Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“I just want to check in real quick,” she said as she brought the phone to her ear. “Hey! I’m just—I know. Yes, I know. I just wanted—okay. Yes. Alright. Oh, stop.”
“Told you to stop fussing and get back to the party, didn’t she?”
“She did,” Willa confirmed. “My mom and dad are there with her too. And one of my aunts. Adelaide is getting better care than I can give her.”
“No one can take care of her better than you. But they can do a good enough job that you don’t need to worry.”
“You’re right,” she said, handing me back the phone, and I felt a sinking sensation of disappointment that she didn’t put it back herself.
She looked different when she talked about Adelaide. Softer, somehow. The tension that had been riding her shoulders since we’d walked through the doors eased a little, and the guarded expression she’d worn around her coworkers disappeared completely.
I’d seen Willa tired. I’d seen her frustrated. I’d seen her covered in baby spit and wearing pajamas at three in the afternoon.
But I’d never seen this version of her.
The woman who could be surrounded by hundreds of people and still have her entire attention narrowed down to one tiny baby.
I understood that kind of devotion.
I’d felt something similar toward my siblings, to my nieces and nephews, and to Tuna for years.
But what I saw in her was bigger.
And, if I were being honest, watching her love her daughter made me like her even more.
Which was a dangerous place to be.
“Want to head back in?”
“Do we have to?” she asked, shooting me a pout that made me want to sweep her up and carry her out of the place.
“Absolutely not. Well, until the food is served. Then I’m leaving you here and sampling what kind of fare is served at this sort of thing.”
“That’s fair. I’d abandon you for a great steak and potato right now, too. It’s been a lot of random junk and takeaway lately.”
“Did you like to cook before Adelaide?”
“Not really, no. I mean… I can manage. But it’s not a passion of mine. I’m a fantastic orderer, though.”
“Explains your collection of menus.”
“And that is pared down. I have most of them digital now. Do you cook?”
“I do. When I have the time. Which isn’t often."
“I guess I’m to blame for that, huh?”
“I’ve been busy since before your bathroom decided to throw a fit. There’s always work in the trades. Something is always breaking.”
“Don’t I know it. What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“Impossible to choose. My grandfather taught me the love of grilling and smoking. But I also learned to love all the interesting ways you can prepare a potato or pasta dish from my grandmother.”
“So, what I’m hearing is you could smoke some brisket and serve it with a side of roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus, and maybe a little noodle soup appetizer.”
“I could do that. Actually, you might have just given me an idea for a meal this week,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed at that. “You can’t steal my meal idea. That’s just mean.”
“Is it mean if you can have some too?”
“That’s a lot less mean. I mean, I would never turn down a plate, but don’t cook for me.”
I knew as the words were coming out of my mouth that they were wrong, that I needed to keep a professional disconnect between myself and a client, but that didn’t stop them from escaping my lips. “You could come over for a plate.”
The second I said it, I realized what I’d done.
I’d invited my client to my house.
For dinner. With her baby.
It sounded suspiciously like a date when I put it that way. But there was no way to snatch the invitation back.
So I found myself picturing Willa standing at my kitchen island while I pulled brisket from the smoker. Adelaide sleeping nearby. Tuna inevitably hovering at her feet in case someone dropped something he could steal.
The picture came together so easily that it was unsettling.
It looked like home.
I ignored that thought and focused on her smile instead. That felt safer.
“To your house?” she asked, eyes going bright.
“It’s where my smoker and grill live.”
Her lips curved up at that. “I might be persuaded into that. If I can bring dessert.”
“That works out. I have no skill with baked goods.”
“Me either. But the lady at the local bakery does,” she said, smile bright.
“Tuna will love the company. He will show you and Adelaide every single one of his toys.”
“You don’t mind if I bring her?”
“Of course you’re going to bring her. You two are a package deal. And while she can’t personally appreciate the brisket, there is some stained glass that casts rainbow prisms that she might find entertaining.”
“Well, then, you set a date and time and we’ll be there.”
“Be where?” a voice asked, making Willa’s eyes roll back for the briefest of seconds before she stuck one of those plastic smiles on her face just a second before one of the Chrises appeared.