10. Kiera
Kiera
T hings were working out well with Hunter.
When Kiera and her mother first brought up the possibility of help, she worried that Nana would take the idea as an affront to her independence, but she and Hunter got along easily.
They settled into a routine pretty quickly, even with the scheduling surprises that Hunter’s sister seemed to throw at her often, and Kiera was happy to know there was someone at home to look after Nana while she was at school. That meant a lot to her.
One day during Hunter’s second week, Kiera came home from class to the smell of something amazing baking in the oven.
Hunter and Nana had cataloged the majority of her recipes by then and in the process, Nana had become nostalgic for quite a few of them.
This must be one of the recipes that she’d begun craving, and as Kiera walked down the hall to the kitchen, she breathed deep and tried to guess what it was by the smell.
Something in the carbohydrate family, with lots of butter and a hint of garlic.
Her stomach began to growl and Kiera realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She licked her lips as she entered the kitchen, then laughed at the sight in front of her.
Hunter was standing in the middle of a disaster area, pots and pans filling the cooktop, her hair wild and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The best part? She was wearing one of Nana’s old aprons, complete with pink ruffles and lace. So not Hunter’s usual, rugged flannel look.
“What are you doing?” Kiera asked, grinning at her.
“Training for a decathlon, obviously,” Hunter said, putting a big wooden spoon into one of the pots to stir its contents.
“You’re definitely doing ten things at once,” Kiera said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. The polite thing to do would be to offer assistance, but she was enjoying this a bit too much to jump to Hunter’s aid right away.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Hunter said, replacing the lid on the pot. “I’ll clean it up.”
“Just as long as you don’t get anything on your outfit,” Kiera said, teasing her about the apron.
Hunter looked down at it and blushed, clearly having forgotten that she was wearing it. “Oh, right. Every time I make spaghetti sauce at home, it splatters. Abby told me to borrow this apron.”
“Where is she?” Kiera asked. She set her backpack on the end of the island and came a little closer, lifting the lid of the pot and seeing a red sauce bubbling within.
“She’s upstairs napping,” Hunter said. “She took me for a tour of the property this afternoon and got tired.”
"Oh yeah? What did you think of it?”
Kiera had been coming to this house ever since she was a girl for weekly dinners with her grandparents, and she’d spent a lot of summers here when she was too young to stay by herself and both her parents were at work.
The property was expansive and heavily wooded, and when she was little, Kiera thought it was like stepping into a fairy tale.
There was a large guest house that Kiera and her cousins treated as the world’s largest play house, plus a small pond where they spent lazy afternoons skipping rocks and swimming, and walking trails that led through the woods.
"It's beautiful," Hunter said. “I’d love to see more of the grounds someday, when Abby has the energy to go for a longer walk.”
"Or maybe I could take you," Kiera said. The suggestion came out impulsively, but she really loved the idea – showing Hunter all her favorite places would be like seeing them through virgin eyes. She smiled at Hunter, then turned her attention back to the stove. “So this is Nana’s famous spaghetti sauce?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said. “Or, as close as I could get to it. I’m not much of a cook.”
“It smells great,” Kiera said, taking a few steps closer to Hunter so she could peek into the oven – the source of the buttery aroma that was making her mouth water.
“Don’t get too excited,” Hunter cautioned. “That’s just frozen garlic bread, and there’s nothing special about the pasta, either. I’m no miracle worker.”
“It looks great,” Kiera said. She glanced side-long at Hunter, then smiled and said, “You know lavish meals aren’t part of your job duties, right?”
“Abby’s gotta eat,” Hunter said. “And I figured you might be hungry after class. Besides, there’s nothing lavish about spaghetti and garlic bread.”
Kiera allowed her gaze to linger on Hunter.
Although they were close in age, her hazel eyes hinted at wisdom beyond her years, and there was something about her that made Kiera feel instantly safe and comfortable in her presence.
Even if she was wearing a ridiculous pink apron that made it hard to take her seriously.
“Why don’t you stay and eat with us?” Kiera asked, another impulsive move.
“Oh, I shouldn’t-”
“Do you have to get home to watch your nephews?” Kiera asked.
