“So am I. You’ll help me, won’t you? I must confess, some of this seems very new to me.”
“It’s all right. You’ll figure it out. Coming to the States was a big change for me, too. But I managed. And you’re more capable than I am. Always have been. And of course I’ll help you.” Joyce loved Beryl. There was nothing so wonderful as the bond between sisters. It was one of the reasons she’d taken to Harper and Frankie.
Wasn’t that something now? Two sets of sisters living next door to each other. Joyce smiled at the balance of that. It made her feel as if Beryl’s being here had been destined in some way.
Not that she was the superstitious kind. She used the pasta fork to lift a few strands of spaghetti from the pot, then pinched one up and took a bite. “Done.”
Beryl handed Joyce the mitts to protect her hands and Joyce slipped them on. She grabbed up the pot, carried it to the sink, and drained the pasta into the strainer. She gave it a quick shake and dumped it back into the pot.
Behind her, Beryl was ready with the pan of sauce. “A nice bowl of spaghetti Bolognese andEastEnders. We’re living the life, aren’t we, Joycie?”
Joyce laughed, properly happy in a way that felt incomparable. “We sure are, Berry. We sure are.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Ladies, dinner is ready!” Jack’s voice rang out from the kitchen.
Harper put her phone down and ruffled Archie’s fur. “Come on, baby dog. Time to eat.” She glanced at her sister, who was working on her laptop. “You coming, Frankie?”
Frankie nodded. “Just a sec. Need to save this.” She tapped a couple of keys before standing up. “All done. Let’s eat. It smells great.”
“It does.”
They went into the kitchen, Archie running ahead of them.
The table was set, and four beautifully presented plates sat waiting. Each one had a seared filet, four shrimp with some kind of sauce, and a little mound of green beans. In the center of the table was a large bowl filled with a delicious-looking salad. Next to it was a smaller bowl that held vinaigrette, a spoon at the ready for serving.
“This looks like a restaurant meal,” Harper said.
Willa stood nearby, grinning for all she was worth. “Jack made it all, except for the salad and the dressing. I did both of those. It’s got walnuts, apple chunks, and blue cheese. Jack told me what to put in the vinaigrette.”
“You both did great work,” Frankie said. “I am so ready to eat.”
“Willa also helped with prep.” Jack pulled a bottle of wine from the cooler. “You ladies want a glass?”
Harper narrowed her eyes at him.
He shook his head, clearly understanding what was going through her mind. “I’m not having any, but it won’t bother me if you do. Totally cool with me, I swear.”
“I’m good,” she said. “Frankie?”
“No, I’m fine with water, thanks.”
Willa quickly filled glasses with ice water and brought them to the table.
They all took a seat in front of a plate, two on each side. Jack sat beside Harper. Archie went to the couch, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything from the table.
Harper raised her glass. “Here’s to Jack for providing most of this dinner, for cooking it, and to Willa for helping prepare it.”
“Here, here,” Frankie said, glass raised.
“You’re most welcome.” Jack bowed his head graciously before picking up his glass. “Here’s to all of you for putting up with me and the aggravation I’ve brought with me. Man, I am so sorry about that.”
Harper sipped her water, as did Willa and Frankie. “You didn’t bring those paparazzi. They found you. You can’t help your celebrity status.”
He sighed. “Sometimes, man, it feels like more trouble than it’s worth.”
Willa helped herself to salad, then passed the bowl to her mom, and picked up the vinaigrette. “What would you have done if you hadn’t gone into acting?”
