Page 123 of Unrequited

“Oh, sweet girl, I’m sorry,” Caitlin says.

I breathe out slowly. “Thank you. I taught myself. I’m pretty good at it.”

“Are you?” she asks, smiling. “I’m not very good myself. Ihad a sheltered life. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. Not now.” She winks.

“My son likes to eat. They all do. Tonight’s a little celebration,” she says with a smile. “Doesn’t feel right asking the bride to cook though! I hope Seamus isn’t put out. Do you like wine?”

“Yes.” I nod eagerly.

“White or red?”

“Either’s fine.”

“It’s all right, lass. You can pick.”

“I actually like both,” I admit.

She chuckles. “Good. My son needs someone agreeable.”

I shrug. “Only one person can be in charge, I guess.”

“Oh, I know how that goes.” She laughs again. “Now let’s see. You teach me how to cook, and maybe I’ll teach you how to survive a McCarthy man, eh?”

I shake her hand with a laugh. “Deal.”

We start pulling things together for the meal, her guidance easy and practiced. The ingredients are simple but fresh. Roasted chicken with garlic and lemon. Buttered green beans. Honey-glazed carrots. Fresh bread, baked earlier in the day.

And for dessert, a honey cake, light, golden, and fragrant.

“This is amazing,” Caitlin says, watching me mix and move. “Seamus will scold me for putting you to work.”

“I’d rather stay busy,” I reply. “I cooked for him back at the cabin.”

She grimaces. “Oh dear. Tell me he didn’t try?”

I laugh. “He did.”

“No. Oh, I’m sorry.” She grimaces. “Not his strong suit.”

“Definitely not.”

We laugh again, and I catch Kyla watching us from the doorway, coming and going with plates.

Ashland’s in the background too. Observing, quiet.

Bronwyn enters just in time to admire the honey cake. “It only takes thirty minutes,” I tell her. “Fresh food doesn’t have to take forever.”

“Let’s bring this out,” Caitlin says, and leads me into a large formal dining room.

“We don’t eat in here much anymore,” she says. “It’s gone out of style, hasn’t it? The old tradition of the family table.”

I nod. “We eat in the kitchen too.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “But tonight is special.”

Bronwyn walks in. “Bronwyn, darling, wine glasses, please. Kyla, fetch your dad his drink.”

They move quietly, obediently. But I notice Seamus isn’t here yet.