Page 26 of Again, In Autumn

“Like a business,” he says, giving her an expression I know all too well. The big brother eyes. The don’t be like this look.

“It’s my mother’s recipe,” Francesca snaps. Then, she gauges the energy in the room.

David’s admonishment, Adam’s indifference, my statue-like state.

“But, whatever, yeah, sure,” she mutters. “Not that Vienna wants to become a professional baker or anything. She doesn’t have time with her job. Besides, who would watch our children during the holidays?”

“A nanny.” David tugs on the chair beside him. “Have a seat, Vee.”

Francesca pulls open cabinets. “But first, Vee, where can we put this fish? Where does Heddy keep salad bowls and –”

David laughs, “Fran, you are not putting the fish in a salad bowl!”

I tug off my boots and, barefoot, cross the room, trying to keep my expression as vacant as possible. My feet stick against the wood, the hem of my shorts has a tear in them, and I’m sure my eyes are crusty.

At least I don’t have to worry about Adam falling in love with me all over again.

“How about a vase?” I suggest, pausing in front of the stove and pointing to the cabinet above.

“Who puts glass objects on the highest possible shelf?” Francesca complains. “Heddy’s a munchkin. You think she’d know better. I’ll get a stool.”

A gruff, melodic voice offers, “I got it.”

“No,” I deny out of instinct.

I’m a lot of undesirable things, but illogically proud is not one of them. If I’m capable, I’d like to do it myself.

Adam and I finally meet eyes again. He’s standing, ready to easily reach into the cabinet, a paused look on his vacant face. I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. I’m praying that it’s on purpose.

I force my voice to work. “I got it.” I walk over to the table and take Fran’s chair. It falls on its legs and everyone stares at the sound as I drag it across the kitchen.

“Drama, this one,” Francesca mutters.

I climb on the chair and reach for a wide, cylindrical glass vase. After placing it on the counter and hopping to the ground, I call out, “Hey, Gray!”

He shuffles into the room holding his iPad and leans against the doorway. “What?”

Francesca scolds, “Excuse me. Try again.”

He sighs. “Yes, Auntie Vee?”

I squat, meeting him at eye level. “I’m sorry I broke Miggy’s bowl. It was a complete accident. I’ll buy you another one. For now, will this work?”

He glances behind me. His eyes narrow, his mouth purses. He doesn’t want to let me off the hook, but he answers, “That works.”

“Do you forgive me?”

A small lift creeps into the corner of his mouth. “Only if you make up for it.”

David snorts a laugh.

“How?” I squint.

Grayson bites back a smile. “It’ll come to me. It’ll come to me.” He looks over at the laughter coming from the table. “Who are you?” he wonders.

At that, Adam takes a step forward, crossing his legs and leaning his hip into the counter, things I only notice from my periphery because I can’t bear to look at him straight on again.

“I’m Adam Kent,” he says. “I live next door. I’m a friend of your parents.”

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