Rex sat closely by her on one side of the table, and his mom took a seat across from them. Mom and son sipped their coffee, seemingly unconcerned that they were well past a normal dinner hour. Monica was used to late meals, but not the casual pace. Alone with Rex it hadn’t mattered, she’d treasured it, but in the presence of Stella, it made Monica antsy.
His mom broke the silence. “Lacey speaks highly of you. I’m assuming you are the same Monica, yes?”
“I am.”
“Thank you for looking after my niece. I’m glad to finally have a chance to meet you officially.”
“I was only doing my job,” Monica said, uncomfortable with the conversation. “Wait, officially? Have we met before?”
Stella darted a glance at her son, who gave a barely perceptible nod. “I spent hours in your hospital room praying for you while Lacey recovered.”
“Seems I had many visitors I didn’t know about.”
Understanding of Monica’s discomfort reflected in Stella’s eyes, and she turned her attention to Rex. “Tell me, son, how did you convince this lovely woman to attach herself to you?”
“I turned on my charm.” Rex winked and his lips curled up.
“You never were one for modesty.” Stella shook her head and laughed.
Rex sobered, stiffening in his chair and clenched his mug tightly. “I’m really sorry for the last few months, Mom. I’ve been a pretty poor excuse for a man but that’s all over now. And no more drinking, I promise.”
Stella raised her eyebrows in obvious doubt of his last statement.
“It’s true.” He made a motion of crossing his heart. “Lucas and I made an agreement. No more.”
“We all make mistakes, often with the best of intentions in mind. What’s important is that we learn from them and move on. I always knew you just needed to find the right woman to tame you.” Stella sent a conspiring wink toward Monica. “Would you like to help with dinner?”
Monica, who had been silent during the mother and son exchange, nodded. “I’d love to.”
“Good. Rex, why don’t you fix that shelf in the closet you’ve been promising to take care of, while us girls start dinner.”
Rex glanced at her for approval, seeking confirmation that she’d be okay alone with his mom. To her own surprise, she felt no apprehension at spending time alone with his mother, and she waved him away.
He walked away, giving them a backward glance as though he hated leaving her. She nodded her chin, affirming again that she’d be fine. If he were any other man, she’d be annoyed at his protectiveness, but she knew from Rex that it came from a place of caring, and she cherished that.
Stella stood from the table, motioning for her to come with. “How are you in the kitchen?”
“I’ve spent many hours in the kitchen with my mom. I haven’t cooked often in the past few years, but I can make a decent meal.”
“Good, let’s get busy.” Stella pulled two cast iron skillets from the cabinet and set them on the stove to heat.
“I haven’t used cast iron since my grandma died,” Monica confessed. “She made the best fried potatoes in them, and I’ve tried many times to replicate them but never quite got them right.”
“It’s all in the pan. We’ll make pork chops in one. I’d planned to make some rice and gravy, but let’s make fried potatoes instead.” Stella replaced a cannister of rice against the backsplash. “Do you remember your grandma’s recipe?”
Excitement welled up in Monica. She could have hugged Stella. Even if the potatoes didn’t turn out, she appreciated the gesture. “Yes, I do.”
After pulling two cutting boards from a drawer, Stella went to the pantry and returned with an onion and several potatoes. She set them on the counter, then retrieved a bell pepper from the crisper drawer. Monica accepted the paring knife handed to her, and she chopped in sync with Stella, dicing the vegetables into tiny pieces.
“Were you and your grandma close?” Stella dumped the veggies into the oiled skillet.
Fond memories surfaced. “Very. She passed when I was only nine, but most of my summers were spent at her house until that point. Her house was right down the street from mine, so it was more of a second home.”
Stella nodded in approval. “Do you have any siblings?”
“One sister, Carrie. She’s married and pregnant with her first child, a little girl due in late November. There was an older brother, Tommy, but he passed when I was only three.” Where had that come from? She’d never even confided that to anyone, except Rex.
“I lost a brother, too, when I was very little. Everyone assumes you won’t remember him because you were so young, and they expect you to move on and forget him. But the memories never leave you, do they?”
