Page 65 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

"I'm not the one you should be worried about."

"I worry because I know you."

He walked over and fixed the twisted strap of my dress.

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If you ever need me," his eyes held mine. “You'll ask."

"I will."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

His hand lingered against my cheek for a moment before he stepped away.

"I'll be home around six." He smiled. "Have fun."

I almost laughed at the word. Fun. It was the last thing I expected to have.

At noon, I crossed the street with a small glass bottle of sparkling lemonade, tied with a yellow ribbon. The front door opened before I even reached the porch.

"Maci."

Camille smiled so warmly that anyone watching would have thought we’d been friends for years.

"I hope I'm not late."

"You're right on time."

She stepped aside.

"Come in."

I caught the scent of roasted garlic, lemon, and fresh herbs before I even walked in. The house looked just like it had the other night. She took the lemonade from me.

"You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know, but I never come empty-handed."

"This way."

I followed her into a big kitchen with windows that looked out over the backyard. Sunlight poured in, making the marble countertops gleam. The table was already set with lemon rosemary chicken, roasted asparagus, herb potatoes, and a fresh salad. She used real china, cloth napkins, and crystal glasses.

"You cooked all of this?"

"I enjoy it."

She laughed.

"My husband says I cook enough to feed an army."

"I'm not complaining."

"I was hoping you'd say that."