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3rd POV
Veronica wiped her eyes, a soft smile on her face. "I'm sorry." she said quietly, and Georgie handed her a tissue.
Mary looked at her with gentle, motherly eyes, while Connie patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't be. You're a good girl."
"No… I'm just… happy." Veronica admitted, her smile growing.
Connie could only smile back. She remembered Veronica mentioning at a previous informal dinner that she had rarely, if ever, experienced sitting down for a meal with her family.
"Alright then, we're happy to have you with us tonight, Veronica." Mary said, bringing the conversation to a close before turning to the rest of the table. "So, is everyone excited for the church picnic tomorrow?"
Sheldon and Georgie both sighed deeply, their expressions heavy with disinterest.
"No."
"Not really."
Missy had been about to complain too, but then a thought struck her. "Can Veronica come with us?"
She figured if Veronica was there, the picnic might not be as boring. Maybe they could gossip and talk about girl stuff instead of sitting through long sermons and so-called 'fun' church activities.
Mary looked at Missy before turning her gaze to Veronica, who had frozen in place upon hearing her name.
"Wh… what?" Veronica stammered, looking at Missy, who was grinning sweetly.
"Would you like to come?" Mary asked, clearly delighted at the possibility. As long as there was a 'lost lamb' willing to be guided toward the righteous path, she would never say no.
Veronica hesitated, then glanced at Georgie.
"Well, if you don't want to go, you can just say so." Georgie said with reassuring smile that it's fine to reject their invitation.
Veronica smiled and nodded at Mary. "Yes, I'd love to!" she answered, leaving Georgie slightly bewildered. He had not expected her to accept the invitation.
Mary beamed. "See? That's the spirit!" She then turned to look at Sheldon and Georgie, who both pointedly avoided her gaze.
"Hehe, don't worry. I'll bring a big piece of brisket," Memaw chimed in.
That seemed like a harmless enough comment—except for the fact that she said it while staring directly at George, clearly taunting him.
George knew what she was doing. And yes, he was annoyed. But Connie was his mother-in-law and his kids' grandmother.
"That's it..." He wiped his mouth and pointed at Connie, ready to argue.
But before he could start, Georgie—sensing the incoming battle—held up a single finger in a 'time-out' gesture toward him.
George, who had been fully prepared to go another round with Connie, redirected his frustration toward his son instead.
"What?!" he snapped, turning to Georgie.
Georgie, still chewing on his brisket, simply raised his left hand in silent patience.
After swallowing his bite, he finally spoke. "Alright… we're making brisket tomorrow." he declared, pointing at the brisket still on the table.
Then, turning to Mary, he added, "Sorry, Mom. I can't go to the picnic—I need to save this family."
Mary and George both blinked.
"No, you are going to the picnic—" Mary started, only for George to lift his hand, signaling her to wait.
"Why?" George asked, narrowing his eyes. "Didn't I tell you this recipe is different from all the others?"
His tone was hopeful—hopeful that Georgie had figured out the recipe or at least understood what made it so special.
"You bet." Connie smirked, taking another sip of her beer.
"I taste cumin and brown sugar in this brisket... and beer?" Georgie said suddenly.
Connie choked on her drink. "What?!" she coughed, eyes wide in shock.
George, meanwhile, beamed. "You know the recipe?!" he asked excitedly.
But before Georgie could answer, Mary's sharp gaze landed on her son.
"You recognize the taste of beer?" she asked sternly.
Veronica and Missy chuckled to themselves. Of course, Veronica knew what beer tasted like too, but she wisely kept quiet.
"No, I don't," Georgie shrugged, playing it cool. "But I can taste sweetness, corn, bread, and hops. I've seen the ingredients in Dad's beer before, and based on what I'm tasting, it matches the ingredients of Lone Star beer."
It was complete bullshit.
He had tasted beer before.
Because, well… he was reincarnated person.
"Well, I don't know Memaw's full recipe. Maybe Sheldon does." Georgie said, shifting attention away from himself.
Sheldon, hearing his name, looked up in confusion. "I do?"
Georgie shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Memaw told you once, or maybe someone else mentioned it to you. There's no way a person can keep a secret for their entire life without ever slipping up."
Sheldon smirked. "Because I have eidetic memory?"
"Yes," Georgie nodded. "Maybe you just need a trigger to recall it."
"Hang on a sec!" Connie suddenly interjected, her full attention now on Georgie.
She didn't care if Sheldon might know the recipe because she didn't ever tell anyone about her recipe.
She cared that Georgie had figured out the ingredients just by tasting it.
"Are you telling me… you guessed the recipe just by eating it? And you're only bringing it up now?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I don't know your full recipe," Georgie said, pointing at his plate. "But I recognized a few of the flavors."
"…Ohh, alright then," Connie smirked again, her confidence returning. She turned to George, giving him a challenging look. "You can try… but nothing will ever beat my smoked brisket." she declared.
George gritted his teeth before turning back to Georgie.
"Alright. Tomorrow, we're going shopping," he said firmly. Then, pointing at Connie, he added, "I'm gonna make the best smoked brisket—without your recipe!"
Georgie just gave a thumbs-up and continued eating.
Memaw, still smirking, turned to him next.
"No more brisket for you!" she announced.
"Oh, come on!!" Georgie groaned.