Everyone immediately began talking again, laughing, gossiping, lecturing. She looked at Matt in confusion, her brow furrowed.
He laughed and whispered, “Everyone wants to know if you like our stuff. Our Basque stuff. She overfilled your plate, don’t hurt yourself. Be glad she’s not spooning it into your mouth.”
“Is this like an initiation?”
“Yeah, something like that. Don’t worry now. You gave the approved response.”
She wanted to ask if Natalie almost fainted from the beauty of the food, but of course she couldn’t. Maybe during one of those late-night phone chats she’d brave it. Mick would have loved it; he’d have written a song about it because everything was all about him. He would have played his guitar and sung for them.
She ate a respectable amount, joined the conversation to talk about the flower shop and Grace, spoke admiringly of the new chicks and lambs, even commented on the amazing June weather. She poked at a rich desert, feeling stuffed. When dinner was done she insisted on helping in the kitchen where there was no dishwasher and many difficult roasters and pots to scrape. They shooed her away but she wouldn’t go. First of all, she liked them and second, it was bad manners to ignore the cleanup.
Eventually, before the meat and sauces were blasted out of the huge pans, Matt rescued her. He held her denim jacket and said, “Come on, everyone, Ginger has a long drive ahead and needs to be on the road.”
They all chimed in. Of course! Please go before you miss the light! Thank you for everything! You are too wonderful to help!
She hugged each one, thanking them for making her so welcome, for sharing their amazing Sunday dinner. Matt walked her outside where she paused beside her car and took a deep breath of the clean air. Then she turned her startled eyes to Matt. “Oh, Matt! I wanted to see where you were going to build your house! How did I forget that?”
“Next time,” he said with a smile. “We were too busy for that today.”
“Next time? Your family will think I’m a freeloader!”
“My family?” he asked, laughing. “You’re lucky they didn’t hold you down and stuff you! You complimented them very nicely without even knowing it. My mother will be ecstatic.”
“Thank her again for me, will you please?”
“Of course. I’m glad you had a good time. Will you do something for me?”
“What’s that?” she asked, wondering if she should send Corinne a thank-you note.
“Will you call me when you’re home? You don’t have to call the second you arrive, but tonight? Maybe we can do a postmortem on your visit to the crazy Lacoumette farm.”
“It was far from crazy,” she said. “I’m so glad I saw you last night. So glad I came today.”
He had a hand on her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. “It was a nice day.”
“Perfect,” she agreed.
“Will you kiss me goodbye?” he asked. “It won’t obligate you to anything.”
She put a hand against his cheek. “I don’t have anything.”
“Not yet, maybe. But we’re pretty lucky, you and me. Our time together has been good. For both of us, I think.”
She pressed her lips against his. Briefly. Softly. “Okay,” she said. “Forty-eight.”
“I’m flattered. Drive carefully. Slowly. Call later.”
“I will.”
* * *
Inside the house, several people were crowded at one small window, carefully peering through the sheers, not moving the curtains. Corinne and Paco, Ginny and Ellie, Lori and George. A couple of kids. They watched the goodbye at the car.
“They look like dawn and dusk,” Corinne said.
“The princess and the dark knight,” Ginny said.
“Matt and a second chance,” Ellie said. “She’s so lovely in her heart, isn’t she?”
“Do you think he knows he’s in love with her?” Lori asked.
“He’s a blockhead. He won’t know for months,” Paco said.
“Paco!” three people admonished at once.
“He’s stubborn! You think I don’t know my son?”
They saw the kiss, saw him smooth her hair, watched him turn from the car and walk toward the house. They all scrambled away from the window. Even Paco moved at warp speed to his chair, looking all innocent.
When Matt walked in the house, everyone was occupied. No one looked at him.
“Uncle Matt, do you know you’re in love with her?” Ellie’s nine-year-old daughter asked him.
“What?” Matt said.
“Paco said you won’t know for months because you’re a—”
There was a sudden plague in the room, a burst of heavy coughing. Ellie whisked her daughter away.
* * *
By the time Ginger made the freeway, there were tears on her cheeks. The Lacoumettes were so wonderful, all of them. Matt was such a lovely, strong man and what she felt for him was growing in her heart. She wondered what it might have been like to begin her romantic life with someone like him. If her baby was destined to die, how would her life have been different if she’d had a loving husband to hold her through the pain and tears?
She might be falling in love with him a little. She was very afraid to love again. She was afraid she wasn’t very good at it. And when she screwed it up and made mistakes, the next pain would be even worse.
Eight
On Monday morning, Ginger made it to the shop early. Of course Grace was already there. Who knew how early she had arrived? She was standing in the back room wearing a wedding dress. A sheet was spread out on the floor beneath her to keep the hem of the dress and its train clean. Iris and her mother-in-law, Gwen, were looking at the dress.
“Good morning,” Ginger said uncertainly.
“It’s going to be madness this week,” Grace said. “Utter madness.”
“Um, beautiful dress,” Ginger said.
“Not quite yet, it’s not. It’s my mother’s dress. It’s not really to my taste and it’s certainly not right for a wedding on the beach, but it would make her happy if I wear it. She has no problem with me altering it, but...”
“I don’t know that I can,” Gwen said. “It’s a little complicated.”
