The Husband Recipe (18 page)

Which smelled heavenly, as always.

Miss Lauren grabbed a matching pair of oven mitts that didn’t have a single burned mark or food stain on them, and took a big dish from the oven.

“There’s a covered dish in the fridge,” she instructed without looking back. “Grab it. We’ll come back for the rest.”

Meredith carried the dish very carefully, half-afraid she’d drop it on the way home. She didn’t. Miss Lauren made her check to see that the dining room was clear before she went in and placed the dish on the center of the table. She frowned at the table. “You need flowers,” she said, as if the absence of a centerpiece was a serious infraction.

“We don’t have any flowers,” Meredith said. “Just weeds.”

Miss Lauren smiled. “I have a garden full.” She studied the wrinkled tablecloth—who had time to iron?—and frowned. “There’s no time to take care of that tablecloth, but I do have a particular rose that matches that stripe perfectly.” She nodded. “It’ll do.”

They ran back and forth, carrying food, collecting flowers and a vase. Hank looked in a couple of times, and ran interference when Dad got too close to the kitchen.

When everything was done, Miss Lauren studied the results and smiled widely, happy with what they’d done even if the tablecloth was wrinkled.

Meredith took a deep breath, looked at her neighbor and asked plainly, “Why did you do all this?”

Miss Lauren stared dead-straight-on at her, not waving the question off as if it meant nothing, not brushing the query away. It
did
mean something, and they both knew it. “You were in trouble, I helped. It’s as simple as that. I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

“But…” Meredith was about to say she wouldn’t have, she would’ve laughed if she’d found out Miss Lauren was in a bind. Was she a bad person? Why was she so anxious to think the worst of a woman who had only been nice to her?

She didn’t get to continue the conversation. From the front of the house, a car door slammed. Justin yelled, “She’s here!” and Dad’s voice followed.

At the sound of that voice Miss Lauren twitched, and then she said she had to go. She hurried from the dining room, and then out the kitchen door, making a hasty escape.

Cole led Janet into the dining room, not certain exactly what to expect. Meredith had all but ordered him to stay out of the kitchen, and he’d done as she asked. This seemed to be so important to her, he wanted to give her the chance to succeed on her own. He’d told her to holler if she needed help and she hadn’t, so everything must’ve gone well.

Maybe tuna casserole wasn’t fancy, but it should do the trick. Her apple cobbler called for canned apples, but shoot, that’s the kind of recipe he’d pick if he were cooking. Not everyone wanted to spend their lives in the kitchen, like…

Cole stopped in the doorway when he saw the table. He recognized the chicken and rice, remembered the fancy ceramic dish it was in from the night Lauren had invited them all over for supper. The rolls were not the ones he’d bought at the grocery store, they were much larger, almost certainly homemade, and he sure as hell hadn’t bought the ingredients for the bean salad in the sparkling glass dish.

Sliced tomatoes. He didn’t have a tomato garden.

Good lord, were those the plates that had to be washed
by hand?

But he said nothing. Meredith was beaming. He hadn’t seen her this happy in a long time. The boys grinned, obviously in on keeping the secret. None of his kids possessed much of a poker face—which was a good thing.

Janet was obviously impressed. “Meredith, this looks wonderful!”

Hank piped up. “Wait till you see the chocolate cake we’re having for dessert!” His smile was wide and gap-toothed and full of joy.

The chocolate cake sealed the deal. Lauren had made this meal. Every bite of it. Now was not the time to ask the kids what the hell had happened.

Justin climbed into his chair, closed his eyes, pressed his palms together and said, “Give us this day our daily chicken…”

Lauren rushed around the kitchen, trying to make the best of what she could find in the fridge and the freezer. Maybe the plane from New York would be late. Maybe her guests had been delayed in Atlanta. Everyone got delayed in Atlanta.

She had three individual servings of frozen vegetable lasagna, and she could put together a very nice tray of cheese, tomatoes, olives and carrot sticks. She was a whiz with a knife, and in short order managed to turn the simple foods into a work of art. Flowers, spirals, butterflies. Impressive, if she did say so herself.

