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She left the table to Nina, where she shined, and dived into the kitchen cleanup, where she did.
Already exhausted, she changed out of her work clothes into cropped khakis and a bright pink T-shirt, and she wondered, sincerely, how people did this sort of thing every day.
And they still had the asparagus to deal with, the rolls to warm. She donned her apron again.
Nina, looking as fresh as a spring morning, met her in the hallway.
“So just olives, cheese, some raw veggies. We’re good at that part. It’s too bad the kitchen’s so small, no real let’s-all-hang-around space.”
“Next spring,” Morgan vowed. “It actually smells good in here, Nina. It smells like we knew what we were doing.” In the kitchen, they stood hip-to-hip and stared into the oven. “It looks right, too. Are you sure it’s only, like, ten minutes for the asparagus?”
“Mama knows,” Nina said, voice solemn. “But we trim it before they get here, so that’s now. Then, say about seven-fifteen or so, we really casually start the asparagus. Which five minutes do you want, sauté or steam?”
“God. God. Steam.”
“That’s the part I want. So.” Nina held out a fist. “On three.”
“Damn it.” Morgan hissed when Nina’s rock crushed her scissors.
By seven, they had the music down to a murmur, the oven on coast, the finger food arranged.
The knock came promptly.
“Aprons off!” Nina ordered.
They answered the door together, and found two men on their stoop.
“We pulled up at the same time.” Adorable Sam in his horn-rims offered Nina a bouquet of pink tulips and Morgan a bottle of wine.
“I’ll reverse that.” Luke handed Morgan a clutch of purple hyacinths in a clear balloon vase. “Hi, Nina. I’m Luke.” And offered her another bottle of wine.
And after all the work and worry, it was easy after all.
They crowded into the kitchen and the excuse for a dining alcove with glasses of wine. It seemed to her that Luke and Sam bonded quickly—the IT guy and the more-than-casual gamer had plenty to talk about.
Hoping their luck held, Morgan dropped butter into the skillet for the asparagus.
“Nothing like a home-cooked meal when you’re on the road.” Luke gave her a casual kiss on the cheek. “I really appreciate it.”
“Let’s hope it ends up being a home-cooked meal and not a cry for help.”
He laughed. “It smells fantastic. Mind if I go wash up?”
“Sure. Hallway on the left of the living room, door on the right.”
“Ten-minute countdown about to start,” Nina announced, and Sam slid an arm around her.
“I can’t believe you guys did all this. Worked all day, then made a meal like this.”
“You haven’t tasted it yet,” Morgan reminded him.
“Worked all day,” Sam repeated, and kissed the top of Nina’s head. “And spent all this time making dinner.”
Pleased, Nina lifted her face for a kiss.
“Okay, here goes.” Morgan slid the asparagus into the melted butter, set five minutes on her phone. She stirred and shook it around, tried to use her eyes and nose with the salt, the pepper.
While she worked the skillet, Sam helped Nina take the chops and potatoes out of the oven, slide the rolls in to warm.
