A long lane at night

2. EXTRA 2. CHOCOLATE

** Nate **

The Good Friday dinner was reaching its end and the crammed table felt fuller than usual, much with everyone starting to spread out lazily across the living room, relieving one button or another.

'Why does your husband have to cook so well, dude?' Chad asked as he plopped himself on the larger living room couch.

'I have no idea,' Jack said, spreading his legs wide to his side and holding on to dear life to its ear and top rail, trying to get as horizontal as possible without actually lying down across his seat.

'Mate, I think that even Alice's stuffed,' said Will, passing by his niece's cot on the way to the smaller couch where he liked to curl after a heavy meal. It's impressive how these two have a favourite spot in a house they don't even live in.

'What are you talking about?' Jack's voice came out a little bit more worried than usual. 'We only fed her a regular lunch.'

'Dunno, man,' Will answered, finally throwing himself on the couch like his brother had a few minutes ago. 'But her belly looks a bit swollen and she's sleeping like there's no tomorrow.'

And, as soon as he finished that sentence, he started to snore, following his niece and twin brother in the most pleasant of post-lunch slumbers.

'Don't worry, she'll be fine. Perhaps there was a little too much cheese on her purée,' I said, reaching behind my husband's neck and prompting him to stand up again.

'And whose fault is that?' Jack asked with a raise of a brow and a smile, letting me know he wasn't exactly mad.

'Entirely mine, but she loved it and I regret nothing.'

Jack grabbed me by my back and gave me a passionate kiss. With time, I learned to kiss him back instead of verbally saying that I also loved him. Sometimes I still did it, but I'm happy to say I have at long last learned to read the room and more importantly, his intentions.

By mid-afternoon, my own father was the first to leave. He had said earlier that today's lunch would be the only part of this year's Easter celebrations he'd manage to spend with us, because he and Sarah were taking up the long holiday to finally take Parker to see a showing of his favourite movie with a real-life orchestra. Uncle Brian seemed to be making a huge deal of drama about it.

'I just cannot believe you're going to deprive me, the real maestro in the room, of such an experience,' he'd said on multiple occasions. My father explained it was supposed to be a family thing only, but Uncle Brian was only halfway convinced, for he had managed to contact the studio and, later this year, they would all embark on this tour where they'd marathon the entire Castaway saga, all six films with a live orchestra, the whole thing conducted by him.

'I should make you buy your own tickets,' he said one night to my dad, but the winkle on his face gave him away.

'Hey, Dad,' I called as I came from the kitchen. 'Are you sure you're leaving without dessert?'

'Nah,' he said, while tapping his belly three or four times, 'you know I'm not much of a fan of choc–'

As I had hoped and suspected, my father went speechless at the sight of the extra large tray of freshly-made Turkish Delight I was carrying, the sugar shining like a million diamonds, spread over each individually cut piece.

'Dude, how did you have time for all of that?' Chad's voice came closer to me, as he left the couch and was already tentatively reaching for a piece off the tray.

'Taylor took care of a nasty client for me,' I answered with a smile, laying the tray down in the centre of the table. 'Dig in, everyone!'

They didn't need telling twice and it wasn't long before Jack, Chad, and Will found the courage to dip pieces of Turkish Delight in the milk and white chocolate fountains we had as working centerpieces. The commotion was even enough to wake Alice up, but, as much as she hates being woken up, the sugar and chocolate smell in the air was enough to drive any crankiness away and soon she was on her tiptoes, hoping to also be offered some extremely sweet treats.