There wasn’t time to make another batch of rolls, but she did have the makings of corn bread in the pantry. Corn bread and lasagna. Her grandmother would be horrified. But, Lauren would do what she had to do. It was worth any sacrifice. She’d never forget the expression on Meredith’s face as they’d surveyed the finished product on the Donovan dining room table.

So what if Cole had dumped her less than twenty-four hours after they’d had sex in the kitchen? So what if he had turned out to be a jerk like all the rest? Meredith was just a child, and she shouldn’t have to pay for her father’s sins. They were still going to be neighbors, after all. The trip to New York wouldn’t last all that long. By the time she came home she’d be well over Cole Donovan.

She didn’t have time to dwell on Cole at the moment. She had a meal to plan and put together at the very last minute. So far so good, but dessert was a problem. She had the ingredients for several acceptable dishes, but time was short. Maybe she should just tell the producer that she was on a diet and could not bear the temptation. Yeah, like lasagna and corn bread were diet foods.

Lauren made her way through the kitchen like a woman on a mission, searching for something sweet that she could put together quickly. A bag of chocolate chips inspired her, and she rounded up the rest of the ingredients for chocolate-chip bar cookies.

And as she prepared the batter, she wondered how things were going at the Donovan house. She tried to think only of Meredith and the boys, but like it or not her mind ended up on Cole. He’d realize the meal had come from her kitchen. She only hoped he could keep a secret and wouldn’t spoil Meredith’s day.

She didn’t worry too much about that. He’d turned out to be a terrible and much too short-lived boyfriend, but he was a fabulous father.

“You must give me the recipe for the chicken and rice,” Janet said.

Cole almost choked. How was Meredith going to handle that one?

His daughter just smiled, calm as could be. She looked almost smug—and so much like her mother. “All the recipes are online.” She rattled off the URL for Lauren’s website. Nice cover.

After everyone had oohed and ahhed over the chocolate cake, and they’d discussed the weather and the new house and the neighborhood in general, Janet asked the kids if they’d like to spend the next week with her. Cole wasn’t shocked by the offer; Janet had pulled him aside as they’d headed in for lunch and asked if he minded. He’d reluctantly agreed—if the kids wanted to go. They could see their friends, Janet offered to take them shopping for school clothes, and they could visit their old stomping grounds. The boys jumped on the offer, but Meredith declined. Janet didn’t push, and for that Cole was grateful.

He was constantly bemoaning the lack of alone time, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kids to be away for a whole week. Five or ten minutes here and there would suffice. So many times he had to remind himself that he was all they had, but the real truth was, they were all he had.

Janet offered to help with the dishes, but Cole wouldn’t let her. Not only would she wonder about the lack of dirty pots and pans in the kitchen, he wanted a word with his daughter. Alone. He sent the boys off to pack, and asked Janet if she’d help them. She wandered off to do just that.

When he and Meredith were alone, looking out of the window over the kitchen sink—he could just see the edge of Lauren’s garden—he said simply, “Explain.”

Meredith ran to the oven and opened it. Inside were two pans and one pot, all three showing evidence of severe overcooking. “The burned rolls are in the garbage can,” she said, “but Miss Lauren said if we put it all in the trash Aunt Janet might find it. I guess we could’ve taken it all to her house, but there just wasn’t time. Maybe she just doesn’t allow burned stuff in her kitchen, I don’t know, but I…”

“Lauren,” he said, relying again on a single, lowly spoken, meaningful word to get his point across.

Meredith nodded. “I was upset, and she offered to help.” Her brown eyes got wide. “Maybe I was wrong about her, Dad. Maybe she’s not a bad person out to get you. She didn’t have to help me, but she did. The dishes and the flowers were her idea, too, and didn’t the table look nice? But yeah, it’s the food that’s the best. Talk about a lifesaver! It’s just lucky Miss Lauren had all this food sitting around.”

