Page 13 of Mistlefoes

A woman, a few years younger than me and wearing a net over her springy curls, looked up when we entered the kitchen. “Jackie! You brought a friend.” Her dark eyes scanned over me. “Pretty one, too.”

“Asia, this is my girlfriend, Jill.”

“Girlfriend! Damn! All the ladies will be crushed.”

I held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a second I felt dumb since Asia wore plastic gloves on both hands, but she seemed to think nothing of it as she whipped off one and wrapped her fingers around mine. “Back atcha. Jack and Jill. That’s super cute. Now tell me, what can you do?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged. “Cook. Serve food. Help with reading to kids or teaching—but I don’t have a degree in that or anything.”

Asia waved away my disclaimer. “The kids love story time after dinner, and they’ll love having someone new. You okay if they sit on your lap?”

I shrugged again, taken aback that someone might protest that. “Yeah.”

She nodded and pointed to her side. “Cool. Well, first up, you’re in charge of peeling potatoes, tonight. And reading later.”

“How many potatoes?”

“All of ’em that are there.”

I nodded and got to work, watching while Asia led Jack away to set up the serving table. She came back just as quickly, though, her arms full. “Forgot,” she said. “You need gear. The ever-so-stylish hairnet, gloves, and an apron. Don’t want to get your blouse messed up.”

“He told me we were going on a date.”

She laughed. “Girl, if he calls this a date, I’m glad I don’t like guys.”

Shaking her head, she walked away while I got to work. After what felt like a million potatoes later, I was smiling and dishing food onto trays.

“Hey, what’s your name?” a little boy with an unruly mop of blond curls asked. I guessed he was three or four and his mom to his side held his plate, a baby in a carrier on her front.

“I’m Jill. What’s your name?”

“Tom. I’m almost four.”

“Almost four?” I gasped. “Wow. You’re going to be all grown up soon. Make sure you eat your vegetables.”

His face screwed up. “Ick.”

“What do you like?” I asked.

“Cake.”

I leaned forward. “I heard there might be some for little boys who eat their green beans.”

Earlier, Asia had had me slicing an enormous sheet cake onto plates, and the plates were on huge round trays in the back.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed with a little hop.

“Thank you,” his mom said. “Some people ignore him.”

“Well, he’s adorable.”

“You’re with Jack?” She nodded over to where he was serving sliced turkey as if he were presiding over Thanksgiving dinner for his family.

“I am.”

“He’s a great guy. He’d been helping my boyfriend with reading. It’s hard, but Jack’s patient. With everyone.”

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