Chapter 6 Mia #2
Cheered by her mother’s faith in her cooking at least, if not her love life, Mia rummages through the fridge, formulating a plan.
Penny edges in beside her and pulls out a bottle of Chardonnay.
When Mia looks at her sideways, Penny just shrugs, thin shoulders lifting delicately.
‘What? It’s Christmas. There’s no unacceptable time to start drinking. ’
Maybe her mother has a point. Maybe Mia should drink a little too. The wine might help with how glum she’s been feeling. ‘Pour me a glass too then, please, Mum?’
Penny makes a delighted little sound and turns to locate the wine glasses. Mia puts her choices on the counter and finds a cutting board and knife.
‘Here you go, dearie.’ Penny sets the full glass beside Mia’s workstation.
‘Thanks.’ Mia cuts the butternut squash in half and begins peeling it.
She’s feeling slightly off-kilter and she hasn’t even started drinking yet.
Maybe it’s the slight fuzziness of the residual travel fatigue, but meeting John this morning is feeling more and more surreal.
Did all of that really happen? Was there any possibility that she had some kind of bizarre, stress-induced hallucination?
‘Mum, was there ever a gardener who worked here on the property?’
Penny sips her wine, eyes squinting as she thinks. ‘Mmm, yes. But that was years ago, I think. He worked for Grandpa Morris and Grandma Joan.’
‘But they lived in London,’ Mia objects.
‘Once you were born, they did. They had to move for my father’s job.
There was nothing out here for them.’ Penny sighs.
‘My mother loved coming out here for the holidays, though. In fact, that’s how we know Mabel’s family!
Mum would ring them up and let them know we were all coming down for Christmas.
Mabel’s parents would get the house ready.
They’d air everything out and stock the fridge and such.
Then the rest of the time all the furniture was draped in sheets and the rooms shut up like someone had died.
’ She shivers. ‘I always found that a bit creepy, as a child.’
‘What about when we lived here?’
Penny shakes her head. ‘No, there was no staff when we lived here. Just us and Aunt Gertie. Golly, those were lovely years. You and Charlie used to just run amok, and I never had to worry. The worst that could happen to you was a broken bone or two. Do you remember when you caught that enormous bullfrog? You were convinced it was an enchanted Prince Charming, and I was so afraid you were going to catch syphilis or something.’
‘I don’t think you can catch syphilis from frogs, Mum.’
Penny sips her wine as she waves a hand to dismiss Mia’s objection.
Mia mulls things over as she adds the chopped squash to a baking sheet and drizzles it in oil.
So, there was a gardener who worked here in the nineties.
She pops the sheet in the oven and starts slicing up a few pieces of thick bacon while a pan warms on the stove.
‘So how long did the gardener work here?’
Penny shrugs. ‘I don’t remember. I don’t think I interacted with him much. I’d have to look and see if Mum left any records – there might be a photo or two of him. When they did their Christmas parties, they always invited all the staff.’
‘Who else did Gran and Grandpa employ?’ The pan is warm, so Mia tosses the bacon into it and lets it crisp up, relishing the sizzle of the fat in the heat and the enticing smells curling up towards her nose.
Penny takes another sip of her wine while she thinks.
‘Hmm. There was a cook too. Catherine I think was her name. She always said to just call her Cook so it’s hard to remember.
She cooked like you, Mia. All she had to do was look at whatever ingredients were available, and she would know exactly what she wanted to make. What are you making, by the way?’
‘A squash and pear soup. With a little spice, I’m thinking.’
‘And not too much salt,’ Penny repeats.
‘Yes, Mum,’ says Mia patiently. The bacon sizzles away and Mia adds in sliced pears, onion and a few minced cloves of garlic. Penny sighs appreciatively at the smells emanating from the stove, content to drink her wine and make light conversation as Mia begins to carefully season the soup base.
An hour later, the soup has nearly come together.
Martin wanders into the kitchen, sniffing like a bloodhound.
‘Well, with smells like that coming from the kitchen, our girl must be home.’ He leans in for a kiss on Mia’s cheek and then reaches over to tweak Penny on the nose.
Penny squeaks in protest and Mia turns back to the stove to hide her smile.
For as long as she can remember, her dad has done that move, and her mum has pretended to be outraged.
‘Mum, do we have any bread to serve with this soup?’
Penny shakes her head regretfully. ‘I meant to grab some at the shop when I was in town but I forgot.’