They’d just eaten a meal intended for her producer, he was certain. He did feel a little guilty, but if anyone could put together a decent meal in a hurry it was Lauren Russell.

“Maybe you should date her again, Dad,” Meredith said brightly. Was this the same girl who’d made up fictional love interests to keep them apart? Who’d argued that Lauren was a conniving woman out to steal him away? “I think you still like her. You do like her, don’t you? She likes you, I can tell. Did you break up with her because of me? I hope not. I was…I was wrong.”

Cole leaned against the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. Yeah, he liked Lauren—for all the good it was going to do either of them. She needed a different life from the one he could offer, and worse, he had seen in her the power for more pain than he could bear to face again in this lifetime. No need to tell Meredith all of that, because there was another, simpler answer. “Lauren is going to New York.”

Meredith’s face fell. “What?”

“That chicken and rice and chocolate cake were intended for the producer of some reality show who’s coming this afternoon to talk to her.” Might as well be blunt. “It would be a waste of time for me to date her, a waste of my time and hers. She’s going to go to New York, become a famous chef, get her own television show and never come back.”

Meredith’s lower lip trembled. Her dark eyes shone with unshed tears. All she said was “Oh.”

“I tell you what,” Cole said, trying to make his voice sound light even though he felt anything but inside. “While the boys are in Birmingham we’ll scour Lauren’s website and learn to make a few of those recipes ourselves. What do you say?” What better way to convince Meredith—and himself—that they didn’t need their neighbor?

Meredith had been right all along. They didn’t need anyone else.

“Okay,” Meredith said, but she didn’t sound very enthusiastic about the idea.

Cole turned, looked out the window again. He was so tempted to go next door, to thank Lauren for helping…to ask her to forgive him and stay. He could see it in his mind, so clearly. He’d touch her face; she’d look at him with those green eyes that could make him feel as though there was no one else in the world.
I’m sorry. Stay.

But he remained at the window. She deserved this chance; she deserved the life she wanted with a man who could give it to her without reservation.

She deserved someone besides him.

Chapter Thirteen

N
aturally, her guests were not delayed in Atlanta. If anything, they were a few minutes early. Lauren plastered on a smile and answered the door. It was easy to tell who was who. The man directly before her was older than the one who stood to the rear. Edward Mandel was completely bald, carried a leather briefcase that appeared to be brand-new, and wore a suit that looked as though it had been made for him.

The younger man behind him had long blond hair caught in a ponytail, and he carried a camera.

She offered Mandel her hand, they shook and took care of unnecessary introductions, and then she invited the two men into her home, greeting the second man—he’d introduced himself simply as Ben—with a handshake.

Lauren’s heart was still pounding and there was a sheen of sweat on her neck. She dearly hated rushing around at the last minute, but this time it couldn’t be helped. Besides, it wasn’t like the meal she’d prepared was a bad one. It was just different. And sadly, it was not her best.

The cookies were in the oven, filling the house with that unmistakable, welcoming scent. The warmed lasagna was on top of the stove and the artfully arranged platter of vegetables and cheese sat on a counter nearby.

Mandel glanced around her house as she led them inside. “What’s the humidity like around here?” he snapped. “It’s absolutely sweltering out there. I can’t believe people live in this heat on purpose.”

He would’ve been more comfortable without the expensive suit jacket, but she didn’t tell him so. “It has been a particularly hot summer,” Lauren said sweetly. Perhaps Mandel was not a good traveler. Maybe he was just having a bad day. “Would you like me to crank up the air-conditioning for you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, honey. Don’t want to be any trouble.” He looked her up and down critically, his eyes lingering on her chest for a moment. Was that dismay she read on his face? “What would you think about dyeing your hair red, honey? We already have a blonde. Redheads are popular, you should really be a redhead. With your coloring you could pull it off. And what about a padded bra? You do have a padded bra, don’t you? We need to rev up your image right out of the gate. We want people to love you. On these shows you have to be either loved or hated or else you’re out in the first couple of weeks.”

