Olivia’s lips tightened.
“No need to do that,” Uncle Freddy said, his voice exaggeratedly loud. “Olivia is going to go work in a dress shop.”
“No!” Letty yelled. “Who’ll make our shields?”
When Ace’s lower lip began to quiver, Olivia was reminded of what the child was about to face. He knew his mother was very ill and—
Olivia’s face looked stormy. She was not a cook. She was a woman with a great career ahead of her. She wasn’t one of those earth mothers who naturally enveloped children. She wasn’t—
She let out her breath and glared at Uncle Freddy. “You’re going to pay someone else to clean this house. I’m not going to do it. And there’s too much laundry for me to do.” She turned to Mr. Gates. “You are in charge of errands.”
The two old men nodded. A bargain had been struck. “What do we do, Livie?” Ace asked.
“Eggs. And no more rolling them down a ramp. And you’re going to help me clean up that garden.”
“And get tiger plants?” Ace asked.
It took her a moment to figure that one out. Zucchini equals zoo equals tiger. “Right. Tiger plants.” She went to the back door. “The four of you can clean this up. I have to go see Nina.”
“My mom?” Letty looked worried. “I didn’t break that lamp. It just fell. I was a million feet away from it. In the garage.”
Olivia shook her head. “I’ll deal with that later. Your mother has a cookbook I want to borrow.” She looked at the men. “Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” She left the house.
“What’s that?” Letty asked.
“Heaven,” Mr. Gates said. “Pure heaven on earth. Who wants some banana pudding?”
“Boeuf Bourguignon,” Uncle Freddy whispered as though it was a sacred phrase. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Paris?”
Mr. Gates had heard the story dozens of times, but he said no, that he’d missed that one.
Each of them was smiling as they finished their second lunch and listened to Uncle Freddy’s story of a meal he’d had in Paris when he was a young man. They were all glad Livie was staying. For all that she complained and was often grumpy, there was something about the way she shot out orders that gave life to all of them. But best of all, she made things happen.
Chapter Fifteen
“Then what?” Kathy asked. “You can’t stop there.”
Elise leaned forward. “Why was he running around in so little clothing?”
Olivia stood up. “That is a whole other story. Anyone want some more wine? How about ice cream?”
The women followed her into the kitchen.
“You said Kit has lived all over the world and now he’s in government service,” Kathy said. “My guess is that’s the reason he was there. He was planning to go on his first mission, wasn’t he?”
“You’re right,” Olivia said, “but he would have died before telling anyone that. Country was first to him. I just thought he was an exhibitionist. And a predator and a—” She waved her hand. “Everything bad.”
“You hated him but were fascinated by him,” Kathy said.
Olivia scooped ice cream into bowls. “That’s exactly what I was. And after I heard him speak, I was even more angry.”
Kathy and Elise waited for her to continue.
“You ever hear a voice that sent chills down your spine? Made your hair stand on end? Revved up your heart so it was pounding?” Olivia asked.
Elise grimaced. “Does my dad yelling at me when I was six and broke a Tiffany vase count?”
“Definitely not.” Olivia turned to Kathy.
“Don’t look at me! Ray’s voice makes me wonder what else he wants me to do.”
Olivia paused as she thought about what Kathy had said. According to Ray, his wife lived for him. But Kathy complained about the lack of passion. “Did Ray—?”
“Go on with your story,” Elise said. “You were borrowing a cookbook and making shields.”
“Not just ‘a cookbook,’” Kathy said. “The cookbook.”
“Right,” Olivia said. “Me, who didn’t know how to make a meat loaf, was saying I was going to cook French cuisine. Of course, I wasn’t really thinking about doing that. I was just so angry at the smirks of those old men that I would have said anything to make them shut up.
“And him! That boy! I was already sick of hearing how fabulous he was. I just wanted to be better than he was. At anything.”
“So what did you do?” Kathy asked.
“Nearly killed myself—and him.” Olivia gave a little laugh. “Kit and I had three weeks of a competition that should go down in history as the roughest, toughest...” She grinned. “The very stupidest war there ever was.”
“Okay,” Elise said, “start at the beginning. Did the cookbook or the magnolia tree come first?”
Olivia took a bite of mocha ice cream. “First came the shields. I am embarrassed to admit that in the time I’d been there I’d been so angry that I’d ignored the children. But back then you just shooed kids outside and let them entertain themselves. Parents didn’t need to supervise every second of their kids’ lives.”
“But you’d seen Kit playing with them,” Kathy said.
“Yes, and I was quite jealous. Anyway, I took a big cardboard box, some shears, string, tape, and foil out under the tree. The kids trailed behind me like baby ducks. It didn’t occur to me that I was doing everything outside so that worthless boy could see what I was doing.”
She paused. “It took me a couple of hours to make the two worst shields ever created. They were flimsy and the string handles I taped on the back came off, and the foil tore. The kids were nice about it, but they knew the shields were awful.”
“What did Kit do?” Kathy had a hint of disgust in her voice. “If it had been Ray, he would have shown up with some hand-crafted masterpiece just so he could win.”
“That’s sort of what happened.” Olivia was looking at Kathy in speculation. “I was trying to tape some tree branches onto the back of the shields to make them stronger, when he pulled up on the tractor.”
“The modern equivalent of the charging horse,” Elise said. “My personal fantasy.”
“I didn’t know it but that morning the children had asked him to make shields for them. He’d already glued up three sheets of heavy cardboard. After lunch, he used the old band saw to cut out shield shapes.”
“Is that fair? You didn’t have any tools,” Kathy said.
“That’s what I thought too. On the back he’d bolted two wooden handles, but vertical. Beside them he’d used shoelaces to tie on wide pieces of leather.”
“Ah.” Kathy nodded. “So they could slip their forearms through.”
“Yes,” Olivia said. “They were truly magnificent shields and the children were awed by them—and by Kit. They flung themselves at him and he held both of them.” Olivia shook her head. “I was so jealous! My wimpy shields were on the ground, bent and already coming apart, while his were strong and—” She waved her hand.
“What did Kit say?” Elise asked.
“Nothing. The kids were hanging off of him and he looked at me as though he expected me to praise him. Thank him. But I wanted to smash him on the head with the shields. Or run the tractor over him. Instead, I said, ‘Go away.’”
She looked at Kathy and Elise, who were waiting for her to go on. “Kit put the children down and said, ‘As you wish,’ then climbed back up on the tractor and drove away.”
“Like in The Princess Bride,” Elise said with a sigh.
“Only Kit said it before that movie came out.”
“And his voice gave you chills,” Elise said.
“How does the voice of your young gardening Adonis affect you?” Olivia asked.
“Like hot champagne pouring over me,” Elise said, sighing. “He sounds even better in Spanish.”
Olivia smiled. “Like when Kit speaks Arabic! But that first time, Kit’s deep, gravelly voice sent an electrical charge through me.”
“And that made you even more angry,” Kathy said.
“Very much so. I genuinely and truly hated that worthless boy.”