Martin leans his elbows against the counter. ‘Well, we can just send the boys for a few loaves when they come in. They should be just about done with the wood by now.’
As if summoned by his words, Charlie and Sam tumble in through the back door, laughing and stomping the snow from their feet as they carry armfuls of wood into the living and dining rooms. On their way back outside, they spill into the kitchen, while Charlie continues to protest.
‘It was not cheating!’
‘It was too, Charlie Robinson, and you know it.’
‘Not at all. Mr Kittredge gave me the answer sheet by mistake. I thought I’d just caught a lucky break, that’s all.’
Sam shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. ‘Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Charlie.’ His head swivels suddenly, like he just picked up a scent – literally. ‘Whoa, what smells so good?’
‘Mia is cooking us all lunch,’ Penny informs him from her perch at the island. She’s started her second glass of wine, and her spirits are high.
‘Oh, are you making the little pigs in blankets that I love?’ Charlie pleads, striding through the kitchen to stand beside Mia. ‘Nah. It’s just soup. Bummer.’
‘Well, you can just not have any then,’ Mia retorts.
She glances over at Sam, whose cheeks are flushed from the cold.
His eyes are sparkling. He grins at her, then returns to his argument with Charlie.
Their bickering fills the kitchen as Mia stirs the soup, darting little glances at Sam.
His coat is sprinkled with wood shavings, and there are melting snowflakes in his hair.
He’s shaved since she saw him first thing this morning, and she has to force her eyes away from his incredible jawline.
She should describe to John how annoying Sam’s good looks are …
… if John is real. Maybe she fell asleep in the chair at the cottage and dreamed it all up.
Then again, how did her luggage get there?
She certainly didn’t lug it through the snow again.
She quickly scans around her. If that did really happen, is John wafting around the big house somewhere?
Will she be able to pretend he’s not there if he appears suddenly?
Because she really doesn’t want to do something embarrassing like scream … especially in front of Sam.
‘So, Sam,’ Penny begins. ‘It’s so nice having you here with us this week.’
‘Yeah, we needed some free manual labour,’ Charlie teases. ‘Come on, Sam. Another trip or two will fill up all the wood boxes.’ He tugs Sam towards the door, calling over his shoulder, ‘You all should have seen Sam chopping wood out there. Took to it like a natural. He’s a regular lumberjack.’
The image of Sam wielding a heavy axe, logs splitting apart from the sheer force of his swing, rises up in Mia’s mind.
Had he set aside his heavy coat while he chopped?
Rolled up his sleeves? Sam has great forearms. Must be all that tennis playing.
Had he spread his legs, bracing them against the snowy ground so that he could lean into every swing …
A little tingle of desire skitters down her spine, and her eyes widen in alarm.
No. Time to slam the door on that mental picture.
She will focus solely on cooking. Pulling out her phone, she types a quick text to Lucy to distract herself.
You’ll never believe who’s staying for Christmas …
Lucy’s reply comes almost instantaneously. Who??? Wait, did James surprise you up there?
Mia snorts. As if. No, my idiot brother invited Sam Williams.
THE Sam Williams? The one who deserves to be hogtied and slowly roasted over an open flame?
The very same.
Oh Mia! I’m sorry. That’s a tough break.
As the boys head back outside, Penny gently but firmly nudges Mia. ‘Put your phone away, dear, before you burn the soup.’
Disgruntled, Mia complies, deciding it’s not worth the argument.
Penny sighs. ‘I can’t believe Sam’s family made plans that didn’t include him.
Can you even imagine? When Charlie told me it just broke my heart.
But Sam’s parents have always been like that.
Too absorbed in their own lives to pay much attention to their children. ’
‘His dad was always the sort to prefer a good book over a human interaction,’ Martin adds. Mia smiles to herself. Her dad loves a good snark session. She has a theory that she actually inherited most of her sarcastic wit from her father. He’s just surprisingly good at keeping it under wraps.
Penny and Martin continue talking about the Williamses as Mia moves around the kitchen, cleaning up her mess and rinsing dishes before adding them to the dishwasher.
When Charlie and Sam come back in, their wood-stocking mission completed, the kitchen is more under control and Mia is feeling less rattled by their presence.
‘Tell us what you’re up to these days, Sam,’ Penny coaxes. Sam and Charlie have both collapsed into the breakfast nook, laughing at how out of breath they are.