“My goodness, how you two have grown. So beautiful,” she shook her head in admiration. Turning to Jessup, her husband of over twenty-five years, she said, “Ain’t that right Jessup?” Her voice was so faint that even I leaned in to her in order to hear her better. A warm and effortless smirk graced Brayden’s face. The glint in his eyes reminded me of the carefree disposition he had when we returned from summer camp and came here. Maim served us chicken cutlets with homemade marinara sauce over penne pasta. It was amazing. They even made the pasta themselves. Years ago, we had the pleasure of seeing Jessup and the cooks make pasta from scratch on our first visit. “Taste even better than before,” I murmured to myself. I was accustomed to pre-packaged food and ramen noodles. I gulped down my water, relishing the coolness that rushed down my throat. Brayden inclined his head to me.
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