Chapter 15 RECIPE FOR ROMANCE
RECIPE FOR ROMANCE
When I came back inside, Rosie was frowning over Bertha, her moth orchid.
One of the earliest members of the plant collection that Rosie had dubbed the Sisterhood of the Travelling Plants, she was a stunning pink specimen that had lived in the reading room for at least a decade, and whose offshoots Rosie had carefully propagated.
She gave them as gifts, and roughly half of the cove now boasted a Bertha of their own.
‘Poor Bertha’s not doing well,’ she said, drumming her nails against the counter. Mom had worked her manicure magic on them, I saw – they were a sparkling bluish green, like the ocean.
There was a hitch in Rosie’s voice, and I could tell she was struggling to keep it together.
‘Everything’s going awry at the moment,’ she said, reaching for her cup of tea. It was empty, and she sighed.
‘Here. Let me brew you another.’ Setting the kettle to boil, I gathered her favourite mountain-rose loose-leaf blend in a strainer. I frowned, noticing that yesterday’s wilt-proof zinnias were also looking worse for wear.
‘I’m starting to feel like this house is cursed,’ she said glumly, following her gaze. ‘My marshmallows didn’t set. My wallpaper’s crooked! And now Bertha is dropping her flowers.’
I put the steeping tea in front of her. ‘I think you might just need a break, Rosie. You’ve been working around the clock looking after us and working on the house.
Why don’t you take the afternoon off. Go for a hike with Mom or drive into town for a movie or something.
I’ll sort out dinner for you. If you don’t mind a late one. ’
Rosie hesitated. ‘That sounds lovely, hon, but …’
I popped my hands on my hips in an impression of Mom. ‘I’m going to channel my inner Amelia and tell you that I’m not taking no for an answer. And you know how against my nature it is to be decisive, so you must know I mean it.’
Rosie cupped her hands around her teacup, a beautiful gold-rimmed one with a bird motif that Keiko had made for her birthday a few years back.
‘All right,’ she relented. ‘You’re right.
An afternoon off will do me good. Maybe I’ll drop in at the Bloom Family Farm.
I’ve been meaning to stroll through their Sunflower Maze, but life keeps getting in the way.
You should make sure you visit while you’re here.
It’s always a good time. Let me see if I can get your mom off her emails. ’
As Rosie disappeared down the hallway, I busied myself browsing through her formidable recipe-book collection.
Everything looked so delicious, and so …
complicated. I wished I’d spent more time honing my cooking skills instead of returning to the same few one-pan recipes over and over.
(But how could a girl say no to spiced baked eggs?)
A half-hour or so later, Mom and Rosie emerged, dressed in casual beachy attire and clutching sunhats.
‘Dressed to impress, I see.’ I fanned myself as though I were about to swoon.
‘Always,’ said Mom. The two of them posed for a selfie, which Mom then sent to Dad, adding an embarrassing number of emojis.
I was about to tease her for being a boomer, but she was frowning at her phone, which had practically exploded with email notifications.
‘You can always turn notifications off, you know,’ I reminded her.
‘But why?’ She looked at me as though I were mad.
Well, I’d tried.
‘You two go have fun,’ I said, ushering them towards the door. ‘I’ll have dinner ready and waiting when you get back.’
‘We’ll leave you the golf cart just in case,’ teased Rosie, using her magic to make the keys on the counter gleam. ‘Try not to get involved in a high-speed chase.’
I laughed at the thought. ‘I’ll do my best.’
They headed off in Rosie’s vintage car, presumably to one of the walking trails that wound around the cove, giving you endless vantage points of the ocean and the forest that ran along its edge. Not to mention front-row seats to the whisperwinds.
I continued leafing through the recipe books, getting so lost in images of poached pears and baked rainbow trout that I didn’t notice Noah come in until he perched on the counter next to where I was standing.
‘Hey, Molly,’ he said.
Startled, I let out a yelp that sent Cleo running out of the room and through the cat flap.
‘You just about gave me a heart attack!’ I said, when I’d recovered.
‘Thinking about cooking a romantic, candlelit dinner in the Italian countryside?’ Noah suggested, peering over my shoulder at the rustic scene in the cookbook I had open.
My ring sparked against my skin, and I swallowed.
I thought about how Josephine’s diary had flipped open, and I wondered what she’d wanted to share with me.
Assuming that was the case at all. It might have just been a convenient gust of wind.
But a gust of wind that didn’t say anything? Here, in Whisperwind Cove? Unlikely.
‘I’ve volunteered to cook dinner tonight,’ I told him. ‘I figured that Rosie could do with the night off. She’s been working herself to the bone.’
Noah helped himself to a cherry tomato from the bowl on the counter. ‘Ah, so that’s why she and Amelia ran off giggling down the garden path.’
