After straightening the apartment back to its original state, I went to the refrigerator to examine the ingredients. Whatever I made, I needed a lot of it. I wondered if Jim’s and Emmitt’s appetites had to do with what they were.
For dinners with Blake, he’d always provided me with a strict menu along with the required quantities, expecting me to cook it all. The largess made more sense now as did his pickiness. I’d learned to hone my cooking skills after he’d criticized my first few attempts. He’d smelled the hint of scorch on a batch of biscuits even though I’d thrown away the burnt ones.
I opened the freezer and pulled out the five-pound package of ground beef to start it defrosting.
“Can I help?” Emmitt asked from the door.
My stomach flipped with joy at the sound of his voice. I glanced at him. He casually leaned against the wall just inside the door, watching me with a wary, yet hopeful, gaze.
My heart hammered, and I frowned. It was easier dealing with Jim because I had no particular reaction to him. Emmitt divided me. He pulled me in too close without even trying and that scared me as much as it thrilled me. Avoiding him would be safer. At least, until I sorted out my reactions to him and gave the vision of us more thought. It hadn’t exactly enforced his claim that he just wanted to be friends.
As I took a breath to politely decline, he held up a bottle that he’d held half-hidden behind his leg.
“I also brought up wine. Jim said you needed it.”
“One glass,” Nana called loudly up the stairs.
Emmitt grinned at me and winked. His boyish smile and dimple disarmed me, and I found myself nodding. He didn’t hesitate. He left the door open and joined me in the kitchen. Darn it! Why had I nodded?
He found the biggest glass in the cupboard and filled it to the top with wine.
“You don’t have to drink any,” he said when he caught my look.
I picked up the glass and took a large swallow. It wasn’t my first glass of wine. Blake had insisted on wine at the table and me drinking it. I didn’t mind the taste or the mellow feeling that followed after a few sips. But I knew better than to drink the whole thing. I couldn’t afford the resulting dull senses.
The microwave beeped. I turned the meat, removed the thawed pieces, and put them into a large bowl. Then, I washed my hands and tossed Emmitt an onion with a request to chop it.
We worked together to assemble meatloaf. Eggs, oats, spices, ketchup, onion, and brown sugar crowded in the bowl along with a growing pile of meat. Emmitt mixed while I dug out a pan.
Each time I came back to the counter, I took another sip. The wine did its job, and I began to relax. I realized just how much when I opened my mouth to ask for pepper and said something else entirely.
“He locked them in their room when he got tired of them.” I froze and stared at my hands. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said. Obviously, I still felt guilty about my own thoughts in regard to locking Aden in a room.
The water ran behind me briefly. Then he touched my shoulder, turning me toward him. Standing a foot apart, I tilted my head a bit to meet his eyes. He didn’t look at me with pity or any other emotion I could name. But something in his face, understanding maybe, caused a dam to break.
“My mom died just after Aden was born. My stepfather, their dad, died two days before I saw you at that diner. I’m all my brothers have. I won’t let them be locked in a room again.”
He didn’t touch me, just stood close, listening.
“David will never get the chance,” he promised. Determination laced his voice, and his eyes took on a steely glint.
Huh? David? As I frowned at him, I realized I’d never spoken about Blake, and a spark of hope that he really had nothing to do with Blake surfaced again. I studied him and tried to read the truth from his face. I couldn’t see truth or lie, but I saw a flash of something else as his eyes met mine. Tenderness.
“I’m not afraid of David.” I turned away, poured the rest of my wine into the sink, then put the meatloaf in the oven.
Emmitt said nothing.
I dug out a bag of potatoes and started peeling. He stayed by my side and worked through the pile with me. It hurt to be so close to him. My stomach wouldn’t settle down. But I didn’t move away.
I washed dishes in the silence of the apartment and exhaled a sigh. Outside, the boys cried encouragement to Jim and Emmitt.