Still, the thought of Carlisle and Grace being in Merry’s home was bittersweet. She’d have given anything to spend one more day with Ray, one last chance to hold the man she loved and tell him how much she’d treasured their life together.
With Carlisle, she knew in advance she would lose him.
In the meantime, she could help Carlisle set up a home for his daughter, a place where they could build happy memories. He’d told Merry a little about his life in London, but it didn’t tell her about his tastes in things like dishes. What kind would he want to buy? Would he be satisfied with typical middle-class things, or would he need the super expensive stuff? Would his business associates think less of Carlisle if he played it cheap, relatively speaking?
She’d attended a handful of high-class events with her mother after Ray and her father had died. Carlisle didn’t act like those people, so it was easy to forget he was one of them.
“I’m hungry, Mama,” Alex said with a touch of whine to his voice.
“Good. You can help me make the sandwiches. I’ll bet Grace is hungry too.” She pulled into the garage. As the door closed behind her, Carlisle’s Land Rover parked in the driveway. “Can you run and unlock the front door for them?”
“Okay.” Alex hopped from the car and ran into the house, shedding his coat as he ran.
Merry picked it up and put it and hers on a hook near the front door, which Alex had left wide open. She closed but didn’t latch it and hurried into the kitchen. By the time she heard them coming in the door, she was pulling out a pot.
“Alex, show them where the coat closet is,” she called.
Merry collected a large bottle of sauce, a can of condensed milk, and a can of diced tomatoes. She quickly opened them and poured them into the pot. After adding a few spices and stirring the mixture, she set it to simmer. Taking a deep breath, she went to check on her guests.
When she entered the living room, she paused. Taking her own advice, Merry paused to enjoy the scene before her. She took the time to memorize the mental picture with the children kneeling by the coffee table where Alex had set up a different Lego set.
Carlisle’s gaze met hers over the heads of the children. His soft smile warmed her heart. Merry was grateful to know him.
Don’t be sad something will end. Be happy it happened.
“Alex, I thought you were going to help me make the sandwiches,” she said.
“Aww, Mama,” he whined. “I want to show Grace.”
“I’d be happy to help, though you’ll have to tell me what to do.” Carlisle indicated her wall of family pictures. He pointed to the last photo taken of the entire extended family the summer before Ray and her father had died. “You’re fortunate to be part of such a loving family.”
Merry stepped beside him. The longing in his voice and the way he absently rubbed his chest over his heart, brought an ache to her throat. She found she didn’t resent that he could afford expensive things. It hadn’t bought him what she had—the knowledge that she’d always been loved and wanted.
“And I’ve only recently realized just how fortunate,” she said
Carlisle looked at Merry, and the longing in his eyes about undid her.
“I need to check on the soup and get going on the sandwiches.” She hurried to the kitchen. Did he have any idea how much he unnerved her?
Merry pulled out the masher and used it to break up the diced tomatoes in the pot. The sound of Carlisle’s shoes on the floor announced his arrival.
“You’ll find the griddle on the bottom shelf of the pantry.” She pointed toward the door but didn’t look up. “Be sure to grab the cord.”
Merry retrieved the cheese and butter to the sound of him rummaging through the pantry.
“I’m still getting used to American electronics,” he said coming out. “Do these belong together?”
She glanced up then and couldn’t help smiling.
“You’ve got the cord for my electric skillet. You need the other cord.”
While he retrieved and assembled the griddle, Merry settled a squabble between the children.
“Set it to four hundred.” She arranged the sandwich makings in an assembly line. “Have you ever made grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“No.”
Merry frowned at his nice slacks. “Hang on.” She got an apron from the pantry and put it over his head. “Be glad it doesn’t have frills.”
