Page 35 of Her Summer Hope

She hadn’t had anything so good in a long time.

The kids were always hungry and needed snacks. She picked up the cheap brand of peanut butter and a box of saltines while eyeing the jelly. She had to buy diapers, she reminded herself, and so the jelly stayed on the shelf.

It was the end of summer and fresh vegetables were cheaper than frozen, so she bought those. At the meat case, she debated, but in the end, she just bought chicken again because it was cheaper than turkey and healthier than pork. With the dried beans, rice, and flour, she could make up a week's worth of meals.

One day, she wouldn’t have to worry so much about money.

She tried to see this as a learning experience, a way to test herself, but the lesson was harsh and she just barely kept herself from tearing up in the cereal aisle.

Oatmeal went into the cart, but the cereal was too expensive.

It’s not healthy anyway.

But it still hurt that she couldn’t get the kids little treats like that sometimes.

She felt hollow inside as she put her groceries on the conveyor belt and watched the numbers add up. She felt the tingle of nerves in her throat as the cashier announced the final total. She carefully pulled the bills from her purse, counting out the exact change.

She loaded up the groceries in the rain and tried not to think about how she was out of money for the week. Everything else was needed for bills.

The drive home was slow and she tapped the steering wheel impatiently, wanting to have a little time to hug the kids and cuddle with Em before she had to go to Kyle’s.

∞∞∞

She pulled up to the kitchen door as she had gotten used to doing, but there was a Jeep parked in her spot. She backed out and went back around front, steeling herself for yet another dash through the rain.

She wasn’t even dry from the grocery store trip yet.

Emmie had been content and happy when she left after feeding her and putting the groceries away. Helen had bought the boys some kind of game that had them completely engrossed. Ellie had her face buried in a book but had given her a good hug and assured her that she’d keep the boys in line.

She sounded so grown up. Madison worried that she was missing out on just being a kid.

She slammed the car door and dashed to the back porch. Her foot slipped on the slippery wooden step and she slammed her shin into the edge of the rough wood. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up before walking more carefully to the back door, cursing a blue streak in her mind.

The door was unlocked and she pushed her way in.

A man was standing at the dubious dishwasher, transferring clean dishes to a cart. He looked up suspiciously as she came in and she felt awkward and gauche under his scrutiny. He was older than she was, and he seemed angry, sullen.

He must be the daytime cook—chef, she reminded herself. She was the cook and he was a chef, a master of the skill.

She had to be careful, or he’d sniff out her lie faster than a hound dog on a rabbit’s trail.

She stiffened her lips and raised her chin. She wouldn’t let some stranger make her feel inferior. She ignored the throbbing of her shin and walked into the kitchen as if it were her own. She had every right to be here.

“I’m Madison,” she said, nodding at him politely.

“I know who you are,” he said, narrowing his eyes and looking her up and down. He was inspecting her. It made her a tad bit angry.

“I’m here to start the evening meal and then I’ll be out of your way,” she said tersely.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” he said and she froze.

“There’s no cabbage on the menu,” he said, pointing with a wooden spoon at the clipboard with the curling pages on the wall.

She raised an eyebrow. “I was given the impression that I was responsible for planning the evening meals.”

“That may be so, but your food pairings puzzle me a bit,” he said, not backing down.

“And?” she asked. “Has anyone complained?”