Page 4 of A Table for Two
“Hey, Nana.” He kissed her smooth brown cheek. Her familiar floral scent surrounded him. Even in her late seventies, Della Williams was still a striking woman and wore her age well. Had his mother lived, he knew exactly what she would’ve looked like at that age.
She reached up, palmed his face, and studied him through eyes that mirrored his. “How are you, baby?”
“I’m okay. Still a little tired from the drive, but I got everything put away.”
“Good. Come on in. I need to get my handbag, and then we can go.”
He followed her inside and watched her walk down the short hallway to her bedroom and smiled, grateful that she had no lingering effects from the stroke she’d had a year after his parents’ deaths. He wandered over to the photos hanging on one wall of the living room. His heart clenched, seeing a picture of his parents that was taken at one of the lakes in town. Losing them had devastated him, but he’d kept his grief hidden in an effort to be strong for Andrea.
“I’m ready. I can’t wait to see what Serenity has on the menu tonight. Ooh, she can cook!”
“So I heard.” He could do this. It was just one dinner.
Chapter 2
Serenity muttered under her breath about rude people as she cut the corn off the cob.
“Girl, you’ve been fussing since I got here,” Natasha said, taking plates from the cabinet. “What are you so upset about?”
She blew out a long breath. “While I was picking out corn at the grocery store, some guy came up to me and made a snippy comment about the corn being dried out because I pricked a kernel. I had accidentally squirted him in the eye and apologized, but after that remark, I wanted to squirt the entire ear in his face. Then he had the nerve to diss my cooking skills.”
“Whoa. Who was it?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen him before.” Living in a town with a population of just under two thousand, she knew pretty much everyone here. “Probably one of the employees from that new manufacturing company that recently opened right outside town.”
Natasha leaned against the counter next to Serenity. “A few of them came into the office looking for houses to rent or buy, and they were rude, acting like because we live in a small town, I wouldn’t know how to sell a house.” She rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with people.” She picked up the next ear of corn.
“What did he look like?”
“Who?”
“The guy in the store.”
Serenity shrugged. “He was all right. I didn’t pay that much attention.” Okay, that wasn’texactlythe truth. The man’s hazel eyes framed by those long eyelashes had grabbed her attention the moment their gazes locked. That had also been part of her irritation. She was far past the age of being worked up over a man. Any man.
Natasha chuckled. “In other words, he looked good.”
Serenity threw away the cobs and wiped the counter where some of the liquid had splattered.Dried out, indeed.Ignoring her friend’s comment, she said, “I think we’ll eat outside, since the weather is nice.” The early-June temperatures had climbed into the low eighties, making it perfect for outdoor dining.
“Okay. I’ll set the table, and you can let me know which candles you want to use.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Natasha started toward the sliding glass door, then stopped. “Serenity, don’t let him get under your skin. You’re a great cook, and it doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
Serenity nodded. “You’re right.” She found the candles she wanted and took them outside, where Natasha was setting the table. Serenity had several different sets of china, ranging from casual to elegant, as well as a variety of patterned cloth napkins. Her friend seemed to always know the best combinations. “I think you need to forget real estate and take up table decorating. You always make everything look so beautiful.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with what I know best,” Natasha said with a smile. “Then again, maybe I can use this as a step toward finally using my interior design degree.”
Laughing, Serenity went back inside to roll out the dough for the French bread. Soft jazz played in the background, and soon she was lost in the one place that soothed her. She’d gotten her love of cooking from both her grandmothers and, as a child, while her sister and cousins were outside playing, preferred spending her time in the kitchen beside them, learning and listening. They’d shared not just recipes but also their hearts. Every ingredient was filled with love and the taste, divine. Serenity applied that same love when she cooked. By the time she finished the sweet, sticky teriyaki glaze that would accompany the grilled salmon, she had forgotten all about her earlier encounter.
The doorbell rang, and Natasha, who was just finishing tossing the ingredients for the kale salad, said, “I’ll get it. It’s probably Dana or Terri.” She placed the bowl in the refrigerator and headed toward the front. She came back with both women.
“Hey, y’all,” Serenity called out.
“Hey,” the women chorused.
