Page 39 of A Recipe Called Home

“It must be so scary to know you’ll have to take care of a small human soon,” Jules agreed.

“It’s not just that, which yes, is terrifying on its own,” she said looking up at Jules before taking a deep breath. “Last year, we lost a baby. Emily had a miscarriage around the fourteen-week mark, which is where she’s at right now.”

Jules felt punched in the gut. How could she not have known? It all made sense now.

“Oh, Win, I’m so sorry.” Jules reached for her hand.

“It’s alright. The doctor says the baby is healthy and growing, so we should focus on other things. But I just can’t seem to do that. It’s all I think about.”

Jules heart ached for her friend, who did not know how close to home her news hit.

“Whatever you need, please know that I’m here for you and Emily. I love you guys so much.”

“We love you, too. Who knows how bad I’d be if you weren’t here.”

Jules was glad she was home and could give Winnie support this time, but hearing about what happened made her feel guilty for being so self-centered. Jules had only focused on herself since the break-up with Luke, obsessing over her own life, and had missed that her friend was suffering a traumatic loss. She knew the ache of going through something like that alone.

“I promise I’ll stick around for anything you need.” And she meant it.

***

Her first shift cooking dinner at The Landing came sooner than expected. Jules spent most of Monday morning shopping for the ingredients she’d need to make a large batch of mozzarella and basil stuffed chicken that she planned to serve with fresh bread and a light, crispy Italian salad. The menu had popped into her head last night just as she was drifting off, causing her to click on her table light and jot down a shopping list and schedule for the next day. She got little sleep.

Filling her cart with food and seasonings at John’s Shoppe, her excitement grew alongside her nerves. She was looking forward to cooking in a large commercial-grade kitchen for the first time, but she worried she wouldn’t know how to use everything, so she rushed to give herself extra time.

Arriving two hours before she needed to, she was surprised to find Grandma Rosa waiting for her as she hauled the bags of groceries into the large, all stainless-steel kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Jules exclaimed.

“I thought you could use some help on your first day. It’s been a while, but I used to know my way around a kitchen like this,” she said, gazing at the space, which appeared to be brand new. “I had a feeling you’d come early.”

“Why does it look like no one has ever cooked in here?”

Just then, Val rounded the corner.

“That’s because this is the special ‘catering’ kitchen they put in for what they thought would be special meals for holidays and such. They built it for outside caterers, but that never happened,” Val explained. “Until you!”

Jules’ belly flipped with anticipation to get her hands on the equipment. But first, she needed to do a thorough inventory of the place to find out what she was working with.

“I’ll let you ladies get to it,” Val said before slipping back out.

For the next few hours, Jules and Rosa worked side by side, taking occasional breaks to rest. The time flew by as her grandma showed her how to prep everything she’d need before cooking and later how to cook the food so it would go out on time and be warm. It was hard work.

By the end of service, both were exhausted, yet proud of the meal they’d put together. They’d heard some ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as the food went out to the dining room and later received many compliments from the diners. It was a successful first night and the first time she hadn’t thought about her future or Miles on a constant loop since arriving back in Riverbend.

After helping the wait staff give the kitchen a good scrub, they headed home late in the evening. The night sky darkened with clouds, and a slight autumn chill caused Jules’ skin to prickle with goosebumps.

Upon arriving back at her grandma’s, Jules headed straight to the kitchen to make two cups of warm chamomile tea.

As Jules warmed the kettle on the stove, her grandma sat, slipping her shoes off to rub her feet. “So have you seen Miles at all?” she asked.

“Umm, yes. Yesterday for a few minutes.”

“I take it you’re cooling things off for a bit?”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Jules responded, biting the inside of her cheek as she filled the two mugs and set them on the table.

Her grandmother let out a moan of pleasure as she sipped her tea, humming a song Jules didn’t recognize. She was either too tired to respond or was letting Jules have space when it came to Miles.

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