“What do you want to do to it?” Ginger asked.
He laughed and whispered, “Everyone wants to know if you like our stuff. Our Basque stuff. She overfilled your plate, don’t hurt yourself. Be glad she’s not spooning it into your mouth.”
“Is this like an initiation?”
“Yeah, something like that. Don’t worry now. You gave the approved response.”
She wanted to ask if Natalie almost fainted from the beauty of the food, but of course she couldn’t. Maybe during one of those late-night phone chats she’d brave it. Mick would have loved it; he’d have written a song about it because everything was all about him. He would have played his guitar and sung for them.
She ate a respectable amount, joined the conversation to talk about the flower shop and Grace, spoke admiringly of the new chicks and lambs, even commented on the amazing June weather. She poked at a rich desert, feeling stuffed. When dinner was done she insisted on helping in the kitchen where there was no dishwasher and many difficult roasters and pots to scrape. They shooed her away but she wouldn’t go. First of all, she liked them and second, it was bad manners to ignore the cleanup.
Eventually, before the meat and sauces were blasted out of the huge pans, Matt rescued her. He held her denim jacket and said, “Come on, everyone, Ginger has a long drive ahead and needs to be on the road.”
They all chimed in. Of course! Please go before you miss the light! Thank you for everything! You are too wonderful to help!
She hugged each one, thanking them for making her so welcome, for sharing their amazing Sunday dinner. Matt walked her outside where she paused beside her car and took a deep breath of the clean air. Then she turned her startled eyes to Matt. “Oh, Matt! I wanted to see where you were going to build your house! How did I forget that?”
“Next time,” he said with a smile. “We were too busy for that today.”
“Next time? Your family will think I’m a freeloader!”
“My family?” he asked, laughing. “You’re lucky they didn’t hold you down and stuff you! You complimented them very nicely without even knowing it. My mother will be ecstatic.”
“Thank her again for me, will you please?”
“Of course. I’m glad you had a good time. Will you do something for me?”
“What’s that?” she asked, wondering if she should send Corinne a thank-you note.
“Will you call me when you’re home? You don’t have to call the second you arrive, but tonight? Maybe we can do a postmortem on your visit to the crazy Lacoumette farm.”
“It was far from crazy,” she said. “I’m so glad I saw you last night. So glad I came today.”
He had a hand on her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. “It was a nice day.”
“Perfect,” she agreed.
“Will you kiss me goodbye?” he asked. “It won’t obligate you to anything.”
She put a hand against his cheek. “I don’t have anything.”
“Not yet, maybe. But we’re pretty lucky, you and me. Our time together has been good. For both of us, I think.”
She pressed her lips against his. Briefly. Softly. “Okay,” she said. “Forty-eight.”
“I’m flattered. Drive carefully. Slowly. Call later.”
“I will.”
* * *
Inside the house, several people were crowded at one small window, carefully peering through the sheers, not moving the curtains. Corinne and Paco, Ginny and Ellie, Lori and George. A couple of kids. They watched the goodbye at the car.
“They look like dawn and dusk,” Corinne said.
“The princess and the dark knight,” Ginny said.
“Matt and a second chance,” Ellie said. “She’s so lovely in her heart, isn’t she?”
“Do you think he knows he’s in love with her?” Lori asked.
“He’s a blockhead. He won’t know for months,” Paco said.
“Paco!” three people admonished at once.
“He’s stubborn! You think I don’t know my son?”
They saw the kiss, saw him smooth her hair, watched him turn from the car and walk toward the house. They all scrambled away from the window. Even Paco moved at warp speed to his chair, looking all innocent.
When Matt walked in the house, everyone was occupied. No one looked at him.
“Uncle Matt, do you know you’re in love with her?” Ellie’s nine-year-old daughter asked him.
“What?” Matt said.
“Paco said you won’t know for months because you’re a—”
There was a sudden plague in the room, a burst of heavy coughing. Ellie whisked her daughter away.
* * *
By the time Ginger made the freeway, there were tears on her cheeks. The Lacoumettes were so wonderful, all of them. Matt was such a lovely, strong man and what she felt for him was growing in her heart. She wondered what it might have been like to begin her romantic life with someone like him. If her baby was destined to die, how would her life have been different if she’d had a loving husband to hold her through the pain and tears?
She might be falling in love with him a little. She was very afraid to love again. She was afraid she wasn’t very good at it. And when she screwed it up and made mistakes, the next pain would be even worse.
Eight
On Monday morning, Ginger made it to the shop early. Of course Grace was already there. Who knew how early she had arrived? She was standing in the back room wearing a wedding dress. A sheet was spread out on the floor beneath her to keep the hem of the dress and its train clean. Iris and her mother-in-law, Gwen, were looking at the dress.
“Good morning,” Ginger said uncertainly.
“It’s going to be madness this week,” Grace said. “Utter madness.”
“Um, beautiful dress,” Ginger said.
“Not quite yet, it’s not. It’s my mother’s dress. It’s not really to my taste and it’s certainly not right for a wedding on the beach, but it would make her happy if I wear it. She has no problem with me altering it, but...”
“I don’t know that I can,” Gwen said. “It’s a little complicated.”
“What do you want to do to it?” Ginger asked.
