“Don’t worry, Erin,” Sarah hurried inside ahead of her dad. “I’m only here in a cooking capacity. I’m completelynotelbowing my way into dinner.”
Erin looked to Remy for guidance on what she meant, but he just shrugged.
“I’m really looking forward to visiting with you, too,” Erin assured her. “Of course, you’ll join us. If anything,I’mthe one elbowing my way into your family dinner.”
She gestured at the kitchen and Sarah moved toward it in a rush of ponytail and black poncho fringe. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Your kitchen is so cute!” Sarah ran a hand over the rounded lines of a yellow Frigidaire refrigerator. “Everything is so clean and modern, but retro, too. Cool, isn’t it, Dad?”
Remy nodded. “Cool and cute. Definitely.”
He winked at Erin from behind Sarah’s back.
“But to answer your question, I only offered to come so I could cook for you both,” Sarah insisted. “I owe my dad a thank-you for being patient with me when I’ve been one headache after another for him this week.”
“I tried telling her we wanted her to stay and enjoy the food she cooks,” Remy explained, setting the bags on the pale yellow-tiled kitchen counter. “But she’s on a mission.”
“Wow.” Erin checked out the pile of produce Sarah pulled from one of the grocery sacks. “Maybe we should let her run with this mission. Whatever dinner is in the works looks like it’s going to be good.”
“We stopped at a farmer’s market and everything smelled so fresh.” Sarah passed Erin a quart of strawberries. “See?”
Dutifully, Erin inhaled while Remy withdrew a bottle of wine. Father and daughter made an easy team together in this kitchen that Sarah had never set foot in before. It was nice to see them both in a moment where they were relaxed. Happy, even. Erin was curious about what had happened at the police station, but didn’t want to risk breaking the mood.
“I know right where you got them.” She found a colander and tried to wash some of the fruit, but Sarah shooed her away. “You must have stopped at the farm where Ally’s boyfriend, Ethan, lives.”
“Really?” Sarah’s expressive green eyes grew wide. “Ally told me all about Ethan’s family and how they take farming really serious. I guess they try to live like pioneers or something, doing everything themselves. I think it’s neatto know you have the skills to like—run away and live off the grid.”
Remy stilled, but Sarah didn’t notice as she moved around the kitchen, turning on the oven and pulling down a cutting board from an open shelf. Another lightning flash brightened the kitchen, making Erin reach into a cupboard for a flashlight, along with some candles and matches, just in case.
“Wouldn’t you miss modern conveniences, though?” Erin asked carefully. “Like good shopping or restaurants?”
“Maybe.” She looked over her shoulder at her father. “Dad, you grew up where it was so rural you were practically off the grid. Didn’t you like it in the bayou?”
She drawled the last word with Cajun flair, making Erin realize they’d come from different walks of life in Louisiana. While Sarah had a Southern lilt to her voice that sounded different than the Heartache locals, it also didn’t sound like Remy’s thicker drawl.
“I wanted a better life than fishing could provide.” He reached for the corkscrew and went about opening the wine.
His clipped answer made Erin realize how little she knew about him outside his history with his wife.
“Did you always know you wanted to go into TV production?” she asked, sneaking a peek at the recipe Sarah had open on the digital tablet she’d propped against the flour canister.
Grabbing the fruit while Sarah was busy putting together what looked like a quiche, Erin washed and sliced the berries for the strawberry salad recipe.
“No.”
“Dad was a photographer.” Sarah whisked eggs and chopped veggies as if she’d done it a hundred times before.
Remy helped a little, but it was clear he deferred to his daughter’s cooking wisdom, tackling the jobs she assigned, like slicing tomatoes and grating fresh mozzarella cheese.
“What made you change fields?” Erin found a big bowl for the strawberries and added mandarin oranges.
“I just followed the opportunities that came up,” he replied with a shrug.
“Mom always said it would have been hard to have two artists in the family, although I never understood why.” Sarah slid the quiche into the oven. Then, noticing that Erin had assembled the salad, she beamed. “Erin! You didn’t have to do all that.”
“Happy to help. The recipe looks great.” She tried to piece together Remy’s creative roots while the teen cleaned up the kitchen. Had his wife really discouraged his photography career because there couldn’t be two artists in a family?
Erin wondered why Liv had thought that? Did two similar temperaments clash? Or would two artists mean too little income?
