Only two plates. She looked from the plates to him and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “Sorry, Gianna ran off to go shopping with Caroline.” His mouth closed abruptly, as if there was more to that story.
Or maybe he realized how it sounded. Obviously, Gianna wasn’t that interested in meeting her. Elsie would not allow herself to be offended by that. Who knew how little Gianna even knew of her. Maybe she wanted to give them some alone time. No, that possibility was too awesomely terrifying to consider. She couldn’t let her mind go there either.
“Can I help with anything?” She put her purse on the back of a stool and clasped her hands together.
“Oh, yes. There’s lemonade in the fridge. Would you bring it over?”
She got out an elegant glass pitcher filled with what looked like fresh-squeezed lemonade. Lemon slices were floating on top. She wondered if Gianna had prepared this too.
“We have two lemon trees outside that overproduce this time of year. You should take some home with you.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lip. He was being so polite. She kind of missed the Will with the flashing eyes, the one who told her she had soda all down her shirt. Or the one who had grabbed her up and kissed her in the library. Now that image was tap dancing across her consciousness while Will served her rice and stir-fry. She met his eyes and prayed he had no mind-reading powers.
“Is that enough?”
She stared down at her plate. “Yes. It’s perfect.” She picked up her fork and took a bite. Wonderful, though she barely registered it. Her mind couldn’t be bothered with trivial things like swallowing or breathing normally.
She reached for the pitcher and carefully poured herself a glass. “Would you like some?”
He nodded.
The pitcher was heavy, and to be honest, clunky. She regretted her offer as soon as she had the thing hovering over his glass. She poured slowly and the first ounce or two went in fine, but then a lemon slice blocked up the spout for a second, and when it moved, lemonade gushed out, missing the glass and spilling across the table and straight onto his lap.
He yelped in surprise and jumped out of his chair.
Elsie put down the pitcher and scooted out, running for a kitchen towel that was sitting on the counter. “Oh, Will. I’m so sorry.” Her stomach clenched, and she held out the towel to him, afraid to meet his eyes. It looked like he’d wet his pants.
He took the towel and brushed off his slacks, while she went back, searching the drawers until she found the washcloths. She wet one in the sink and began cleaning off the table. Almost all the lemonade had made it onto his pants. There wasn’t even much on the floor. She so needed to go home and pretend she’d never met him.
“Elsie, it’s okay.” Will put the towel down next to her and touched her arm. She turned to look at him, expecting to see annoyance, but he only looked amused.
“Sit and eat. I’m going to change. I’m overdressed anyway.”
It was true. With his slacks and button-down crisp shirt, he made her jeans and T-shirt seem grungy.
His hand didn’t move from her arm. “That came out wrong. You look nice. You always do. I just feel like I’m ready for a computer programming convention. All I need is my pocket protector.”
She stared at him in shock.
“That was a joke, Elsie.”
“I know.”
“Next time, I’ll think up a better one.”
Before she could think of a rebuttal, he walked out, only slightly waddling on his way. Great, now he thought she didn’t find him funny, and she’d probably ruined five hundred dollar pants. She grabbed up the washrag and rinsed it out, adding dish soap while waiting for the water to warm. That lemonade would turn everything into a sticky mess. There was no way she’d sit back down until every drip was accounted for.
***
So, this was going well. Will laughed to himself as he peeled off his slacks. He should have taken the pitcher out of her hands. He knew she was struggling with it. But he didn’t want to come off as a control freak so he’d let her continue … to pour lemonade all over the place.
Would they ever find a way to just be themselves? He unbuttoned his shirt and placed it back on a hanger. He’d only worn it for thirty minutes and the lemonade miraculously hadn’t touched it. After changing, he jogged downstairs. Elsie was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. He didn’t want to embarrass her further, so he waited until she got up to rinse the rag again. He should have cleaned up with her before going to change. He should have told her how much Gianna wanted to meet her. He should have complimented her on how she looked when she first walked in.
Regrets would not help this situation though, so he came in and they ate their now cold food.
“You want a tour of the house?” he asked when she was done eating. He took their plates to the sink and led the way. There were a lot of rooms they rarely used anymore. Mostly extra bedrooms and bathrooms. A maid came once a week to clean and dust. It was way more than Gianna could maintain on her own, no matter how much she wanted to.
After taking her through most of the house, they picked lemons in the backyard, and she put a bag of them by her purse in the kitchen.
