42
“All right, the frying oil is ready,” Liesl announced. “Bring ’em.”
Clara brought the cutting board to the stove and they carefully placed tortilla strips into the deep avocado oil.
They were making chilaquiles. Her aunt had assured her that they were not complicated, but Clara hadn’t wanted to attempt them on her own. So far it had been a lot of roasting and blending—nothing too scary. But a massive pan full of oil was a little intimidating to a novice.
“Something smells good,” her uncle said hopefully, entering the room.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” his wife replied.
“That case, I’ll stick around,” Jim decided, going to wash his hands at the sink. “How’s life, Clara?”
How was life? “Good,” she said briefly.
“That bad, huh?”
She treated him to some side-eye.
“I have teenagers,” he reminded her. “Don’t bother trying to fell me with a glance.”
She laughed reluctantly. “Sorry. It’s going fine. The office is closed until April, so I’ve been sewing a lot. I’m almost done with those dresses for the twins. And I’ve been exercising the dog like crazy. She has more energy than I thought possible.”
“Saw her out back a minute ago, herding my chickens.”
“Yeah, she loves it here. Dad’s horses just ignore her when she tries to round them up.”
“She’s pretty quick on three legs. When’s the cast come off?”
“Not for another month at least. I’ve given up trying to keep her immobile, though.”
“Heard from Jesse much?” he asked bluntly.
“No,” she admitted.
“Still like him, don’t you?” he asked curiously.
“Yes. Like, a reasonable amount.”
He grinned. “Thought so. You know what you need? A little change of scenery. Your aunt tell you Eve invited us to see her school play? Fiddler on the Roof , wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” Liesl confirmed.
Their daughter Eve, Birdie’s little sister, taught music at a private high school in Austin. She lived in an apartment with their third daughter, Portia, but Portia was studying abroad in Spain.
“You should tag along,” Jim said, nudging her. “See what there is to see. Visit your old stomping grounds. Meet a friend for a cocktail. Huh? Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?”
“All right, all right, I get it,” she exclaimed, laughing and pushing him away because he was nudging her harder and harder. “I’m trying to cook!”
“A doctor friend,” he clarified.
“I knew what you meant!”
“I’d be happy to give you my ticket to the play,” he added generously. “You and Liesl and Eve could have a nice girls’ weekend.”
“Very generous of you,” Clara said sarcastically. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you not wanting to watch teenagers sing and dance.”
“That’s just a little added bonus for me,” he said.
“I’m driving to Austin day after tomorrow,” Liesl told her. “I plan to stay two nights with Eve and drive back on Sunday. You’re welcome to join me. It’d be nice to go with someone who isn’t going to complain the whole time.”
“I never complain,” Jim objected.
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be avoiding Jesse at this point,” Clara admitted doubtfully. “I have to talk to my strategist. But I’d like to go, if he says it’s all right.”
It had been weeks—three of them, with very minimal contact. She sent Jesse pictures of the dog every other day or so, and he replied with emojis. One emoji for each picture. Sometimes they didn’t even make sense. She almost wondered if the very efficient Margo was doing it for him.
Her father had no objection to the plan when she laid it out for him, so she texted Jesse to make sure he would be available to see them—if not in the evening, maybe for brunch. To take the pressure off, she made it a group text with Eve and Hart. She didn’t bother inviting the men to Fiddler .
I’ll be in Austin with Liesl this Fri. Can we meet for drinks?
Hart’s reply was instantaneous.
No im leaving tomorrow for aruba
Eve’s was next.
Yes! I’m in!
Jesse’s came twenty minutes later.
Maybe. Would have to be after 9pm.
She could work with that. She texted Hart separately asking if they could stay in his apartment, which she knew to be impressive but hadn’t seen in person. He answered that he would tell the concierge to expect them.
Then she texted Eve.
Staycation at Hart’s this weekend while he’s in Aruba? He has an indoor pool!
I’ll bring the guac!