help, Dacey!" She ran out to her mother, jumping up and down with excitement, and Isabelle lifted her daughter into her lap, smiling at Dacey, who came out to sit with them after setting the oven timer.
"Thank you Dacey," Isabelle smiled.
"It was my pleasure, Isabelle. I always loved helping my gran cook, even when I was Maeve's age." Dacey smiled at the little girl.
Mark smiled at his daughter and then turned to Dacey. "I didn't ask while you were busy cooking, but would you like a beer?"
"No thanks Mark, but I will grab a glass of water," Dacey rose from her chair, but Glenn stood and waved her back.
"Allow me, Dacey. Anyone else want something while I'm up?" he smiled, going to the refrigerator and pouring a glass of water for Dacey.
"Would you put the kettle on, please Glenn? I could use a cup of tea," Isabelle asked.
"Of course Isabelle," he said, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove, peeking into the wall oven as he did. "This is looking very good, Dacey. Not to mention how terrific it smells," he leaned down to kiss her cheek as he placed her glass in front of her.
"I helped, Uncle Glenn!" Maeve said, and he rubbed his nose to hers with a grin.
"So you did, Maeve. Thank you." He sat back down at the table, looking at Dacey. There had been something rather special about seeing her with Maeve.
Dacey sipped her ice water, stretching out in her chair. She smiled fondly at Maeve - as an only child, she'd missed out on the trials of younger siblings, so for her, Maeve was a bit of a surprise. She was such a forthright little girl, which was hardly surprising, given her parents. Of course, this was the first real experience she'd had with any of her wrestling colleagues in a family setting, which was also rather nice.
It was comforting to be in a home, rather than a hotel, and she felt far more relaxed than she had in weeks, it seemed. The sound of the front door bell came as a bit of a surprise as she listened to Maeve chatter away with her parents and Glenn, but Maeve looked up with an excited expression.
"Is it Uncle Paul and Aunt Joanie, daddy?"
Mark glanced over to the discreet screen on the security system and nodded to his daughter with a smile. "It certainly is, sugar-pie."
Maeve jumped down off Isabelle's lap and tugged on her mother's hand, grinning. "Come on Máthair, let's go and let them in!"
Isabelle smiled, running a hand over Maeve's bright curls. "Alright, Maeve. But remember, Owen, Maisie and Ricky stayed at home in Connecticut."
Maeve's expression fell for a moment, but she brightened again almost instantly. "That's okay - I can get all the horseyback rides from Uncle Paul this way!"
Mark laughed, and Isabelle allowed herself to be led away by Maeve, while Dacey straightened up in her chair, her eyes a little wide as she realised who the Calaways' dinner guests were. Glenn smiled, reaching out to take her hand and giving it a little squeeze. He shot a quick glance at Mark, who noticed Dacey's expression a little belatedly.
"I guess I should have mentioned that I'd invited Paul and Joanie to come over for dinner. It's pretty much a standing offer for us - whether it's them here in Texas, or us in Connecticut."
Dacey nodded, giving him a small smile. "Mark, you don't have to justify your dinner guests to me." She was saved from having to say anything else as the oven timer sounded, and she excused herself quietly, rising to her feet and going into the kitchen to look into the oven.
The sound of small running feet heralded Maeve's arrival in the kitchen, and she rushed over to where Dacey was standing, almost bouncing with excitement. "Is the cobbler ready, Dacey?"
The little girl's enthusiasm took Dacey's mind off her anxiety about Mark and Isabelle's guests, and she nodded at Maeve. "Aye, aingeal. Shall we take a look and be sure?"
Maeve nodded eagerly, and Dacey picked her up, smiling as Maeve carefully put her hands behind her back, remembering Dacey's earlier warning about the stove. Together, they peered through the oven door at the golden brown topping on the cobbler and Maeve exclaimed, "Oh it looks so nice, Dacey!" She sniffed and grinned. "And it smells good too!"
"I'll second that," came a male voice, and Dacey and Maeve looked around at Paul Levesque, who stood with his wife Joanie and Isabelle.
Dacey was saved from having to say anything by Maeve, who bounced a little in her arms as she grinned. "Dacey made peach cobbler and I helped! But Uncle Glenn is probably going to eat all of it, so maybe you won't get any, Uncle Paul."
Glenn burst out laughing, along with the other adults, and Dacey set Maeve down on the floor with a chuckle, touching a fingertip to Maeve's nose. "We'll have to make sure Uncle Glenn shares, I think, aingeal. Now, let's get this cobbler out." She looked around, spotting a kitchen stool, and pulled it up to the bench, picking Maeve up and sitting her on it. "You sit here, aingeal, while I take it out. I wouldn't want you getting burned."
