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“What are you talking about?”
“Lavinia told me you always cook when you’re stressed.”
“In this case, I’m cooking becauseyoushould rest. Not because I’m stressed.”
“We could get takeout.”
“Not necessary. I like to cook,” I said as I unlocked the car.
“Okay. Whatever you need.” She got into the passenger side. “I’m glad we’re doing this at the end of the week. That way I can relax this weekend and be ready for work on Monday. What time should I be ready?”
“I’ll send a car for you around seven AM,” I told her as I pulled into traffic. “I’ve already alerted our customer relations manager that you’ll be there for training. You should plan to come into the office every day for the first couple of weeks.”
“I won’t see you there?”
“Likely not.” I’d make sure of it, since seeing her at the office would be a distraction I didn’t need.
“Okay, well…I can’t wait to get started.”
After we got to the inn, I immediately left for the food shop. The breather felt good—an opportunity to live in denial for a bit. It was too late to turn back now, but I hadn’t fully accepted that yet. I still wanted to pretend none of this was happening. Abby was handling everything like a champion; the problem, as usual, was me.
When I returned with the groceries, Abby and Lavinia were watching a film.
“Exactly how many people are eating here tonight?” Abby asked when she saw the bags I’d brought in.
“I’m making some things and freezing them for you since I won’t be here the next few days.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “But thank you.”
I got to work in the kitchen, hoping they’d give me space. I wanted to get lost in the process. But that was difficult when Abby approached and leaned over to watch every move I made.
“Do you always slice that fast? You’re gonna take one of your fingers off, Sig.”
“Hopefully not the middle one. I need that quite a lot.” I slid the onion pieces aside and began dicing garlic, as if in a race against time. “Haven’t you heard the rule about never disturbing the chef?”
“I’d like to help, if you’ll let me.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“She just said I needed to take it easy. She didn’t say I couldn’t stand and chop vegetables.” She moved in closer. “Seriously, what can I do?”
Her flowery scent caused my body to react. I couldn’t even look at her, because I knew I’d soften if I caught a glimpse of her beautiful face or looked into her always-curious eyes.
“I appreciate the offer, Abby, but I prefer to cook alone, if you don’t mind.”Or rather, your nearness is making me uneasy.
“Sure. No problem,” she muttered, disappointment in her voice.
She didn’t deserve my cold demeanor. Abby was clearly trying to connect with me, and I’d put a block up. I wouldn’t be able to manage the situation this way for the next nine months, but this was what I needed for tonight.
I prepared three different trays of dinner: a vegetable lasagna, a chicken and mushroom casserole, and a shrimp, pesto, and pasta bake. I popped the shrimp dish in the oven for tonight and placed the other two meals in the freezer.
Once dinner was baking, I went into the living room, where Abby was showing Lavinia something on the telly.
Lavinia patted the spot next to her. “Sigmund, come sit. Abby is showing me her family’s shop.”
I stepped farther into the living room.
Abby paused the telly and looked up from where she sat with her legs crossed. “A local news station did a feature on our store a few years back, when my mother was still alive. It’s posted on YouTube. I pulled it up to show her.”
