“College tuition,” he continued, oblivious to her growing panic, “rent, dental insurance. A fresh start.”
Libby lowered the hand she’d unconsciously raised to hide her less-than-perfect teeth. “You want to give me money?”
He nodded eagerly, pleased with her quickness on the uptake.
“Why?” Somehow she doubted he was running a secret scholarship fund for underachieving twentysomethings.
“In exchange for one small favor.” The pinching motion that accompanied these words did nothing to dispel Libby’s fears.
“Which is what, exactly?”
He held up his left hand, fingers waggling as if they were in a martial arts movie and he’d paused for some mid-fight taunting. Libby doubted Mr. L was saying,Come at me, bro.She shook her head, giving up.
“Marrying me.” He whipped out a silk hankie, offering it to Libby for her inevitable tears of joy.
Chapter 10
lovelillibetDo you know what I like to label? Spices. When we came home from a month in Bali, I spent a meditative weekend making decorative sachets for the star anise and cardamom we were able to source directly from local farmers.
Proper naming and storage is the right thing to do for heirloom vanilla pods, but it won’t work for relationships. Let your personal ties evolve and coalesce, without the pressure of labels.
Love, Lillibet
Image: Ground spices in shades of umber, ocher, and sienna, layered like a sunset on a bamboo cutting board.
#flavoryourworld #thespiceislife #artiseverywhere
The discovery that their shower had a summer storm setting (complete with rumbling thunder) could only distract Hildy for so long.
“So they’re swingers? I had my suspicions.”
“What?”
“The Lillibets. Pretty sure that relationship is all the way open.” She waved at the door through which their hostess and her husband had disappeared. “Hence the allegedchef.Probably the so-called housekeeper, too.” Hildy settled onto the edge ofthe vanity, tapping her lip as she thought out loud. “Gives new meaning to the term live-in help, if you feel me.”
Jefferson had to admit that the woman who’d been introduced to them as Lillibet’s housekeeper didn’t seem particularly concerned with anything that fell under the “keeping house” umbrella.
“She’s always been cagey about her husband,” Hildy said, as though piecing together clues. “Like he’s semi-part of her brand but she’s really a solo act. I always wonder in cases like that if it’s about respecting the other person’s privacy or a sign of cracks in the foundation. Don’t you?”
“Can’t say that I do.” The lack of agreement didn’t slow Hildy down.
“Although it’s not as bad as the ones who are all,I love my husband sooooo much, he’s so sweet and handsome and perfect, here we are on date night,and it’s like, mmmkay, you’re definitely having an affair. Total overcompensation.” She pretended to turn a dial. “Set the timer for the divorce announcement.”
“You think those two are splitting up?” He could have kicked himself for asking, even before Hildy snorted in triumph.
“I knew it. You think she’s pretty.”
“Not what I said.”
“Listen, I ship it,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, picking up a decorative soap and sniffing it. “You’re both kind of light-haired and lanky, but nottoosimilar-looking, to the point where it’s creepy. You ever see one of those couples that one hundred percent look like siblings?” She gave a theatrical shudder.
“Hildy.”
“I know.” She held up a hand. “You’re on the rebound, a vacation romance is super-fun even when you’re not stuck in the Sahara of dry spells—which we both know you are—and she’s empirically smokin’.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Whatever they called it in your day. Foxy. Babelicious. I don’t know.”
