Page 76 of Keeping Secrets

Keely looked over the apples, unfamiliar with these local varieties. “Which ones are best for pie, do you know?”

“Oh, any of them will do,” said Frances. But she looked each bin over carefully before finally pointing to a box full of red and yellow speckled apples the size of her fist. “But I would say these are the best ones. They’re good and tart, with a strong flavor that bakes up nicely. Gather up enough for a pie, would you?”

“Yes ma’am.” Keely collected a bag full of apples, feeling completely in her element and fully content for the first time since Frances’s party. Had that only been a couple of days ago? Goodness. She put the intervening events out of her mind – well, all but Sunday’s magnanimous job offer – and turned to look at Frances. “What next?”

“That chowder of yours was phenomenal. I could eat it every night. Would you make it again?”

“Of course.”

“Gather up whatever you’ll need for that, then. I’ll just have a look at these flowers.”

Keely went across to a vegetable stand to stock up on onions, potatoes, and carrots. She chose a few other likely-looking vegetables as well, then hunted Frances down to seek her approval.

“I have the veggies I’ll need for soup. I can get the other ingredients at the market in town.”

“That’s breakfasts and dinners covered,” Frances said happily.

“You really want to eat the same thing every day?”

“If it’s as good as that chowder I do! You can make, oh, say four days’ worth. Then you can drive me down to the big farmers market in Santa Cruz and we’ll shop all over again, try something new.”

“Sounds good,” Keely agreed. “But what about lunches? I could roast these delicata squash one day, and maybe another day make a salad using these endives. Aren’t they gorgeous?” She held up the pink and purple leaves for Frances to inspect.

“I’m not terribly fond of endives.”

“Have you ever had them charred, with a sweet balsamic? They’re amazing.”

“I suppose we could give that a try.”

“I’ll make something else for the same meal, so that you still have food if the endives aren’t to your liking.”

Frances smiled at her. “I have no fear of running out of food, Keely girl.”

“Good.”

“How about a roast chicken to go with all of those vegetables? A woman needs her protein.”

“Sure thing.”

“This stand over here has the dearest little birds, not like those factory farm monstrosities they hawk in the big grocery stores. These are the real thing, pasture raised. Of course, just one will still last me a week’s worth of lunches. You’ll roast it with lemon for me.”

“I’d be happy to. Here, let me buy some of those Meyer lemons before we walk over to the other stand.” Keely paused to select a few glowing yellow globes, breathing in their sweet fragrance.

“You know what else?” Frances handed her a bundle of fresh sage. “I have a craving for some pâté. They sell chicken livers too, that farm. Have you ever made pâté, Keely?”

“I have. My parents love it.”

“Good. Let’s have a batch of that as well. And that should be enough for the week.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Keely?” Frances looped their arms together as they walked through the market.

“Yes?”

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“You know what?” She smiled at the dear old lady. “I think so too.”

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