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“?’Cause I don’t know whether to be furious at him for what he did or to be upset that I didn’t think of it first.”
I smiled at her and, almost in spite of herself, Rain smiled back.
“Anyway, don’t call him. At least not yet.”
It was the first big-sisterly thing she’d said to me in a long time. And yet, I wanted to call him. I wanted, more than anything, to hear his voice—to hear that he was doing okay. I wanted to hear that he missed me.
She wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I heard you got a job offer.”
I looked up. “Where?”
“When I ran into the bedroom to change, Sammy followed me in and pointed her finger at me and said, ‘Mommy, she got a job offer. Be nice about it. Be nice!’?”
I laughed. “I appreciate her support.”
“What’s this job?”
“Basically, it would be doing another show. Filmed here. All about starting over, finding my roots.”
“Ah . . . redemption TV.”
I nodded. “Yep. Pretty much.”
She reached into the cabinet, started putting the plates away. “How do you feel about it?”
“Great. And not so great.”
Rain turned and looked at me as if considering whether to say something. “Do you know Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management?”
“Is that a book Sammy wants?”
“No, no. Isabella Beeton. She was like the original Martha Stewart, back in the 1800s. Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Cookery and Household Management was the definitive book on cooking and keeping your house together.”
“How do you know that?”
“How do you not know that? Next time you take on a role, you should do a little research.”
I smiled.
“I read about her years ago, and of course I thought of you, ’cause, apparently, this Beeton lady didn’t write any of her own recipes either. She literally copied recipes from other people, going as far back as the Restoration. And then she would add the list of ingredients to the front of every recipe. So it would look different from the original. So she could sell it as her own.”
“Seriously?”
Rain nodded. “This is the best part. Even after she died, her husband pretended she was still alive and went on publishing more books. There’s some rea
l fraud!”
I shrugged. “It was easier back then.”
“I just think it’s kind of interesting. She did a bad thing, right? But she also put the ingredients at the beginning. And now that’s how every recipe is written. She did a bad thing and she was the first person to ever do that.”
“So you’re saying that’s what I have to do? Put the ingredients at the beginning.”
“Metaphorically speaking.”
“That’s your pep talk?”
She shrugged. “It’s what I got.”