“Those are interesting suggestions, and we can discuss them later. Are you hungry?” she asked. “Or would you like to talk before we eat?”

“I’m starving,” Ben said.

The producer barely glanced at the younger man. “Let’s talk first. Ben will live if he has to wait awhile before he eats.”

Okay, so Edward “don’t call me Eddie” Mandel was rude. Maybe he was jealous because Ben had so much hair and he didn’t have a lick. That didn’t mean working for him would be a horrible experience. Besides, it would be temporary.
If
he wanted her, and
if
she took the job, it would just last a few weeks. Unless she won and he was the producer of her show…a problem she’d handle if and when it came to that.

Lauren showed her guests into the living room and they sat. She was just about to offer iced tea when the doorbell rang. She excused herself, determined to get rid of whoever it was in a hurry.

She was surprised to see Justin standing on her doorstep.

“Thanks for the cake,” he said, glancing toward his house. “Meredith didn’t tell Aunt Janet you made it, but we knew. We all knew. No one makes chocolate cake like you do.”

“It will remain our little secret,” Lauren said. “Now, I have to go because I have—”

“And I wanted to say goodbye,” he interrupted. “Me and Hank are going to Birmingham with Aunt Janet so we can see our friends.”

“Hank and I,” Lauren corrected gently.

“You’re going to Birmingham with us?” Justin’s eyes got big.

Lauren smiled. “No.”

“I didn’t think so. Meredith said you’re going to New York, and I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I got back from Birmingham, and then I couldn’t thank you for the cake. That’s good manners, right? Thanking you for the cake?” His eyes were so wide, so innocent…so like his father’s.

“Yes, it is. Now, I’m very sorry but I have to go. I have guests.”

“But…” Justin looked back toward his house again. “Can I have a hug? In case you’re not here when I get back.”

“Sure.” Lauren stepped onto the porch and Justin launched himself up into her arms. He held on tight, even lifted his skinny legs off the ground and wrapped them around her. She struggled to hold on to him without tipping forward, even laughed as he kissed her on the cheek.

“You’re a good neighbor, Miss Lauren,” Justin said enthusiastically. “I hope you don’t go to New York. I hope you’re here when I get home. I promise not to break any more windows, and I’ll be very careful with big, muddy weeds from now on. Promise.”

An unexpected knot of emotion inside her caught and swelled. There was something incredibly special about holding a child, something powerful about the complete trust they revealed when they hugged and just let go that could not be ignored.

“We’ll see, Justin.”

Hank came out of the Donovan front door and waved. “Come on, Justin, we have to finish packing!”

“Okay!” Justin’s response rang in Lauren’s ears—literally, since his mouth was at her earlobe—before he disentangled himself and dropped to the porch. He grinned and waved as he ran for home.

A horrible thought grabbed at Lauren. Escape had seemed like such a good idea, for a while, but if she did go to New York, if everything fell into place for her, career-wise, and she made a new home there…she was going to miss the Donovan kids. Noise, accidents, mud, broken windows and all, she would miss them. And yes, she was going to miss their father, horribly. Even if he was a rat.

And he
was
a rat, making her love him and then deciding she wasn’t worth the trouble. She closed the door on Justin and returned to the living room. Would she mind going red? Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. And she could endure a padded bra for a few weeks. As she reached the doorway she asked, “Would y’all like some iced tea?”

Mandel pointed a finger at her. “Y’all. That’s good. Use it whenever you can, honey. Maybe you can play up the accent when you’re on air. Viewers eat that up, for some reason I don’t get. Love for the hillbillies, I guess.”

Ben worked to contain a smile, but didn’t do a very good job of it. He looked almost apologetic, even though he’d done nothing he needed to apologize for. “I’d love a glass of tea.”

Lauren turned toward the kitchen and took a single step, but an odor stopped her in her tracks. Something was burning. In the next instance she noticed the smoke, and right on cue the smoke alarm started screaming.

