Chapter 23
Aurelia had started by writing a few sentences, but soon enough she’d filled pages and pages of her notebook.
She’d been so swept away by her writing that she thought her watch was broken when she looked down to see that it was a quarter past six.
She jolted up, muscles cramped from sitting for so long, and dashed to feed Fezz, change into something presentable, and eat enough to tide her over in case David’s promised beef stew turned out to be inedible.
When she arrived at their flat just after seven o’clock, James greeted her at the door.
He had a few inches on Aurelia but was only slightly taller than David and had auburn hair with a few freckles across his nose and cheeks.
She hugged him in between taking off her coat and shoes, so it took her a minute to notice that he was carefully avoiding eye contact.
Putting a hand to his arm, she asked, “Everything alright?”
“Yes, yup.” He nodded quickly.
Aurelia wasn’t convinced and was about to ask him again when he offered her the glass of wine he’d been holding.
“You’ll need this,” he said, leading her toward the kitchen while still avoiding eye contact. “David’s in there mumbling about the humors being out of balance.”
“If I hear him mention ‘black bile’ again, I’m going home,” Aurelia declared, pretending to turn back for the door.
“Don’t you dare!” James laughed, visibly relaxing. “We’ve got to stick together.”
With the glass of wine in hand, Aurelia took a large sip and then followed James through the hallway which, like much of the flat, was decorated with items David had brought back from his many visits to Kenya, where most of his extended family still lived.
James ushered Aurelia into the kitchen, then backed away dramatically, true to his word not to interfere in David’s cookery. The kitchen was blessedly filled with the lovely scent of sautéing onions, mushrooms, and garlic.
“It smells amazing in here,” Aurelia said as she pulled out a stool from the kitchen island.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” David said threateningly as he brandished a wooden spoon at her. “Is that what you’re wearing?” he added, staring her up and down.
“Yes, clearly it is,” she said, tugging self-consciously at her top before pulling a face at him. “Were you expecting me to put on my medieval finest for ye olde beef stew?”
“Very funny,” he said dismissively, though she caught him eyeing her again. “So, why’s Antonia bothering you?”
“She thinks I’m housebound.”
“Are you?”
“Not really. I mean, maybe a little. I’ve just been very… engaged in what’s happening in the shop these days.”
“And what’s happening in the shop these days?”
Aurelia considered what she could share from the past week—toting up another lie she’d have to tell a friend.
“Hmm… Well, I’ve been making some overdue changes,” she said, thinking back to her conversation with Mark and the improvements she’d made. “It’s sort of nice to finally feel like it’s mine, not just like I’m watching over it for Aunt Marigold.”
Her face fell and she was about to correct herself when David spoke up.
“I know. You’d rather it was still Marigold’s.” He reached across the counter and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. It’s yours now and it’s good that you’re starting to feel more at home there.”
Anxious not to be led into a discussion where she might make a mistake and share something about what had been happening in the shop after hours, she asked David what he was making for dinner.
He launched into an explanation of the history of the recipe, making her smile as she imagined him standing in front of his students, enthusiastically describing some pivotal moment in history.
She was so distracted she didn’t fully register that the doorbell had rung, especially since David chose that moment to change the subject.
“I really want you to give Oliver another try.”
“David,” she said, shaking her head in confusion at the shift in topic from historic recipes to Oliver. “Go back to stirring. We weren’t talking about him.”
“No, but we’re talking about him now.” David lowered his voice as he continued. “I think you two would really hit it off if you gave him another chance.”
Just like with Antonia, she was too humiliated to tell him about Oliver’s appearance at the shop—to fill him in on how Oliver had visited just to let her know that he had zero feelings for her whatsoever.
But maybe if she was more firm than usual, she thought, David might get the message and stop his meddling.
“Please accept the fact that Oliver and I are never going to happen and stop pushing,” she insisted, her voice rising as she tried for a very stern tone.
David’s eyes flew to the doorway and back to Aurelia, widening dramatically before he said, “Oliver, welcome! Come in, let me get you a glass of wine.”
Aurelia’s back stiffened and she froze. The doorbell, she remembered suddenly. Oh, please tell me that wasn’t actually Oliver arriving. That thought was quickly followed by, How loud was I just now?
With a sinking heart, she knew she’d been loud enough for her voice to carry down the hall.
She was afraid to turn around and confirm that Oliver was there, that he’d just heard every word she’d said and how she’d said it.
And what had she said, exactly? It was only seconds ago, but she barely remembered, though she was certain it had been something harsh since she’d wanted to discourage David.
She winced and slowly turned to see that, yes, Oliver was standing just inside the kitchen, with James next to him and David handing him a glass of wine.
Oliver took a quick sip and Aurelia stood, preparing to apologize.
“It looks like they’ve tricked us both into another date,” he said, giving her a slow smile. “But I hear David’s a good cook, so at least we’ll get a meal out of it this time.”
Aurelia could have kissed him for trying to diffuse the awkward situation, then felt herself beginning to blush at the thought.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand resting over her heart. “David is… relentless? Persistent? Annoying?” she offered.
David moved back to the stove and pulled a face that only she could see before waving his spoon again.
“Go off to the living room and drink your wine. Dinner should be ready soon and I’ll get it done faster without you in here distracting me.”
Aurelia inhaled, tamping down her annoyance at being sent away with Oliver. Still, she obeyed, knowing she had to make up for her outburst. James led the way down the hall, making theirs an odd little parade of awkward adults bearing wine glasses.