Angelina was not the sort of girl to be upset about ice in her wine glass. She did crack a smile at it, though as she sat down and helped herself to the food she'd prepared. She was feeling rather proud of herself, really. She liked to think she'd made quite a spread.
"I can't disagree," she said, lips quirking up. "I have all these relatives running around from the future, calling me Auntie Angie." Seriously. It was weird; not as weird as Mom had been, though. She was surprised that Fred had brought Roxanne up, since Angelina still wasn't entirely sure how comfortable he was with the whole 'I'm dating your mom who marries my brother' issue. He seemed at ease as he talked about her, though, and Angelina let herself relax.
"I want you to meet her, too," she admitted, smiling sheepishly. "She's... pretty brilliant, Fred." She felt something akin to pride bubbling up again, maternal instincts, she supposed. "It's weird, seeing bits of me in her- in the way she looks and the way she acts." And bits of George, too, but Angelina didn't mention that.