“Listen to me going on. I need to eat so we can start sifting through cookbooks and some of the printed-out articles of pumpkin trends popular this year.” Nodding respectfully, he sank down onto the end of the couch. “It’s perfect timing that you took some time off to be with me while I recover.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. His mother could cut you with a look.
“Hand me a pen and paper, will you?” She opened and closed her hand. “I’m going to make us a list of supplies I know we’ll need. Then you can head to the grocery store while I decide what we’ll try today.”
“Today?” he asked, shocked. “We’re going to start now?”
“Well, yes,” she said, exasperated. “It’s going to take me every second leading up to the competition to get you into contest-winning shape.”
“Mom. I’m going to do my best, but I don’t want you upset if I don’t bring home the title.” He shook his head.
Her jaw ticked. “As long as you follow my directions to a t, you will.”
His mother had a wicked competitive streak, even if she tried to deny it. “Right. I’ll just tidy up while you do that.” He stood and escaped into the kitchen.
Pulling his phone out, he texted:
A: It’s going to be a long recovery process with Mom. She’s got some odd ideas for mother-son bonding time.
R: lol. Be nice. She loves you.
A: I love her, too. Why do you think I haven’t run for the hills already?
R: It can’t be that bad
A: She has me baking. Baking, sugar
R: I have faith in you, hero. *wink
He toyed with the phone as he thought of the paper and decided against it. It was a conversation best had in person.
A: Saw the paper.
R: God. She spun that out of control. I think to boost my numbers for this auction she roped me into. I couldn’t say no and seem like a team player. Her answer smoothed some of the ruffled feathers.
R: Hero?
A: It bothered me. The admission unsettled him.
R: Why?
A: Because you’re anything but single.
R: Sorry. She put me on the spot. Talk about it later in person?
A: Yes. Have a good rest of the day.
R: Will do. Try no tot burn your mother’s house down.
His lips twitched up in the corners. Ha, ha. Relieved from unburdening himself, he slipped the phone back into his pocket, finished straightening the kitchen, and got his mother’s medication ready. He and his father had agreed to alternate care to keep her entertained, following the d
octor’s orders and themselves sane. Never one to be idle, sitting still was her least favorite activity.
Chapter Five
Rosaleen
Sitting at the table in the corner of the coffee shop, she nursed her vanilla latte and waited for Alaric to join her. With his new role as caregiver added to his already busy schedule as boss, and woodworker, and the bakery open for business, they didn’t see each other as much as they used to. She missed him. He walked in the door, and she gave a quick wave. She gestured toward the Irish cream coffee with whipped cream she’d purchased him. Smiling, he walked to the table.