When William Tyler Kitchings, Tom and Katie’s youngest, finally came home and told his parents he’d found the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, Katie began to weep. She didn’t mean to, of course; in fact she had long prided herself on being a model of poise and restraint, qualities that had most certainly contributed to her serving as the junior auxiliary’s youngest president on record. But Katie simply couldn’t help it. She had worried so about William that she burst into tears when he gave them the news. She needn’t have been so concerned, of course, seeing that the young people seemed to be marrying later and later these days. But she and Tom had been blessed by such a fulfilling and delightful union that she wanted all of her children to experience that same joy.

At this stage, Katie wasn’t even sure she cared who the girl’s people were, or if she’d been a Tri Delt like herself, although that would be ideal of course. That sort of thing used to matter to Katie, back when William was in his twenties. By the time her son turned thirty-two, though, Katie just hoped he would find a wife in time for them to give her some grandchildren. Was that too much to ask? Three children of her own and not one of them has seen fit to bless her with babies.

MacKenzie was too busy trying to save the world, going on one humanitarian aid trip after another, living in places Katie had never heard of, despite having studied old copies of National Geographic at the Luckettville Library once MacKenzie first joined the Peace Corps. Did you know that Africa has fifty-four countries? Neither did Katie until MacKenzie moved to one of them last year. Don’t get her wrong; Katie is proud of MacKenzie, delighted she and Tom have produced a young woman who is so dedicated to making the world a better place. Sometimes, though, Katie just wishes her daughter could find a cause closer to home. Goodness knows there is plenty of work to be done here in America. Maybe even right here in Luckettville, now that Katie stops to think about it. Tomorrow she’ll call Ida, who is always working on one do-gooder project or another. If anybody can help Katie lure MacKenzie back to the States, it would be Ida.

Haines, the middle child, named for Katie’s side of the family, married young, leading Katie to believe she’d be a grandmother before she turned fifty. Au contraire. Haines and Lydia had promptly started climbing their respective corporate ladders and had not looked down in ten years, not that Katie could see, anyway. They have recently gotten a dog, so Katie hopes that’s a sign that they’re becoming a little less self-centered. And there is still time for them, of course. Eliza Pennebaker didn’t have a child until she was thirty-five, and that kid turned out fine for the most part. It’s not the way Katie’s generation did it, but who is she to say that the old ways are the best?

As for Tom, he’s just glad all three kids made it through college without a lot of debt or having spent time in jail. His markers for what qualifies as successful parenting are somewhat lower than Katie’s.

“Leave the kids alone,” says Tom to Katie when she gets all flustered about the fate of the Kitchings lineage. “They’ll either have children or they won’t, in their own good time.”

It isn’t just grandkids that Katie wants; it’s a little respect for the past. None of the kids seems to care about the family stories, or the old photographs, or even the recipes handed down to Katie from her own grandmother. Who will carry on the traditions? These things matter to Katie, as they have to generations of Southerners before her. And she wants to do what she can to make sure they continue.

Now that William is bringing his fiancée, Hannah, home to meet them, Katie has been beside herself for weeks with excitement. She’s re-covered the seats of the dining room chairs, sent the curtains out to be dry-cleaned, and bought new hand towels for the guest bathroom.

Katie wants to impress Hannah with the food, but not intimidate her. She’s waited long enough for this that she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her relationship with her future daughter-in-law. So Katie decides she’ll make some of the family favorites when the kids come to dinner, like rolled chicken breast with tomato sauce, accordion-cut roasted potatoes, strawberry peanut brittle salad, and coconut cream cheesecake. She’ll do what she can to throw in a few family stories, maybe even pass around an old photo or two of William. The one with him in the barber chair for his first haircut, or the one where he’s got his cheeks stuffed with candy after trick-or-treating. She doesn’t even care if it embarrasses William. Isn’t that what families are for?

Katie will invite Hannah’s parents, too, although as soon as she has that thought she realizes she hasn’t a clue where the girl’s family lives. She’d been so excited when William made his announcement that she forgot to ask. Egads, thinks Katie in a fit of pique, what if her future daughter-in-law is from Up North?

Katie regains her composure when she remembers that she’s never seen William happier than the night he broke the news to her and Tom. It does a mother good to see her offspring so content, so peaceful. It’s all she wants, really. That, and a few grandchildren.