She ran to the kitchen, and to the stove. Black smoke poured out of the oven, filling the room. She turned it off, checking the settings as she did so. The oven was set to broil, and she knew darn well she hadn’t left it that way. With a heavy oven mitt on her hand she rescued the bar cookies. Or tried to. They were beyond saving. The smoke alarm was shrill, but she ignored it for now, turning all her attention to the food.

The bar cookies that should be golden brown were black on top, completely burned. As the smoke began to clear she looked around the stovetop for the cornbread and lasagna. They were both gone. With a sinking heart she glanced into the oven one more time, and there they were, on the shelf below the one the pan of cookies had been sitting upon. The lasagna had been dumped on top of the cornbread, and they, too were burned.

She turned, looking for her veggie and cheese tray. The tray was there, but it was empty, wiped clean.

The back door was very slightly ajar.

Had she really just been thinking that she’d
miss
the Donovan children? Had a hug really made her have second thoughts about pursuing this great opportunity?

Before she could give in to her impulse and run into the backyard screaming their names, Mandel walked into the kitchen. “What the hell is this?” He waved his hand in front of his nose, wrinkled that nose and headed straight for the smoke alarm to silence the scream of warning. Then he turned his attention to the stove. “Please tell me this isn’t supposed to be the meal that shows off your culinary skills.”

“Nope,” Ben called from the dining room. “It’s in here.”

Lauren could hear the humor in his voice, and she cringed. What was waiting for her in the dining room? She followed Mandel, and when they reached the dining room and she saw what was waiting for them, she felt as if she might faint. She went light-headed for a moment, and the edges of her vision turned gray.

The table was still nicely set as she’d left it, with cloth napkins and her good china and crystal and silver, but the food sitting in the middle of the table was
not
hers. A burned tuna casserole; an equally burned apple cobbler; a pan of blackened peas, still in the dented pot, the odor wafting into the air and fighting with the scent of roses. She only knew what was in the casserole and cobbler because Meredith had told her as they’d hidden the dishes in the oven in the Donovan kitchen. It took her a moment to recognize the fourth dish. All the cheese and veggies she’d sculpted into attractive shapes had been scraped into a large bowl, stirred well, and then, apparently, it had all been lightly microwaved.

Mandel sighed. “You’re cute, you say y’all, you haven’t said you won’t dye your hair red and strap on some fake boobs, but honey, you have to be able to actually cook to be in this competition.”

“I can cook.” Lauren followed the two men to the front door. “This is…this is… I can explain.”

Ben was already walking toward the rental car, but Mandel turned to look Lauren in the eye. “Don’t feel bad, honey. Some people don’t perform well under pressure. Reality TV isn’t for you.” With that he turned and walked away.

Lauren sputtered for a minute, and then she yelled after the obnoxious man. “Don’t call me honey,
Eddie!
” She slammed the door, clenched her fists, and then pounded on the closed door once. And again.

Why would they do this to her? Obviously Justin had been a distraction while Meredith and Hank did the damage. And she’d thought he was being so sweet! She’d been suckered in by a hug and a wide grin. She should’ve known. Again she wondered,
why?
She’d done all she could to help Meredith, and this was the thanks she got.

As much as she didn’t want to face Cole ever again, she wasn’t about to stand here and let this infraction go.

The kids were up to something. True, the boys were busy packing and making plans for the week, and they were excited about seeing their friends. But there was something else going on. They’d been in and out of the house while he and Janet had made plans for the week. They’d been whispering, sneaking around.

They were in cahoots.

They were all back inside now, the boys gathering together their favorite video games and their bathing suits while Janet tried to convince Meredith to come along, too. Cole wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if they all decided to go with Janet. With Lauren out of the picture and all the kids gone, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Maybe he didn’t know how to be alone anymore. That was a scary thought.

When the doorbell rang, he jumped. What now? When he found Lauren on the front porch he was momentarily blindsided. She could do that to him with a glance, steal his breath, his brain, everything he had left of a soul. She wasn’t holding a muddy baseball or an offering of food, but judging by the expression on her face the coming conversation was more along the lines of “baseball” than “lasagna.”