“Or, I can give you more information. What do you want to know about him, Shannon? I’m great at interrogating,” Traci teased.
Shannon knew she was turning bright red. “I appreciate that, but I’ll take a pass. If I need any more information I’ll ask him at our next class. I’ll ask him about Jennifer making us a meal, too.”
Kimber shared a smile with Traci. “Can’t wait to hear about what you learn, girl. I have a feeling your conversations aren’t going to center on speeders and breaking and entering.”
Boy, she hoped not. “Let’s eat before Traci gets hangry.”
“Or hangrier,” Traci murmured.
That was all they needed to hear before they got busy and the three of them started working side by side in the old-fashioned, small kitchen.
When Traci put on some music, they all started singing an old Maroon Five favorite together.
And they realized that they didn’t need much else.
CHAPTER 15
“Life is like dancing. If we have a big floor, many people will dance. Some will get angry when the rhythm changes. But life is changing all the time.”
—Don Miguel Ruiz
Three Days Later
Jennifer clicked end on her cell phone, set it on her kitchen counter, and then stared at the now blank screen.
What had just happened?
She’d been so surprised when Dylan had asked if he could give Shannon her phone number that she’d given permission without wondering too much about the reason behind it.
She’d been almost as surprised to actually get that phone call.
But the quick conversation that had ensued had completely taken her by surprise. Shannon had been all business, talking about how she and her sisters couldn’t cook, how they couldn’t live much longer on sandwiches, takeout and omelets. Then she’d gone into some kind of convoluted explanation about modeling, casseroles, and Traci’s getting hangry.
Jennifer had found herself agreeing to bring over a meal that evening. In six hours.
Luckily, she already had a full pantry, so it would be easy enough to make a poppy seed chicken casserole, rice, and a lemon meringue pie for dessert. And then deliver it.
Her hands started shaking. Was she even ready for this?
What if she wasn’t?
Then those girls would be wondering where their food was and Dylan would be forced to deal with the consequences, since both his partner and his dancing instructor were going to be affected.
In a panic, she dialed Dylan’s number. He answered immediately.
“Jen, you okay?”
As it had so many times before, her brother’s brusque, matter-of-fact tone calmed her down. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” She heard him rustle some papers around. He was at his desk. “What’s going on?”
“Shannon Murphy just gave me a call.”
“She did? Hmm. What did she have to say?”
The warmth in his voice told her that she was the only one surprised. “After telling me all about how neither she nor her sisters could make much of anything that was edible, she asked me to make them dinner tonight. For money.” She took a deep breath. “I told her I would.”
“Really? Hey, Jen, that’s great.”
She could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I think I said I would do it before I even realized what I was doing,” she admitted.
“You’re a great cook. Why do you sound so nervous?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” But part of her couldn’t help but dwell on the man she’d seen by her car at the bookstore. What if she saw him again? What if he had been one of the men who’d attacked her?
She was almost tempted to ask Dylan to double-check that they were still incarcerated, but all that would do was make him worry about her yet again.
Almost worse would be if she did ask, he did double-check, and then discovered that they were still very much locked away. Then she would have to come to terms with the fact that her fears were causing her to see problems lurking in every corner.
After another few seconds had passed, she heard him click his pen a couple of times. “Do you want me to get you out of it, Jen?” he asked slowly. “Is that why you called?”
“No,” she replied quickly. That was Dylan. Always ready to save her. Worse, she knew she’d probably started to rely on him saving her, too. Far too much. “I’m going to do it. It’s just a big step, you know?” Yes, that was better. Far better for him to think that she just needed encouragement.
“It’s a big step, but it’s the right one. I promise.” His voice warmed. “Jennifer, I promise. No one in Bridgeport, Ohio, cooks better than you. And from what Traci tells me, those ladies are desperate for your help. They’re going to love everything.”
Though she knew he was trying hard to boost her confidence, there was probably a bit of truth to it. “Shannon did say that they could barely heat up pizza without burning it.”
“It’s amazing that they haven’t starved,” he joked. “So, what are you going to make?”
“Nothing special.”
After relaying the menu, he moaned. “I hope you’re going to make some for us, too.”
“Maybe, but don’t you have your class tonight?” The last time he’d had a dance class he’d stayed downtown and gotten dinner at Paxton’s before heading over to his class.
“I do. Hey, how about I help you bring everything over? I could stop by the house and help you carry everything to the car.”
She stopped herself just as she was about to accept. “Thanks, but I’ve got this.”
“Sure?”
“I think so.” She definitely needed to be able to handle this. “Thanks for picking up. I guess I just needed someone to talk this over with. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you over there tonight.”
Dylan didn’t say anything for a moment, then said at last, “I’m proud of you, Jen. I know you can do this.”
“Thanks.” When she hung up the phone again, she paced for a few moments, then started pulling out flour, shortening, lemons, and about another two dozen ingredients. Then she put on some music and her favorite apron and got to work. Right now, all she had to do was cook. If there was anything that she knew how to do, it was that.
When she started measuring, she repeated her brother’s words over and over. “I can do this.”