Page 56 of Already Home

“We shouldn’t get too involved.”

“But we need to be there for Jenna. This is important. Do youwant me to ignore them?”

“No.” He sounded as frustrated as she felt. “I think whatyou’re doing is admirable, but it’s also dangerous. We’re not all going to beone big happy family. Life doesn’t work that way. I don’t like how they’ve justshown up with no warning. What do they want?”

“Why do they have to want anything?”

“Because everybody has a motive.”

“That’s cynical,” she told him, glaring.

“It’s realistic.” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to fightwith you. I also don’t want you or Jenna to be hurt. I’m saying be careful. Youdon’t want to lose your daughter.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Beth said firmly. “Jenna and Ihave a special relationship. I’m her mother.”

“So’s Serenity.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s reality. You’re pushing them together. Make sure youcan live with the consequences.”

“Why do you always have to see the worst in people?” shedemanded. “This is a good thing.”

“I hope so, Beth.”

He pushed the start button on the dishwasher, then walked outof the kitchen. She stared after him, still angry and suddenly hungry.

Men were stupid, she told herself. They didn’t understand howimportant relationships were to women. It wasn’t possible that she could loseJenna. They meant the world to each other.

* * *

One of Jenna’s earliest cooking memories was how excitedshe’d been about Tuesday nights. That was the night she got to cook dinner forher parents. The weekend before, she would pore over her Cook’s Illustrated magazine, deciding what she wanted to tackle.

The magazine had been one of her favorites for years. What sheloved was how they explained all the different variations of a recipe they’dtried and why each one worked or didn’t work. Cook’sIllustrated had given her the idea of experimenting with arecipe.

Once she’d chosen her menu, she’d give her mother a shoppinglist. Beth would faithfully buy everything, even when it meant going tospecialty stores to find the right spice or an imported oil. When Jenna got homefrom school, she’d go to work.

Some dinners had turned out exactly as she’d planned, and somehad been disasters. But even when the roast burned or the sauce was curdled, shehad been delighted with her effort. She’d known she could fix what had gonewrong and would do better next time. Growing up in her mother’s kitchen, she’dfound her calling.

Now she stood in the small kitchen in her rented town house andcarefully stirred the rice pudding. She’d written down Serenity’s recipe and hadrisked making a few changes of her own. When the sauce had thickened to thecorrect consistency, she scooped the mixture into a bowl and let it cool.

For the first time in a long time, she was excited abouttasting something she’d cooked. Deep down inside, she knew it was going to beokay. Maybe not brilliant, but good.

After fifteen minutes, she couldn’t stand it anymore and took ataste. The texture was perfect, creamy without being too soggy, sweet withoutbeing sugary, with a hint of hazelnut. That was her addition. The twist. And ithad worked.

* * *

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” Jenna askednervously, as she put out cans of Italian tomatoes onto the variousworkstations. “I’m afraid it makes me look desperate.”

“It’s going to be great,” Violet assured her. “First Fridaysare special in Georgetown. All the downtown businesses get involved, stayingopen later. Come on, it’s just one class. Relax.”

“It’s a class for singles on a Friday night. What if no oneshows?”

“Then you don’t have to be worried about anything.”

“I guess.”

“And you’re not desperate.”

---