“No,” Hunter said, taking a step away from Kiera on the pretense of grabbing a pair of oven mitts. “Piper worked an early shift today and she’ll be there to get them off the school bus. I just don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” Kiera said. “You’re enjoying the fruits of your labor.”
“I have been salivating over that sauce,” Hunter admitted. “I’ve never had spaghetti sauce that didn’t come out of a jar. I guess I could stay a little while. Just let me call my sister and let her know.”
“Okay,” Kiera said, satisfied. “I’ll go wake Nana.”
She headed for the door, but paused at the end of the kitchen island, unzipping her backpack on the counter. Then she said, “Oh, by the way, I got you something.”
“You did?” Hunter asked.
Kiera pulled a small box out of her bag and slid it across the island as if it were a cocktail on a bar. Hunter caught it and turned it toward herself, then said, “Are you serious? This is too much.”
It was a smartphone - one that didn’t flip open and wouldn’t cut in and out with static during every phone call. Kiera had picked it up for Hunter on her way home from school today because she thought Hunter might appreciate stepping into the twenty-first century.
"That fossil that you call a phone is ridiculous," Kiera said with a smirk. "You can’t text on it and every time I call to arrange your work schedule, I have to wait while you go outside to find a good signal. Plus, it's going to be winter soon and I can’t have you getting frost-bitten on my account.”
"This is too generous," Hunter said. “I was planning to upgrade my phone as soon as Piper and I get a few other bills paid.”
"Well, now you can keep your money for other things,” Kiera said, trying to brush off the gesture. “It’s not a big deal - just a business expense. I need to be able to reach you, and this will make both of our lives a little easier."
“Okay,” Hunter said tentatively, as if she still wasn’t sure she wanted to accept the gift. She pulled the lid off the box, though, and took out the phone to inspect it.
"It's preprogrammed and ready to go," Kiera said. "I added my phone number to the contact list. I'm going to wake up Nana and get her ready for dinner."
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and left the kitchen before Hunter had any further opportunity to object.
By the time she got to the hall, Kiera’s cheeks were hot and a grin played over her lips.
If Hunter wasn’t her mother’s employee, that would have been a pretty slick pick-up line, programming her number into the phone, and Kiera’s heart was pounding from an unexpected surge of adrenaline.
It was silly. She really had bought the phone because she was tired of dealing with Hunter’s ridiculous old one, and she didn’t expect Hunter to use her number for anything other than coordinating their schedules.
Besides, Kiera already had a love interest. She’d been head over heels for Lauren since freshman year. That kind of love doesn’t just disappear once you’ve found out that your feelings aren’t reciprocated, even if there is a good deal of pain and embarrassment that goes along with that realization.
Kiera loved Lauren.
Right?
By the time Kiera got the color out of her cheeks then woke Nana and the two of them came back downstairs, Hunter was setting places in the dining room.
She’d found a couple of silver candlesticks in the china cabinet along the wall, as well as placemats and a table runner, and Kiera smiled when she saw the elaborate table.
“Wow,” she said. “It looks like Christmas.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Hunter said. “I’ve never had a proper meal in a house this nice. I thought candles and placemats would be a nice touch.”
“It looks wonderful, dear,” Nana said. “How did my alfredo recipe turn out?”
“It was tomato sauce,” Hunter corrected gently.
“Right, that’s what I meant,” Nana said.
“I think it turned out perfectly,” Hunter said. “Which is a testament to your recipe because I’ve never made anything from scratch before.”
“Do you need help carrying the dishes into the dining room?” Kiera asked as she helped Nana into her customary chair.
Hunter accepted her offer, so they went to the kitchen together.
Hunter had cut the garlic bread into slices and arranged it on a serving tray, and there was a large bowl of spaghetti and tomato sauce next to it.
As Kiera reached for the bowl, she smiled at Hunter and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?”
“Nana seems to like you a lot and you’ve been a big help,” she said. Their eyes met and Kiera’s pulse quickened. She wondered if Hunter could tell that she liked having her here, too. Then to cut the tension, Kiera pointed out, “You’re still wearing the apron.”
“Oh,” Hunter said, looking bashfully down at the frilly old thing.