Texas Rose. Marie Ferrarella

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      “Throwing a couple of steaks in the frying pan and tossing in a salad is dinner,” Rose informed her. “This is a conspiracy.”

      Beth laughed and patted Rose’s cheek. “Nonsense, Rose, there’s no conspiracy.” She leaned into her niece, lowering her voice. “You know, it’s a known fact that some women in your condition start becoming paranoid.”

      Rose stiffened and turned around, looking toward the living room to make sure that Matt wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity.

      “Aunt Beth—” she said between clenched teeth. This was supposed to remain a family secret and here Beth was, talking about it in the middle of a circus of strangers.

      Beth lowered her voice even more. “I’m whispering, honey. Even you can’t hear me.” She came to attention as another man came out on the terrace with a small, narrow box in his hands. “Oh, put that right there. I’ll take care of it.”