Page 79 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

When I got home, sweat stuck to the back of my neck and my running shoes were dusty from the Lemon Grove trails. I hadn’t meant to run that far.

The afternoon sun made it feel warmer than it really was, and the day seemed to slow down. I took off my shoes by the mudroom bench and stretched my sore calves.

"I'm home."

Bernice called out from the kitchen.

"Back already."

I laughed.

"Hello to you too."

As I walked into the kitchen, I smelled browned onions, garlic, and fresh herbs in the air.

Bernice stood at the stove in her floral apron, holding a wooden spoon and reaching for a skillet. Chopped vegetables sat in glass bowls on the counter.

Thick pork chops rested beside fresh thyme and minced garlic, seasoned so well that my stomach growled before I could even shower.

"You started dinner already?"

She glanced back at me.

"Dinner doesn't cook itself."

"It's barely three."

"And I plan to be home by five."

I couldn’t help but grin.

"You're serious."

"Serious as a heart attack. I’ve been this way since before you started running through here, acting like you’re training for the Olympics."

"I was only gone forty-five minutes."

"You were gone long enough."

She aimed the wooden spoon in my direction.

"Sit down somewhere before you fall out."

I laughed and dropped onto one of the barstools at the big kitchen island.

"I feel fine."

"Mmhmm."

Bernice didn’t believe me for a second. She kept stirring the onions until they softened, then tossed in the garlic.

The kitchen quickly filled with the smell of onions, and I completely forgot about the smoothie I had planned to make after my run.

"I hope Zaire's hungry."

Bernice smiled with pride.

"Smothered pork chops." She nodded at the greens soaking in the sink. "Collards."