Jack spooned out bowls of chilli and grabbed another beer before they tucked in heartily to their meal. Evie had had this dish before too, even made it herself from time to time, she told him, and they dunked cheesy garlic bread into the mixture happily, the conversation on safe topics including ice-skating, Christmas shopping, Christmas food choices and the memories of snowy festive seasons gone by.
‘Mom hated the snow,’ Jack told them both. ‘She was a summer New Yorker through and through. Oh, she loved to watch the scene unfold outside the window when the fire was lit and she didn’t have to go anywhere, but boy did she make a fuss when she’d have to go out in it. I think she waved a banner the day I started taking myself off to school and she stayed at home. She’d do a lot of the jewellery designs sitting at the kitchen table, or beside the fire.’ He smiled at the memory.
‘I love the snow,’ said Nicole, ‘but by the time February comes around I’ve had enough and I want spring to appear.’
Jack tore off another piece of cheesy garlic bread to dip into his chilli. ‘What about you, Evie?’
‘What about me?’
It was the first time he’d heard her defensive since they’d started eating. He thought she’d softened with a bit of food inside her, but apparently he was wrong.
‘I wondered whether you like the snow or prefer the summer heat,’ he said tactfully.
‘I do like the snow.’ Her shoulders relaxed. ‘I like the summer too.’
‘And what’s your favourite memory of the snow?’ Nicole asked.
Evie dragged a piece of cheesy garlic bread through her chilli. ‘I don’t really have many.’
‘Come on, you must have some. I remember we’d have the biggest snowball fights when I was a teenager. But the boys would get too rough, send the girls crying half the time.’
Evie finished the piece of chilli-dipped garlic bread. ‘We never had as much snow as you get in New York, but I did build my fair share of snowmen, had snowball fights.’
‘Where are you from?’ Jack asked.
‘The south coast of England.’
‘I didn’t realise. You sound American to me. How long have you been living here?’
‘I’ve been here twenty years almost to the day, so my accent has all but gone.’
Jack poured another glass of water from the carafe. He wondered again what this woman’s story was. ‘Did your entire family move here?’
Evie nodded, but she didn’t elaborate. ‘Can I get you another drink, Nicole? I’m assuming you’re okay.’ She nodded towards Jack’s beer next to his water glass.
‘Let me,’ Nicole jumped up and went to fetch the bottle of wine from the kitchen. The atmosphere was tense at the reference to Evie’s past and Jack didn’t know where to look. He knew Nicole wasn’t comfortable either. It was rare for her to run out on a situation, but perhaps she was at last beginning to realise how little she really knew about Evie.
The conversation turned to destinations in Europe that any of them had visited or would like to see one day. They talked about the shelter, and Nicole asked about Nate out at Hollyhock Farm, about the Christmas tree side of the business, the fruit picking that would start with the changing seasons.
‘They’re doing really well,’ said Jack. ‘Nate has taken to it like a duck to water. It feels as though he’s been doing it his whole life.’
‘He never struck me as the office type,’ said Nicole. ‘Right back when he started taking ice hockey seriously or when you two would go off on your hiking trips or skiing trips, I always pictured him doing something outdoorsy.’
Jack laughed. ‘You make it sound as though we’re a couple. We were attached at the hip,’ he explained to Evie.
‘How long have you known him?’ Evie cleared the dishes from the table and brought over a lemon meringue pie she’d picked up from the bakery a block away. Jack recognised the name in the swirly writing on the side of the box, a bakery Nicole had frequented even back when she’d worked as a housekeeper for the Churchills.
‘We went to school together, and we’ve been best friends ever since.’
The look Evie gave him was one of curiosity, one he hadn’t seen before, like she wanted to know more, as though she was confused about this side of Jack she didn’t know. He took it as a good sign.
They devoured a generous slice of the lemon meringue pie each, the lemon tang refreshing after the chilli. Jack cleared away this time, and washed up in the kitchen while the women chatted some more, and at his insistence went through to the living room. This evening was going well, better than expected. When he’d seen Evie show up tonight, he’d thought the evening would drag until he could get the hell out of there, but then he’d relaxed, deciding it might be a chance to try to find out more, really see how she was with Nicole.
He went through to join the women. The fire cast its orange glow over the room and he sat on the rug in front of the fireplace as they chatted about anything and everything: the jewellery for sale at The Diamond Touch, Nicole’s Christmas feast and her plans to get around any of the trickier jobs with just one arm. They talked about a few characters from the shelter and they talked about the forecast for extra heavy snowfalls at Christmas. And by the time the evening came to a close, Jack realised that, actually, they’d all had a pretty good time.
‘Thank you for inviting me tonight.’ He pulled on his jacket.
‘It was my pleasure,’ said Nicole. ‘I’m glad you came.’
