Why had she done it? Suzie shoved a tray of chocolate chip cookie dough into the oven. In eight minutes they should come out. Surely in that time she could get over her own stupidity. Why had she tried to prove to an interviewer offering a job she didn’t even want that she could use the new version of Quickbooks?
More to the point, why couldn’t she? Why had she fumbled so badly through a program she used to know so well?
She would have collapsed at the kitchen table and turned into a pensive pile of goo, but the stockpots needed stirring and the rue for the cheese sauce was going to burn if she didn’t stay on top of it. Thank good for cooking. It gave her enough time to think without letting her fall into a deep pit of despair.
In college there were a few times when the only thing that could drag her out of that deep pit was Miranda. It took someone that brassy to bring her around. Once she let the depression get a hold of her, it could spread without mercy.
Suzie carried a glass to the sink. Ah! The salad. She’d completely forgotten it. Well, it would keep. First, the sauce. Wait. Why was she making sauce? Oh yeah, for the pasta. So it was all right that she’d come into the kitchen with no real plan. She wasn’t nearly as out of control as she felt. Not here in her beloved kitchen.
Yet still the icy fingers of fear wouldn’t leave her alone.
The cookies smelled right, so she opened the oven door. Perfect. As she pulled them out, Vin wandered in. She thought at first he’d say something about whose turn to cook it might be, but he only sat down at the table.
Of course he asked what was wrong. Why did everyone assume something must be wrong just because she’d invaded her own kitchen? Well, she was in no mood to talk about it today. Luckily, he went to answer the door before she had to get short with him.
She started transferring cookies from the sheet to the cooling rack. The sound of heavy boots in the hall brought her head up. Then a bum she’d passed on State Street a few hours ago walked into the kitchen like he belonged there.
Just like the time the man who tried to kidnap her son simply walked into the back door. Only then she’d had a heavy pan in her hand and simply knocked the man out. And this one had been welcomed through the front door by Vin. Unless the man overpowered Vin. He certainly looked strong enough under the crusty surface.
“Suzie! What’s wrong?”
“Who… who are you?” She leaned away, falling into the handle of the oven behind her. How did he know her name?
The man went ridged. His eyes glazed and he stared at nothing. Under the stubble, his jaw took on a hard line. Then suddenly Suzie saw it.
“Drew? Is that really you?”
The whole room breathed a sigh of relief, as if she’d said something miraculous. Whatever it was must have worked, because Drew blinked a couple of times and relaxed like a soldier at ease.
“For a minute there I thought you were one of the O’Connors.” Suzie laughed nervously.
Wrong thing to say. He stiffened up immediately.
This was Drew? Her Drew? He didn’t look or act anything like he used to. His hair had grown down to his shoulders. His stubble looked right at home on his face. He reeked like a man who hadn’t taken a bath in a week. And his normal, steady surety was gone. He seemed… fragile and decrepit.
“It’s to be expected, my boy.” The old man who had been with Drew on State Street came up and clapped him on the shoulder. “She hasn’t seen you in a while, has she?”
“Ah. Right. And I didn’t even think to clean up.” Drew looked absolutely miserable.
It finally dawned on her what he needed. All this time, while she’d been agonizing over coming up with the money to keep running the house, let alone adopting Gene, Drew had been going through Hll. Though she wasn’t at all sure she could handle this, Suzie took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
“Welcome home, Drew. I’m glad you’re back.” She wrapped her arms around him and felt like an idiot for a full minute before he pulled her close and hugged her back.
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