Page 50 of Something Borrowed

Vic opened her mouth to protest. Then shut it again. What was she going to say? He doesn’t look like a monkey, Mom. He’s handsome. And he seems genuinely kind. Audra would probably just arch one of her thin brows and say, “Monkeys can be handsome and kind, Victoria.” Argh.

Instead of a futile response, she filled a blue-patterned bowl she knew Audra liked half full and put it on a tray. Then she added a side plate of saltines, one of the warmed rolls, and a wedge of butter.

“That snobby little shop is making you all fancy-shmancy,” Audra grumbled, but Vic thought she liked the presentation, and when, a minute later, Audra asked, “Are there any more strawberries?” Vic knew she was right.

She retrieved the remainder of the berries they’d had after dinner last night, already washed and cut, and put them in a tiny crystal dessert bowl.

Audra sniffed. “No one uses crystal anymore.”

“That’s okay. We can.”

Vic had purchased some mismatched cloth napkins in a variety of colors and prints from the shop, unable to resist the patterns or the ridiculously low price Madeline had set them at. She finished Audra’s tray with a pale-yellow napkin with a tiny blue bird in one corner and added a knife, soup spoon, and dessert spoon.

Something that might’ve almost been a smile ghosted across Audra’s face. It flitted away the second Vic started toward the dining room table with the tray.

“I said I want to eat in my living room!”

“Right, okay, okay. I forgot.”

“You’d forget your own head if it wasn’t nailed on.”

Vic sighed and obediently marched toward the back of the house, Audra trailing behind her, breathing raggedly.

It was funny that Cal wasn’t there yet. She’d thought he was planning to be there right at noon, and it was twenty after. She’d been planning to wait to eat until later, but the act of getting lunch ready for Audra had triggered her own appetite. She was starving. The doorbell rang just as Vic decided she was going to have a bowl of the still-warm soup too. She left her freshly filled dish on the table.

She opened the door wide, revealing Cal beneath a halo of bright white sun against the brilliant blue winter sky.

“Hi, come on in,” Vic said a little breathlessly. Whatever Cal Anderson was, it wasn’t a wrench monkey.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, stepping into the porch and setting down his big toolbox. “There was a fender bender in front of me—”

“Oh no! No one was hurt, I hope.”

Cal gave a quick shake of his head and a reassuring smile. “Nope, just a hassle for each driver, no injuries—and traffic got backed up. I couldn’t pull a U-turn either. Too many cops.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Our place needs some work, but not so desperately that you need to risk a ticket.”

Cold radiated from Cal as he pulled off his boots. She took his coat and shivered.

“Yeah,” he said, noticing. “Temperature’s really dropping. It’s the price we pay to see blue sky.”

“It’s crazy,” Vic said, pulling her wrap cardigan a little tighter. “I was at work this morning and it was overcast. Nothing like this.”

“At least the cold will keep the snow away,” Cal said philosophically and followed her into the kitchen. “Man, it smells good in here.”

“Thanks—you caught me with about the only thing I can cook from scratch. Good soup.”

“Well, a good soup is a good thing.”

“Do you want a bowl?”

Cal hesitated.

“I was just about to have one—and I have nice buns too.” She groaned inwardly. Had she really just said that? Really?

To Cal’s credit, although his eyes crinkled, he merely said mildly, “How can I say no to that offer?”

The primary problem with you, Victoria, is that you’re a shameless flirt. It’s pathetic.