She glanced around Isabelle's kitchen and spotted a thick wooden chopping board, placing it on the benchtop before donning oven mitts and turning off the oven, opening it carefully, always keeping an eye on Maeve to make sure she wasn't moving into harm's way. Sliding the large dish out of the oven, she placed it on the wooden board, pushing it back from the edge of the bench before turning to close up the oven and take off the oven mitts. With a grin, she held out her arms to Maeve, picking her up from the stool and bringing her closer to the dish from which steam was rising slowly.
"It's very hot, little one, so we need to let it cool down before we can eat it. But I think we did a very good job, aingeal - tapadh leat."
Maeve grinned, and with a little frown of concentration, repeated the words, pronouncing them almost exactly as Dacey had - tapah lat. Dacey nodded.
"Very good, Maeve - that means 'thank you'."
To Dacey's surprise, Maeve wrapped her arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Tapadh leat, Dacey, for letting me help you cook."
Dacey smiled. "Tá failte romhat, Maeve - that means 'you're welcome'."
She set Maeve down on the floor, and the little girl ran straight to Joanie, taking her hand and pulling her towards the kitchen. "This is Dacey, Aunt Joanie - she's teaching me Gaelic and we cooked together."
Joanie smiled at Dacey. "It seems you're a lady of many talents, Dacey."
Dacey's cheeks coloured, and she smiled. "Thank you."
Glenn had been watching Dacey closely, and he judged it might be time he gave her an escape route. "I'm just going to go out to the guesthouse and freshen up before dinner, folks. Dace?"
She shot him a grateful look, and smiled. "I'd like to change, myself. If you'll all excuse me?" She moved out from the kitchen and collected her denim jacket from the back of her chair before following Glenn out into the courtyard.
Once inside the guesthouse, Glenn turned to smile at Dacey. "I hope you didn't mind me imposing in there, but it looked like you were feeling a bit overwhelmed."
"Mind?" Dacey gave him a shaky smile. "I'd like to kiss you for it!"
"What's stopping you?" Glenn grinned.
She stepped closer to him, taking his face in her hands and gently bringing it down to kiss him. His arms went around her, hugging her to him. They stood together for a long moment, and Dacey gave a sigh of contentment before looking into his eyes. "Thank you Glenn."
"You're welcome, Dacey."
She stepped back from him, running a hand over her hair. "I probably owe Mark an apology - it's just that . . . "
Glenn looked at her with a curious expression. She gave a little shrug and smiled self-deprecatingly. "It's Joanie - have you any idea what it's like to meet someone who you've idolised? Someone you modelled yourself after, career-wise? Last night, before my match, she came to find me. My idol came to see me - she wanted to tell me that she thought I was a hell of a wrestler. I was stunned!"
He could only smile. 'Dacey, you are a hell of a wrestler. She was telling you the truth."
Dacey laughed. "Chyna told me this, Glenn - I swear, I could barely get two words out, I was so star-struck! Paul - well, I've known him a while, we're colleagues, but this is Chyna!"
Glenn laughed and hugged her. "Honey, I'm about to give you a little history lesson. Joanie and Paul are here for dinner less as wrestlers and far more as friends of the Calaways. Years ago, when Isabelle lived in Greenwich, she was their neighbour. And more - she was their surrogate mother for Maisie and Owen."
Dacey looked at him wide-eyed. "She was what?"
He nodded, drawing Dacey down to sit on the sofa with him. "Joanie couldn't get pregnant, even with IVF. And Isabelle was single, and she loved them both as friends. She offered to be host mother to their biological child, by IVF. She met Mark when she was pregnant with the twins, and he was just coming off his knee surgery."
Leaning in to Glenn's side, Dacey shook her head. "I had no idea!"
He pressed a kiss to her hair. "It's not exactly a secret, but it's also not something much discussed outside the wrestling family. I mean, most of us knew that Joanie and Paul had a host mother for the twins - I was there the day Joanie opened her gym and Isabelle went into labor. That was tough on Mark - she had to have an emergency cesaerean."
Dacey nodded, deep in thought. "That would have to be a pretty deep friendship then. And you know, that makes it a little easier. I've been so fixated on Joanie because she was Chyna - she's also a wife and mother, and a friend." She smiled up at him. "I may yet be able to do more than sit in stunned silence and act the star-struck fan tonight!"
Glenn laughed. "You'll do fine, trust me. Now, do you need any help getting changed, little girl?" He mock-leered at her, and as he hoped, she laughed.
"I think I can manage on my own, thank you for the offer," she smiled.
"Then can I come and watch?" he grinned.
She smacked his arm playfully, laughing again. "You're really asking for me to wear that 'I'm with stupid' t-shirt tonight, aren't you?"
"Hey, if I get to watch you put it on . . . "
Dacey leaned in to kiss him with a grin. "Behave yourself, and maybe you'll get lucky later."
He stared at her wide-eyed.
She rose to her feet, giving him a wicked little smile. "That's right - I might just give you a double helping of peach cobbler." She winked and headed down the hall to her bedroom, while he laughed and moved towards his own room, shaking his head.