Chapter 30 #2
The next day, I picked up a rental car at the Vancouver airport, throwing the bag I’d brought from camp into the back seat.
It was difficult to keep below the speed limit.
I wanted to see Mia and Arne. I wanted to fix whatever had upset her.
Every minute she was stressed and worrying was a minute too long.
I soon pulled onto the familiar street. There was no car in the drive and my shoulders sagged. Had Mia left? Maybe she’d returned home. Maybe they’d worked on her, convinced her that whatever had driven her away was something she should give in and put up with. I was too late.
Or, the logical side of my brain noted, maybe Mia was at work and Arne at Barney’s. I needed to chill before I scared them off.
I parked down the street, in case she came back and a car in the drive spooked her. I grabbed my duffel and used my key to enter the house. I went straight upstairs and almost cheered when I saw the clothes and toys in Jess’s old bedroom. They hadn’t left.
It was just after lunch, since the first flight I’d been able to find a seat on left Toronto at ten.
I had time to fill and needed something to keep myself busy, so I went to the nearest grocery store, wearing a ball cap and sunglasses as a disguise, and got the ingredients to make lasagna.
Everyone liked lasagna, right? It took time to make the sauce, getting the layers of flavor built up.
I’d bought stuff to make a salad, and store garlic bread and dessert, since I didn’t have Jess’s talent for baking.
I sent Jess a quick message, telling her that I was here and making dinner, and why hadn’t she left some baking in the freezer?
She sent back a raised middle finger emoji, and good luck.
It was late, based on my expectations, when I finally heard someone at the door. The lasagna was keeping warm, the salad ready to go, and the garlic bread needed just a few minutes. I drew in a long breath.
“What’s that smell, Mommy? It’s making me hungry.” I smiled at Arne’s enthusiasm.
“Shh.” Mia spoke in a low voice, then raised it to say, “Hello?”
I stepped into the kitchen doorway so they could see me. I was smiling; it was just so damn good to see them again. I didn’t know how to express it though, so I merely said, “Hi.”
I heard Arne’s excited “Mr. Justin!” but kept my eyes on Mia’s face. Her eyes went wide when she saw me, and her mouth lifted in the beginning of a smile before the shutters came down.
I’d have preferred her to run into my arms, but that was too much to expect. She didn’t know why I was here, and she’d been through a rough time—I could take it slow. But her first unguarded response had been happy, so I was going to build on that.
She twisted her hands together. “Uh, what are you doing here? Should we leave?”
I shook my head.
Her eyes narrowed. “Jess told you.”
I nodded.
“Why are you— Don’t you have hockey camp?”
“We can talk after we eat.” I nodded at Arne, who was listening to us with interest.
She huffed and nodded.
I turned my full attention to the boy. “Hey. Do you like lasagna?”
He nodded vigorously. “Yeah. What is lasanna?”
Mia was over her shock. “You don’t have to feed us. I have food.”
I looked at her and shrugged. “I had time.”
“Mommy, I’ve never had lasanna and it smells really good.”
Her shoulders sagged as she decided not to fight it. “If you’re sure.”
“I am. Arne needs to know what lasagna is.”
Mia was wearing wrinkled scrubs, shadows under her eyes.
I wanted to fix that, and I hoped part of it was from missing me, not just her family shit.
But one step at a time. I ushered them into the kitchen, where I had the table set for three.
While they found their seats, I pulled the lasagna out of the oven and stuck the garlic bread in.
I gave the salad a toss and brought it to the table.
“It’ll be a minute for the lasagna and garlic bread. We can start with salad.”
Mia still looked confused, but she put a portion of salad on Arne’s plate and then some for herself, before passing it to me.
“I like garlic bread,” Arne informed me, looking skeptically at the Caesar salad.
“You need to eat vegetables,” Mia responded.
I took a bite of salad to provide a good example.
Arne stabbed some lettuce and peered suspiciously before sticking it his mouth.
He chewed slowly, looking unimpressed. I held back a smile.
The stove dinged so I got up to get the garlic bread out.
I put it in a basket, one Grandma always used for bread, and set it on the table before portioning the lasagna and putting it on plates.
“I can’t eat all that,” Mia protested when I gave her a plate.
I shrugged, because I thought she was too thin. She could use some indulging.
“I can!” Arne proclaimed, pushing the salad aside to get to the good stuff.
“It’s hot,” Mia warned.
Arne blew on his forkful several times before shoving it in his mouth. “Thshgate,” he said.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mia said automatically.
He swallowed. “This is great, Mr. Justin.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
“Try it, Mommy. It’s even better than pizza.”
Mia smiled. “High praise.” She took a careful bite and her eyes closed.
The expression on her face? Way too close to her sex face, and I shifted in my seat.
“That is incredible, Justin. I can’t believe you let me cook for you when you can make something like this.”
“I couldn’t use my hand. And I appreciate everything you did for me.”
Mia’s cheeks flushed and she returned to her food.
Arne caught me up on everything he’d done since I’d been gone. He mentioned his dad occasionally, but not often enough to make me believe Erik had been around a lot. Mia didn’t say much, but she did finish her lasagna, as well as a couple of pieces of garlic bread.
She started to clear the plates, but I stopped her. “This meal is on me,” I insisted. I grabbed the plates and brought back the cupcakes I’d bought. “Sorry, these aren’t homemade. Jess is the baker.”
Arne’s grin almost split his face. “This is the best meal ever.” The words warmed me.
“What does Jess bake, other than cupcakes?” Mia asked.
“Amazing bread. Cakes, pies, and cookies—plus some fancy things.”
“I like cookies,” Arne said.
I laughed. Mia shook her head. “I don’t think you need anything else. Why don’t you grab your backpack and read your book while I help Justin clean up.” She glared at me. “I’m not just sitting around while you do all the work.”
She’d been working all day, but if I let her help, she might be more receptive to the conversation we’d be having once Arne was in bed.