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"I wouldn't go that far. But I know my way around the kitchen. I make dinner every night."
"Oh yeah? What did you have last night?"
"Turkey sandwich on wheat. With a pickle."
"And the night before?"
"Turkey sandwich on wheat. No pickle."
She giggled. "What was the last hot meal you cooked?"
He pretended to rack his brains. "Uh . . . beans and franks. On Monday."
She feigned amazement. "I stand corrected. How are you at grating cheese?"
"In that, I would consider myself an expert."
"Okay," she said. "There's a bowl in the cupboard over there, beneath the blender. And you don't need to do the whole block. Ben usually has two tacos, and I have only one. Anything more would be for you."
Thibault set his beer on the counter and retrieved the bowl from the cupboard. Then he moved to the sink to wash his hands and unwrap the block of cheese. He snuck glances at Elizabeth as he worked. Finished with the onion, she'd already moved on to the green pepper. The tomato came next. The knife danced steadily, the movements precise.
"You do that so quickly."
She answered without breaking the rhythm of her movements. "There was a while there when I dreamed of opening my own restaurant."
"When was that?"
"When I was fifteen. For my birthday, I even asked for the Ginsu knife."
"You mean the one that used to be advertised on late-night television? Where the guy on the commercial uses it to cut through a tin can?"
She nodded. "That's the one."
"Did you get it?"
"It's the knife I'm using now."
He smiled. "I've never known anyone who actually admitted to buying one."
"Now you do," she said. She stole a quick look at him. "I had this dream about opening this great place in Charleston or Savannah and having my own cookbooks and television show. Crazy, I know. But anyway, I spent the summer practicing my dicing. I'd dice everything I could, as fast as I could, until I was as fast as the guy on the commercial. There were Tupperware bowls filled with zucchini and carrots and squash that I'd picked from the garden. It drove Nana crazy, since it meant we had to have summer stew just about every single day."
"What's summer stew?"
"Anything mixed together that can be served over noodles or rice."
He smiled as he shifted a pile of grated cheese to the side. "Then what happened?"
"Summer ended, and we ran out of vegetables."
"Ah," he said, wondering how someone could look so pretty in an apron.
"Okay," she said, pulling another pot from under the stove, "let me whip up the salsa."
She poured in a large can of tomato sauce, then added the onions and peppers and a dash of Tabasco, along with salt and pepper. She stirred them together and set the heat on medium.
"Your own recipe?"
"Nana's. Ben doesn't like things too spicy, so this is what she came up with."
Finished with the cheese, Thibault rewrapped it. "What else?"
"Not much. I just have to shred some lettuce and that's it. Oh, and heat up the shells in the oven. I'll let the meat and the salsa simmer for a bit."
"How about I do the shells?"
She handed him a cookie sheet and turned on the oven. "Just spread the shells out a little. Three for us, and however many you want for you. But don't put them in yet. We still have a few minutes. Ben likes the shells fresh out of the oven."
Thibault did as she requested, and she finished with the lettuce at about the same time. She put three plates on the counter. Picking up her beer again, she motioned toward the door. "Come out back. I want to show you something."
Thibault followed her out, then stopped short as he took in the view from the covered deck. Enclosed by a hedge lay a series of cobblestone paths that wove among several circular brick planters, each with its own dogwood tree; in the center of the yard, serving as a focal point, was a three-tiered fountain that fed a large koi pond.
"Wow," he murmured. "This is gorgeous."
"And you never knew it was here, right? It is pretty spectacular, but you should see it in the spring. Every year, Nana and I plant a few thousand tulips, daffodils, and lilies, and they start blooming right after the azaleas and dogwoods. From March through July, this garden is one of the most beautiful places on earth. And over there? Behind that lower hedge?" She pointed toward the right. "That's the home of our illustrious vegetable and herb garden."
"Nana never mentioned she gardened."
"She wouldn't. It was something she and Grandpa shared, kind of like their little secret. Because the kennel is right there, they wanted to make this a kind of oasis where they could escape the business, the dogs, the owners . . . even their employees. Of course, Drake and I, and then Ben and I, pitched in, but for the most part, it was theirs. It was the one project at which Grandpa really excelled. After he died, Nana decided to keep it up in his memory."
"It's incredible," he said.
"It is, isn't it? It wasn't so great when we were kids. Unless we were planting bulbs, we weren't allowed to play back here. All our birthday parties were on the lawn out front that separates the house from the kennel. Which meant that for two days beforehand, we'd have to scoop up all the poop so no one would accidentally step in it."
"I can see how that would be a party stopper--
"Hey!" a voice rang out from the kitchen. "Where are you guys?"
Elizabeth turned at the sound of Ben's voice. "Out here, sweetie. I'm showing Mr. Thibault the backyard."
Ben stepped outside, dressed in a black T-shirt and camouflage pants. "Where's Zeus? I'm ready for him to find me."
"Let's eat first. We'll do that after dinner."
"Mom . . ."
"It'll be better when it's dark anyway," Thibault interjected. "That way you can really hide. It'll be more fun for Zeus, too."
"What do you want to do until then?"
"Your Nana said you played chess."
Ben looked skeptical. "You know how to play chess?"
"Maybe not as good as you, but I know how to play."
"Okay." He scratched at his arm. "Hey, where did you say Zeus was?"
"On the porch out front."
"Can I go play with him?"
"You'll have to set the table first," Elizabeth instructed him. "And you'll only have a couple of minutes. Dinner's almost ready."
"Okay," he said, turning around. "Thanks."
As he raced off, she leaned around Thibault and cupped her mouth with her hands. "Don't forget the table!"
Ben skidded to a halt. He opened a drawer and grabbed three forks, then threw them onto the table like a dealer in Vegas, followed by the plates Elizabeth had set aside earlier. In all, it took him less than ten seconds--and the table showed it--before he vanished from view. When he was gone, Elizabeth shook her head. "Until Zeus got here, Ben used to be a quiet, easygoing child after school. He used to read and study, and now all he wants to do is chase your dog."
Thibault made a guilty face. "Sorry."
"Don't be. Believe me, I like a little . . . calmness as much as the next mother, but it's nice to see him so excited."
"Why don't you get him his own dog?"
"I will. In time. Once I see how things go with Nana." She took a sip of beer and nodded toward the house. "Let's go check on dinner. I think the oven's probably ready."
Back inside, Elizabeth slipped the cookie sheet into the oven and stirred the meat and salsa before ladling both into bowls. As she brought them to the table along with a stack of paper napkins, Thibault straightened the silverware and plates and grabbed the cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. When Elizabeth set her beer on the table, Thibault was struck again by her natural beauty.
