The Den was a huge and recessed room with a large couch with a television on the wall. The pool table was a full-sized unit. I wondered how they got it into the house and into this room. The air hockey table was just as new looking and probably twice as heavy.
I admit I am terrible at pool. Anna went over the rules a little bit and we played one game before shifting over to air hockey.
“Pa can be a challenge with pool. But you try playing air hockey against mama. I’m lucky to get one goal past her.”
I nodded as Anna slapped the puck with her mallet and it ricocheted across the table to my side and I lightly slapped it back.
“Are you playin’ the long game?”
“Maybe,” I replied, not exactly knowing what she meant.
“Going to play it slow and steady before you fire away?”
A part of me wanted to suspect that was code talk for something, but it was best not to.
Anna fired the puck back at me and looked to the door leading out of the den. I slammed the puck back and it went went right by her.
“Too sneaky?” I asked.
“I like the strategy. Keep me on m’toes,” Anna replied as she grabbed puck and placed it on the table. “I have kind of an off the wall question to ask.”
“Okay.”
“What you said in the car, about, liking me?”
“I do.”
“Really?” She let go of the disk and lightly tapped it so it glided across the table. “That’s a relief.”
“A relief?” I asked as I tapped the puck back with a little more force.
“Yeah, otherwise, it would have been a waste to go easy on you.” She put a little spin on her return hit.
“Oh, well, I know something you don’t know. I am not left-handed,” I replied as I switched to my right hand.
“There’s something I ought to tell you. I am left-handed,” Anna stated with a Cheshire Cat grin and slammed the puck back at me. It went into the goal.
She then looked back to the door, then literally jumped in my direction and grabbed my hands. “Let me know if I’m being too forward, okay?”
I didn’t get to respond as she kissed me on the lips. I didn’t feel fireworks popping, rockets going off, or the feelings of wet clay on a potter’s wheel but I knew I didn’t want it to end.
“Too forward?”
“Not at all.”
“It is a little forward” Miss Joel stated from the door.
Anna dropped my hands and froze.
“Supper’s ready, unless you want to continue. The correct answer is to come to the table.”
“Yes ma’am.” Anna replied with her face as red as her hair.

We stepped up back into the kitchen and walked a few feet to the dining room. This room was huge with a table big enough to feed maybe twelve people. A chandelier, delved in crystals, floated above us and casted just the right tone of light. I stopped at the edge of the kitchen as I saw a man sitting at the head of the table. He was a red-haired man, kind of thin, but seemingly very young. Pounce de Leon should have gone to Alabama to look for the fountain of youth.
“You must be Bryce,” he said as he stood up, walked over to me, and held out his right hand. “Happy to me you. I’m Damien Joel.”
“Happy to meet you too, sir.” I replied as I shook his hand. He had a firm grip and his eyes appeared to be looking into my brain, most likely trying to pry the wandering thoughts I had in my mind. “I love your house.”
“It’s a great little homestead,” he said as he nodded to Anna to pull out a particular chair.
Wendy came skipping down the staircase and sat next to her mother. I sat between Anna and her father. I was pretty sure that it was his intention to learn everything about me.
“Thank you,” replied as my eyes finally noticed what was on the table. Chicken, shrimp gumbo, mashed potatoes and gravy and large glasses of iced tea. It was like they had a “Cracker Barrel” restaurant in the house instead of a simple kitchen.
“Please help yourself, Bryce.”
“Thank you,” I replied as Miss Joel passed a bowl of mashed potatoes and then everyone followed through passing dishes and bowls until everyone had something on their plate. The food looked like the photos in a cooking magazine. No burns, nothing withered, brown or under-cooked. Absolute perfection. Miss Joel must have been a five-star chef sometime in her life.
“How is everything,” Mr. Joel asked.
“Very delicious, thank you,” I replied as I looked around the room and noticed several paintings on the wall that appeared to be quite old and possibly expensive.
“I’m going to make something like this, daddy.”
“I’m sure you will, Anna.”
“I told Bryce about the beans.”
Mr. Joel choked a moment, coughed, and then laughed. “I guess you are a keeper, Bryce. You know our darkest secret.”
“I think they were still edible.”
“Even the dog refused to eat it,” Wendy chipped in.
“At least I can say I tried,” Anna replied as her father picked up his glass of tea.
“And tried you did, Anna. Now, if you has paid a little more attention to your mama—”
“Then it would have been the best ham and bean soup. Yes sir.”
“Sorry Bryce, we’re spilling all our dirty laundry at your feet.”
“It’s okay. I will not tell a soul.”
My Joel laughed at my comment and took another sip.

With each passing of the plates, it looked like there was always more food and when Miss Joel left the table for a moment, she returned with a large chocolate cream pie.
“Or would you prefer key lime?”
“Chocolate looks great to me. Thank you.” Miss Joel sliced quite a large piece and placed it on a small plate that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. I summed up that my thoughts were divided on stealing looks from Anna, glancing around the room, and acknowledging the family that I never noticed it was there. Like Anna said, her mama did make a great everything.