Cara’s POV
We all sat around the table put back on the patio, after helping Emma bring out all the food. It turned out Dean had been in the back with their younger child, Belle, arranging the chairs and table.
“Belle, could you pass the mashed potatoes, sweetheart?” Emma asked, her voice warm and motherly.
Belle, a quiet girl with a sweet smile, nodded and handed the bowl of mashed potatoes down the table. It was one of those heavy ceramic bowls that looked like it had been passed through generations. I took it next, scooping some onto my plate before passing it along to Jason.
The table was full from roasted chicken, to mashed potatoes, green beans, freshly baked bread, and what smelled like Emma’s homemade gravy. The air was filled with the aroma of a comforting, home-cooked meal, a
