Bax smiled a little sheepishly. Mrs. Parker had clearly overthought this and it was making him a little self conscious. "I did neglect to tell her that the children weren't joining us," For a reason lest she start getting any more ideas about them. "Perhaps that's why." It was as good of a reason as any. He'd send the deserts home with her for them, if they even got there.

Taking the lemonade from Odira, Baxter popped the little cork in the lid carefully and poured two glasses (Mrs. Parker had thought of everything) atop the crate serving as their table. The boat slid along the water's surface so smoothly he kept forgetting where they were. "I fear if I take any home, she'll give me a scolding," She was old enough to be his mother, but he rather felt, approaching forty as he was, he shouldn't let her do that him, but he had no choice; she could be downright terrifying when she wanted to be.

"I am partial to the meat pies myself, but where would you like to start?" They could easily eat two separate things and still hardly put a dent in the contents, but he would ultimately leave the choice up to her. "How are the children?" Merlin he was terrible at this kind of thing. This kind of superficial conversation was something he should be good at, and he supposed he was, at work, where it was most common, but Baxter rather thought he should be long past this where Odira was concerned. They'd been through the ringer in certain situations, yet he wasn't ever quite sure what to talk about.