‘That would be it.’
‘So, what are you thinking for the menu? Pizza delivery?’
‘Oh shush.’ I put my hands on my hips in indignation. ‘We could make pizzas. We have the wood-fired oven.’
‘We, huh?’ Noah considered. ‘Well, I do have the night free.’
‘Oh shit!’ I whacked my hand against my forehead, remembering that I’d promised Finn we’d go out tonight.
‘You have the night free, but I don’t,’ I explained. ‘I promised Finn …’
Noah waited for me to go on.
‘I’m sure he won’t mind,’ I said eventually. ‘Not if it’s for Rosie.’
Besides, we hadn’t really made plans beyond keeping the evening free. And it was Finn, after all. He was as easy-going as they came.
‘All right,’ said Noah slowly. ‘If you’re sure.’
I nodded. I’d text Finn in a minute just in case. ‘So, pizza?’
‘I think Mom has pizza on the menu for our outdoor movie night. What else is on your shortlist?’
I bit my lip. ‘It’s actually more of a longlist.’
I shoved over the stack of recipe books I’d been working through.
‘I see,’ said Noah, who was practically obscured behind the huge stack. ‘Which ones are the main contenders?’
‘Zucchini orzo? Root vegetable lasagne? What about curry? We could do a beef curry with roti canai.’ I tapped my chin, thinking about all the delicious meals we’d shared together over the years. ‘Pad Thai? Chicken pot pie? Falafel and shawarma?’
All right, so now I was just listing foods I liked.
Noah gently moved my hand away from the cookbooks and gave me a solemn look. ‘Molly, I mean this with love, but we absolutely cannot leave the menu up to you.’
I probably should’ve been offended, but all I could think about was the fact that Noah had said with love.
‘I’ve seen you trying to choose between Coke Zero and Diet Coke. You’re a disaster.’
‘But they have different tastes!’ I protested. ‘I’ll do a blindfold test to show you.’
‘Absolutely not.’ He considered, then flipped back through one of the cookbooks.
‘But I think you’re on to something with the falafel.
We could do dips, flatbreads, lots of salads and roasted chickpeas.
Mom loves light, fresh dishes, and Amelia’s obsessed with nicely arranged things on platters, so she’ll definitely be in. ’
‘Mom does love a good platter,’ I agreed.
Noah went through the cabinets, making a mental note of what ingredients we had and what we needed to stock up on.
‘We’re good on tahini, olive oil, chickpeas, paprika …’ Doors and drawers banged as he searched. ‘Okay, maybe we can do a quick run to the sundry store. We can take the golf cart. Mom left the keys.’
The keys were still, somehow, miraculously glowing in the sun.
That reminded me – Finn had offered to give me a driving lesson on the golf cart, but had never gone through with it. Maybe …
‘I can see the gears turning,’ said Noah. ‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Can I drive?’
Noah looked surprised. ‘You, behind a wheel?’
‘It’s just a little wheel, though. And we’d be going in basically a straight line along an empty road. It’s not like I’d be commuting to work on it.’
‘I hope not, because the charge wouldn’t hold long enough to get you back into the city.’ He gave me a sidelong look. ‘All right. Just so long as I have your full permission to grab the wheel in the event that … a deer runs out in front of us or something.’
‘Or something, huh.’ I grinned. ‘Very gracious.’
‘I’m entrusting you with my life, Molly.’ His expression was serious, but I could see the mirth in his eyes.
I grabbed a handful of reusable shopping bags and followed him out to the garage, where the cheerful pink golf cart waited. Along with a bunch of Charlie’s effects, I realized, as I ran my gaze over the neatly stacked and labelled boxes. Noah swallowed as he saw them, then steeled himself.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked gently.
He nodded. ‘I mean, no, not really. But I’m getting through the days. Painting is helping. Studying for law school is helping. Being around people I care about is helping.’
He didn’t mean Meryl, because Meryl wasn’t in the picture any more. He meant me.
I ducked my gaze, painfully aware of how close he was standing. My ring smarted.
‘Earth to Molly?’
I shook my head. ‘Sorry. Just … thinking.’
Noah nodded, his gaze flicking over to his dad’s boxes. ‘The memories are hard, I know. I keep trying to come to terms with the fact that things will never be the same. But it’s more easily said than done.’
More easily said than done. Wasn’t that life in a nutshell, I thought.
He blinked, as though emotionally shaking himself off. ‘Well, shall we blow this joint?’
‘Yes, but very, very slowly,’ I said as I climbed aboard the golf cart and pressed the ‘on’ button. I clicked the key over to ‘forward’, then lightly tapped the accelerator. The golf cart crawled across the polished concrete.