Page 43 of Something Like Shelter

“I guess I’m to blame for that, huh?”

“I’ve been busy since before your bathroom decided to throw a fit. There’s always work in the trades. Something is always breaking.”

“Don’t I know it. What’s your favorite thing to cook?”

“Impossible to choose. My grandfather taught me the love of grilling and smoking. But I also learned to love all the interesting ways you can prepare a potato or pasta dish from my grandmother.”

“So, what I’m hearing is you could smoke some brisket and serve it with a side of roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus, and maybe a little noodle soup appetizer.”

“I could do that. Actually, you might have just given me an idea for a meal this week,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed at that. “You can’t steal my meal idea. That’s just mean.”

“Is it mean if you can have some too?”

“That’s a lot less mean. I mean, I would never turn down a plate, but don’t cook for me.”

I knew as the words were coming out of my mouth that they were wrong, that I needed to keep a professional disconnect between myself and a client, but that didn’t stop them from escaping my lips. “You could come over for a plate.”

The second I said it, I realized what I’d done.

I’d invited my client to my house.

For dinner. With her baby.

It sounded suspiciously like a date when I put it that way. But there was no way to snatch the invitation back.

So I found myself picturing Willa standing at my kitchen island while I pulled brisket from the smoker. Adelaide sleeping nearby. Tuna inevitably hovering at her feet in case someone dropped something he could steal.

The picture came together so easily that it was unsettling.

It looked like home.

I ignored that thought and focused on her smile instead. That felt safer.

“To your house?” she asked, eyes going bright.

“It’s where my smoker and grill live.”

Her lips curved up at that. “I might be persuaded into that. If I can bring dessert.”

“That works out. I have no skill with baked goods.”

“Me either. But the lady at the local bakery does,” she said, smile bright.

“Tuna will love the company. He will show you and Adelaide every single one of his toys.”

“You don’t mind if I bring her?”

“Of course you’re going to bring her. You two are a package deal. And while she can’t personally appreciate the brisket, there is some stained glass that casts rainbow prisms that she might find entertaining.”

“Well, then, you set a date and time and we’ll be there.”

“Be where?” a voice asked, making Willa’s eyes roll back for the briefest of seconds before she stuck one of those plastic smiles on her face just a second before one of the Chrises appeared.

“Have a surprise planned,” I said.

“What kind of surprise?” Chris asked, words already slurring.