Page 23 of Love Walked In

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mari

I winced at the sight of my daisies in a gray vase in the middle of the black dining room table. They had looked so cheerful in the grocery store, but now they looked as garish as a flamingo on the tundra.

Had my blush been as pink when Leo had said how joyful I made everything? I was pretty sure it had. It definitely was when he’d talked about Mog, how he wanted this prickly little animal to feel safe with him, and for a split second I’d wished he were talking about me.

Steadiness was an illusion, I knew that. People changed their minds from second to second, strung you along, left with no warning.

But Leo was real, and solid, and he didn’t say things he didn’t mean. At least, I didn’t think he did.

“I like the flowers,” Judith said kindly from her seat next to me. “So bright.”

“So do I,” Leo’s sister Sophie said immediately. “I wanted to paint my side of our bedroom hot pink, but Mum said no.”

Her sister, Gabi, chimed in with a shy grin. “And I wanted to do my side aqua green, so it would be like Miami colors.”

“You can paint your rooms whatever color you like when you live in your own house, my loves,” Leo’s mother, Elaine, said, her smile harried.

Leo leaned over to Sophie. “When you do, I’ll come help.”

I smiled back at the Rosses weakly. I would have felt better about the color explosion if all the Ross family members weren’t also wearing black, though Judith had at least wrapped a black-and-white polka-dot scarf around her neck.

“Do you like the Riesling, Mari?” Elaine asked. She was slender, with Leo’s almond-shaped eyes and pointed face, her ash-blond hair contrasting with her almost-black brows. “You must be used to good wine where you come from.”

“This is nice, thank you,” I lied politely. I could tell it was good wine, but it was the kind of minerally white that tasted like sucking on a chunk of granite. What did people have against wine that tasted like fruit?

Mr. Ross’s chair sat at the table, empty.

I didn’t know how he could resist the smells coming from the dishes on the table.

There was a side of salmon topped with frizzled onions and lots of capers and dill, a bowlful of rice pilaf glistening with butter, a huge plate of cut-up raw vegetables with what looked like a yogurt and herb dip, a golden loaf of challah dotted with black and white sesame seeds.

“Shall we eat while it’s hot?” Judith asked Elaine.

“David knows dinner is ready,” Elaine said tightly. “He’ll come before too long. You know how he is when local elections are so soon.”

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps. “Dinner! Why didn’t you call me?” David said briskly as he came into the room.

Judith rolled her eyes at me.

“Ooh, salmon. Looks like we’re ringing the changes here.” David sat down at the head of the table. “What happened to the Shabbos chicken, my love?”

“Our guest doesn’t eat meat, Leo told me. I took it as an opportunity to try out some new dishes.” She nodded to me. “I also made special custard with oat milk to have with pudding.”

I blinked at Leo. I hadn’t said explicitly that I was lactose intolerant, but he’d brought me coffee at the store enough times that he could make an educated guess. “Thank you for thinking of me. I could have just skipped the custard.”

Leo looked at me in horror. “No one should ever have to miss custard.”

I cracked up a little at how adamant he was. It was a welcome break from Elaine’s polite smiles.

“So, are you two pulling the shop back from the brink of death?” David said, the cheerfulness in his voice undercut with something sour.

Leo’s hand was going to have marks on it from how tightly he was gripping his knife. “Yes. Mari’s doing a wonderful job. Her help was just what we needed.”

It was hard to bask in the compliment when it was actually a barb aimed at someone else.

Elaine’s eyes darted between her husband and son, and some instinct I didn’t know I had made me want to smooth those sharp edges.

“We don’t have to talk about work here. I’m just happy to eat a nice meal.

I’ve been eating a lot of canned soup and microwave meals in the attic, and this all smells heavenly.

Where did you get the recipe for the salmon, Mrs. Ross? ”

Leo’s eyebrows went sky-high at my rapid-fire speech, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh, goodness, please call me Elaine,” she said. “And it’s an American recipe, actually.”

“Elaine’s a brilliant cook,” David said, and it was the first time I’d seen him smile. “You should see her collection of cookbooks. I had someone build floor-to-ceiling bookcases when we redid the kitchen, and she filled them in just a few months.”

Elaine chuckled. “I can’t help myself. They keep publishing new ones all the time, and I get so excited at the prospect of trying something new.”

I asked her about her favorite writers, and we settled into bookish conversation, swapping recommendations. I promised to order Crying In H Mart for her, and to hunt down a copy of Good Things by Jane Grigson for myself.

