Page 36 of Almost True
“I appreciate that. You do realize I’m perfectly capable of dumping that, right?”
I poured the pasta into a waiting strainer sitting in the deep stainless sink. “I imagine you’re perfectly capable of just about anything. My doing this is no reflection of whether I think you have the ability and more to do with the fact that I feel fundamentally uncomfortable standing by and watching people do things I could be helping with.”
I set the steaming pot aside and turned to find her squinting at me, lips tucked in.
“Bad answer?”
She shook her head once. “Nope. Perfect answer.”
* * *
Luca’s eyes flicked to me, then away, then back again.
I didn’t hide my amusement. “Need something?”
“Can I be excused?” he asked.
“You got big plans?”
I could feel Maddie watching the exchange. She sat back in the comfortable dining chair like she had nowhere to be, cradling a cup of tea.
An exaggerated smile covered Luca’s face. He’d entered that in-between stage, where he didn’t have a baby face anymore, but he wasn’t quite a teen, and times like these I couldn’t help but think his eyes and teeth were endearingly too big for his head.
“Thought you could carry on some adult conversation, and I could read quietly in the corner?”
Maddie’s chuckle made me look at her in time to see her grinning at him. She raised her brows at me like she couldn’t wait to see my response.
“Sure, bud. You can hang out wherever Maddie says is okay.”
Luca’s big eyes swung to our host, who smiled brightly back at him.
“I was just going to see if your dad wanted to step out onto the deck and enjoy the view now that the sun is setting. You’re welcome to join us and sit in a chair out there, but anywhere in the kitchen or living room is fine, too.”
Luca nodded and excused himself to the living room. Maddie rose, so I followed, collecting the last of the silverware and glasses so she wouldn’t have to clear the table later.
“Oh, thank you. You—” She shook her head. “Thanks.”
I nodded, pleased she seemed to accept the help without insisting she didn’t need it. For a woman who had hired help in several different capacities, the fact that she’d cooked and served the meal herself came as its own surprise. But her ease and casual way of doing things—family style served from the stove, tea and the cookies we’d brought for dessert—it all felt so normal.
Nothing like I’d assumed. I’d thought at the very least she’d have a personal chef, who I’d been certain existed, cook for us. During the meal, we talked about everything from cooking tomato sauce to the finer merits of Mithril as a defense against orcs. We really covered the full gamut, and the fact that Maddie held her own in everything from tomato selection to the most trivial details of my son’sLord of the Ringsobsession had my mind racing.
“Thank you for coming tonight. I’m glad we could do this,” she said as I closed the door to the deck behind me.
“Me, too.”
She leaned on the banister and looked out at the sunset. Predictably for this property, it was astounding. The sky’s pinks and oranges bursting above us cast her in a warm glow as I approached.
“I made sure not to plant anything that’ll grow tall enough to disturb the view. It’s all shrubs out that way other than what you’ve already got coming up here.” I pointed to the copse of aspen trees on the south side. “Those boys will get tall on you, but they’ll frame the view like the curtains of a stage.”
She didn’t turn toward me when she said, “That’s a nice image. I like the way you put things.”
Warmth suffused me. I wasn’t an eloquent man—at least, I didn’t think of myself that way. Someone as highly educated and sophisticated as Maddie probably knew all kinds of intellectually brilliant people. Heck, she was one of those people, based on the handful of interactions we’d had. So her thinking I said things she liked? It pleased me.
We watched the sunset a while longer before I gathered up the courage to ask her what I’d wanted to for days now. I hoped it wouldn’t ruin everything we’d slowly rebuilt.
“Can I ask about what happened? The stalker?”
She sighed, her shoulders deflating before she stood tall. The furrow at her brow shot me right back to the last time I’d asked her about it. “Please, just tell me to shove it if you don’t want to talk about it.”
