Page 56 of Recipe for Rivals
“I remember now,” she said, smiling. “Hot chocolate. You’re the one with the sweet tooth.”
Did she remember everyone by their diner orders? If so, what had she pegged me as? Burger Man? Bacon Boy? Coffee Kid?
“Yeah, guilty,” Tucker said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m happy to help.”
She shot him a grateful look. “Thank you.”
Tucker nodded, then let himself out, leaving us with heavy silence. Until the bed creaked, like a little monkey was jumping on the mattress.
“Alice,” Nova called. “Get off that.”
“Two more minutes!”
“Alice,” she repeated, sternly. “Now. Dinner’s ready.” Nova picked up a hot pad and carried the lasagna to the table.
Alice ran from the bedroom, but stopped when she noticed me, her eyes growing wide and her motions drawing inward.
“Set the table, please,” Nova said to her.
“Can I help you, Alice?” I asked. “I need something to do.”
She nodded.
We worked together to set the table while Nova mixed a salad and sliced the bread I’d brought. By the time we all sat at the table, my mouth was salivating from the smell alone.
Alice ran her finger along the ridge of the table, her eyes wide. “It’s like the one we had at home,” she said softly.
Nova nodded, her eyes rising to meet mine. “Same shape, but that’s about the only similarity. This is such a great table.”
I ran my finger over the well creased ridges of letters overlapping math problems. “I did homework on this thing for many years, so it’s a little worn in.”
“That’s the best kind of furniture though. The lived-in kind.” She dished lasagna onto Alice’s plate, then mine. “Our place back in New York was mostly filled with things I’d thrifted and painted or reupholstered.”
My eyebrows shot up.
She was quick to straighten my perception with a self-deprecating laugh while she cut Alice’s lasagna into bites, steam rising from the plate. “Don’t be impressed. They were very obviously done by an amateur, but I loved each piece because it had been made to my specifications. I got to choose the color or the fabric or the hardware.”
No wonder she loved her blue velvet couch. Nova valued connection, and that couch came with a story and a stranger’s kindness. I was suddenly dying to see the furniture she had put such great care into. “Are you planning to bring your things out here eventually?”
Nova glanced up sharply. “No. I can’t. None of it is mine anymore.”
We finished making our plates before I ate a bite of lasagna and died, traveling straight to the Italian heavens. It was fantastic. I prided myself on being a good cook, but I didn’t think I’d ever made anything so flavorful and rich and saucy, with the perfect balance of cheesiness.
“This is amazing.”
Nova blushed. “It’s just lasagna.”
“It’s the best lasagna I’ve ever had. So creamy.”
“That’s my secret ingredient.”
“New York magic?”
“Cottage cheese.”
“My mom is the best cook,” Alice said quietly.
Nova’s attention snapped to her daughter, her surprise evident.