Kate smiled, her eyes softening. “I love babies. Always have. I wish I’d had more, but I also wanted to research everything Cornell could throw my way.” She looked down at the baby. “Goodness, he’s special.”
Jonah nodded, then shifted on the sofa, wanting to take advantage of this quiet and intimate moment.
“Listen, Kate. Thank you. For everything.”
She regarded him, her expression softening. “I don’t need thanks.”
“But you should get them. If it weren’t for you, we both know I’d have never even thought about being a chef, let alone apply to that program. But more than that, you showed up and made things feel…better. Safe. I don’t know—just good.”
“Oh, honey.” Her shoulders dropped as if she actually felt the weight of his words. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yeah, I do.” He paused. “I know you and my dad are, you know, getting serious, so…”
She gave a short laugh. “Jonah, I’m not applying to be your stepmother.”
“I know.” He smiled, then looked at his cup. “But I’m not weird about it, if that’s what you were wondering. I get it. My dad hasn’t looked this…alive in a long time. I don’t think I ever saw him this way, even when I was a kid.”
Kate didn’t respond right away. Then, softly, she said, “From what I’ve heard, your mom was wonderful.”
He nodded. “She was…everything. I know she’d want Dad to be happy—she wanted everyone to be happy. Honestly, I think he finally is.”
“I’m not trying to replace her,” Kate said gently. “No one ever could. I understand. But I’m here. And I’m glad to be in your life. You and your whole family.”
He nodded again, unspoken words catching in his throat.
“Now,” she added, tone shifting to bright and practical, “let’s talk about this culinary program.”
He groaned. “Do we have to?”
“Yes. Because it starts soon, and you haven’t really mentioned it or gone out to buy the knives you need or done anything in the way of preparation.”
“I’m not really a ‘preparer.’ That’s my sister’s job. Speaking of Meredith, didn’t she leave Atlanta at the crack of dawn today? She should be?—”
“Don’t change the subject, Jonah.”
He shuttered his eyes and fell back on the sofa cushions. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said.
“Decided?” Kate blinked. “What’s to decide? You got accepted into the program, it starts next week, and you need chef’s knives and some good aprons.”
He shook his head. “I have a baby. And a pile of emotions that hit me like a train every morning. And I don’t sleep. And I keep thinking…” He hesitated and looked away.
“What?”
“I’m cursed.”
Kate straightened, pressing Atlas into her chest. “Jonah.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are, and that’s what worries me. Cursed! Please. The concept is so supernatural, it hurts me to think anyone as intelligent as you would even consider it.”
He looked up, defensive. “I’m not talking about voodoo dolls and hexes. But how do you explain it? My mom dies in a freak plane accident when I’m a kid. I flail through high school. I fall in love with someone who makes me feel like I can build a life—and she dies three weeks after having our baby. What else am I supposed to think?”
Kate repositioned Atlas with the grace and ease of a practiced mother, cradling him as she seemed to gather her thoughts before answering.
“Here’s what that means,” she finally said. “Life is random. Tragedies don’t follow a logic pattern or moral code. Your situation doesn’t mean you’re cursed. It means you’re human, and bad things happen sometimes.”
“Twice? To the same person?”
