“Thank you, Colton,” Ella said, as she did every time she used the syrup her brother produced each year. He and Lucy had spent much of the autumn in New York but were back now for Thanksgiving and the birth of their first niece or nephew.
With the apples simmering in a pot on the stove, she prepared the pork tenderloin for baking and thought about the situation with Max and Chloe. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to break up with her partner when they were about to bring a baby into the world. Max had been forced to grow up practically overnight when Chloe got pregnant, and he’d held up admirably. But this new development had Ella worried about her baby brother.
Next she set her sights on the small white potatoes that she would fry with onions and garlic and oil. They were one of Ella’s favorite things to eat, and she couldn’t wait to share them with Gavin.
Another hour and a half or so and he would arrive. She couldn’t wait to see him. Eight hours apart felt like a lifetime, which she knew was ridiculous. But after waiting so long to be with him, every minute she spent apart from him was painful.
With all her prep work finished, Ella decided to indulge in a nice hot bath in the old claw-foot tub that was one of her favorite things about her apartment.
She spent more than an hour reading and lounging in the tub before getting out to dry off. In the cabinet she contemplated the array of scented lotions that her sisters were always giving her for one occasion or another. Charley and Hannah both loved the smelly stuff, and tonight she was thankful for their good taste as well as Bath & Body Works.
Was she in a Warm Vanilla Sugar mood or Japanese Cherry Blossom? Perhaps in honor of their upcoming vacation, it was an Oahu Coconut Sunset kind of night. No, she’d save that for the trip. In the end, she chose Carried Away because the title matched her mood.
She was most definitely carried away by Gavin Guthrie, and she hoped he would carry her away again as soon as possible. With that in mind, she chose a slinky black nightgown with a matching thong and covered it with a red silk robe. The other thing her sisters loved beyond all reason was lingerie. She’d never cared enough about any man to wear for them the things they bought her. She was glad now that she’d saved them for Gavin. Her body tingled in anticipation.
After lighting her favorite sage candle, she went into the kitchen to check on dinner. The apples were soft and ready to be mashed. In her family there were two schools of thought when it came to applesauce. Some preferred the puréed version. Ella was a fan of the chunkier version. So rather than putting the apples in the food processor, she smashed them with a potato masher and put them in the refrigerator to cool.
The potatoes were nicely browned and smelled so good she nearly drooled in anticipation. A peek into the oven revealed that the meat was almost done, too. She turned the temperature down to keep it warm.
Ella poured a glass of chardonnay and took it into the living room. She lit the fire and sat on the sofa staring into the flames, wondering how much longer she had to wait until he’d arrive.
By seven, she was beginning to worry. She called his home number from memory—yes, she’d memorized it and wasn’t proud of that—but he didn’t answer, so she looked up the number to his office in the phone book. No answer there either.
Ella bit her thumbnail as a nagging worry began to assail her. What if one of the dark moods had come on him today and he was off doing something self-destructive? Was he in a bar somewhere? Was he spoiling for a fight? She poured another glass of wine and tried to force herself to relax, to not think the worst. But his recent track record made that a difficult challenge.
At eight o’clock she was seriously considering calling his parents to get his cell number when she remembered the ICE call. She ran for the portable phone and scrolled through the incoming numbers. When she saw the one from the other night, she pressed the call button.
Gavin answered on the third ring. “Ella?” The connection was crackling and fading in and out. “. . . my message?”
“What? You’re cutting out.”