As I made a note on my phone, she looked over at where Leo was focused on his meal. “I should make this salmon again, Leo. You’ve almost finished your plate.”

He froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Leave him alone, Elaine,” David said wearily.

“I was just noticing he was enjoying the food, nothing more.”

David raised his eyebrows. “Were you?”

Understandably, Leo put his full fork down. Who’d want to eat when everyone was looking at him like he was behind bars in a zoo?

“Leo showed me around the Ralston Gallery,” I piped up. “You guys are so lucky to have such amazing art on your doorstep.”

I almost sighed with relief when Judith’s mouth twitched. “Did he now? It used to be his and Alexander’s favorite place to go. Alexander would say he practically had to carry Leo out of there. If he could, he would have stayed all day to draw.”

I nodded eagerly. “I know, I saw him sketching.”

Now Elaine put her fork down. “You saw ?”

I blinked at her surprise, but now Sophie and Gabi sat up in their seats. “If you’re doing art properly again, can we have more stuff for our walls?” Gabi asked Leo.

Leo reached for his napkin and wiped his mouth, even though as far as I could tell there hadn’t been any mess. “Of course you can,” he finally said, smiling shyly. “What would you like?”

As Gabi and Sophie talked over each other, making requests for flowers and animals and landscapes, Elaine bustled around the table clearing dishes while David disappeared to make another work call. Judith reached over and squeezed my hand.

“I’m so glad you joined us,” she said. “Leo’s not asked anyone to dinner in a long time. I hope you can come again before you return to America.”

Her last words felt like someone had turned on a harsh light in the cozy room. I was leaving in less than two months. This wasn’t my family. It couldn’t be mine. I needed to stop drinking from this well. “We’ll see. I think we’ll be pretty busy as we get closer to the festival.”

Judith’s forehead wrinkled. “I understand. I know you two are working so hard.”

I nodded at her words, ignoring the sadness in her tone. “We are. Ooh, that looks great, Elaine.” I speed-ate a bowl of the deliciously tart rhubarb crumble she served me, then stood up from the table and made noises about a long week, an early night.

But once I’d put my parka and shoes on, Elaine opened the door to what looked like an ice monsoon, rain and snow mushed together. “Oh no. We can’t possibly let you walk to the station in that. The sleet’s practically horizontal.”

Leo squinted at his phone. “There’s a yellow warning until three A.M .”

“You should stay with me downstairs overnight,” Judith said warmly, putting her hand on my arm. “It’s filthy out there. You can sleep on my sofa bed.”

I couldn’t bear to stay in this place a second longer than I had to. It made me want too much. “No, thank you. I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Leo said.

I ignored the warm feeling in my chest from his kind expression and shook my head. “It’s really hard for me to sleep in a new place. I’ll be a lot happier in my own bed.”

“Then we’ll call you a taxi,” he said firmly.

Judith nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“But that’s hella expensive,” I interrupted.

“We’re your hosts, we’ll pay,” she replied, then said more quietly, “I know we’re struggling, Mari, but we’re not so desperate as that.”

How did I explain that it wasn’t about the money, that I couldn’t handle that kind of generosity? But it was like speaking a foreign language to them.

Leo’s mouth turned down. “The taxi’s website says it’ll be at least an hour’s wait.”

Uber would probably be on surge pricing, if a car would show up in the first place. “I’m just going to go to the station,” I said finally. “It’s not that bad.”

The last word was punctuated by the sleet suddenly picking up, sounding like hundreds of water balloons exploding.

Judith looked back and forth between Leo and me, and I could have sworn I saw the tiniest smile on her lips. “We can’t let you go alone. It’s not safe when it’s like this.” She waved to Leo. “Go with Mari, make sure she’s all right.”

Rejection opened my mouth. I wasn’t fragile. I just didn’t know what to do with Leo’s hopeful looks and Judith’s thoughtful ones. “I don’t need…” I tried one more time.

Judith stared me down. “For my sanity, please let him go with you.”

I knew something about Jewish guilt from Suzanne. Only an idiot would try to hold out. I sighed. “Fine. At least it’s not a blizzard, I guess.”

I waited while Leo shoved his feet into his boots and zipped himself into a black rain jacket with a hood. I turned up my parka’s hood, though I was sure the wet down was going to feel like wearing cement by the time I got home.

Once we were standing outside on the front step, the saffron-warm light of the Ross house shining on us from the windows, I asked Leo, “How fast can you walk?”