Tom Parker had chosen the right side of London’s ultimatum upon returning to Nashville. TheChef’s Specialfinale had apparently been the wake-up call he needed, and he was working on atonement. Things were still awkward, at times, but London was feeling good about it, so Dahlia tried to be supportive. Meaning, she smiled at their dad now when they were all together. Sometimes.
But if he showed his true colors without the pressure of London being in the same room, Dahlia was prepared to awaken the lioness.
When the computer loaded, Dahlia opened the draft of her review of the new barbecue place in Germantown. She read approximately two sentences before her brain wentpppfffffttt. No thank you.
Dahlia pushed back from the chair. New plan.
Sustenance first.
She padded into the kitchen over the hardwood floors. She knew they had a decent amount of assorted leftover veggies, and London got the prettiest local eggs each week from the co-op. And, she remembered as she opened the fridge, London had picked up that fresh bacon this week, too.
Damn. This was going to be a good frittata.
Dahlia heaved the cast iron skillet onto the stove.
She wondered if London was at the airport yet. If they were listening to music and letting themself relax.
Her heart felt back to normal as she assembled ingredients. She was especially looking forward, she realized, to cooking by herself this weekend. Dahlia loved cooking with London. But she had missed this, too.
She put on some music, already starting to sway her hips to it as she worked. She studied the food in front of her. Started to plan her building blocks.
There was something essential missing, though.
Dahlia opened the fridge again and rummaged through the vegetable drawer. Ah, there. All the way in the back. She grabbed the onion and brought it over to the cutting board, its papery skin already starting to unravel.
And then she picked up her knife.
