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“Doesn’t matter. Barbara Jean’s gone, Mom’s got a new cook, and everything’s going to be fine. So it’s all going to work out.”
Liam wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t want to argue with her. After all, he had a date with her mother after a week or so of trying. Maybe Carol hadn’t been responsible for that, but it was still what he’d been hoping for. He wasn’t going to rock the boat over this.
He found a suitably flat pebble and tried for a skip in the river. He got two jumps with it—maybe luck was with him for once. “Your mom’s looking for you. I’m picking up supper for the three of us, and she wants you to head home.”
Carol nodded happily. “I can do that. What are you getting?”
“Greek. Gyros.”
“Don’t forget the grape leaves.” Carol pushed herself to her feet and headed off toward her house, humming “Let It Go” as she went.
Liam watched her for a moment, wondering if her happiness was such a good idea. Something about it made him a little uneasy. She shouldn’t assume that everything in the universe conspired to make things happen her way. That was a dangerous assumption for anybody, let alone a headstrong twelve-year-old.
What kind of jerk objects when a little girl is happy? He blew out a breath. He didn’t object, exactly. He just wished he was more convinced she wasn’t kidding herself and him. At this point in his life, he’d learned to be sort of cautious around good fortune.
He turned back toward town and the gyros he’d promised to get. At the least, he could feed the family. And maybe have a chance for a little quality time with Ruth afterward.
Life is good for now, Dempsey. Don’t be a dick. He hoped he wasn’t. But he also hoped neither Carol nor he was heading for a crash, especially since his time here was limited.
Chapter Eight
Ruth was still feeling a little unsettled by the time she got home. She’d had more walk-in customers than usual, selling a lot of cheese and deli meat, along with some of the indifferent pastries from the commercial bakery. It was probably a sympathy vote from the people in town who thought Barbara Jean had been an asshole. But she’d take it. Any sale was a good sale.
They were also right. Barbara Jean had been a total asshole, and the conclusion, with Peaches coming onboard, had been more than satisfying. Still, the whole sequence of events made her a little uneasy. Things didn’t usually work out this well in reality. Getting rid of Barbara Jean and finding Peaches in one fell swoop seemed like serendipity on steroids.
And having Liam Dempsey drop in for dinner was serendipity squared. The warning bells were still clanging in her brain. This is a bad idea. It’s going to be twice as hard to turn him down after this. But maybe she shouldn’t turn him down anymore. Maybe she should see what happened when she said yes.
But you’re only in this for the sex, remember? Nothing serious. He said himself he was looking for a new job, thinking of moving on. How could she forget? She definitely remembered the last time she’d had sex with Liam.
Doing it again didn’t mean they were getting involved.
Carol was in the living room watching TV as she walked in the front hall. At least Carol’s role in today’s drama was something she could tackle—and she needed to. Her daughter glanced up as she entered the room, giving her a deceptively innocent look.
Ruth went straight to the point. “Why did you go into the kitchen at the deli today when I’d told you to steer clear of Barbara Jean?”
“We needed two sandwiches. I didn’t see why I couldn’t make them.” Carol’s innocent look morphed into defiance. “It’s not like I didn’t go into the kitchen all the time when Honoria was cook.”
“You couldn’t make them because Barbara Jean didn’t want you in there, and because I’d told you to stay away. You should have let Barbara Jean handle it.”
Carol narrowed her eyes. “But why was it okay for her to tell me to stay out of the kitchen? It wasn’t her kitchen, it’s yours. And I’ve been going in there since I was a little girl. And she made really bad sandwiches.”
