‘It’s obvious that things have changed since we were last here,’ she went on. ‘That both of the boys are into you. Which means that no matter what happens, no matter who you choose,someone’sgoing to be upset. Especially if you apply your famously Molly-like decision-making powers to this whole situation.’
‘Ouch,’ I said.
‘I’m just saying … Maybe the Lara approach is the best one. Choose no one. Just yourself.’
A gust of magical wind picked up, and Josephine’s diary flipped open on my lap, opening to the blank pages at the end. Josephine was trying to tell me something. But what?
Chapter 15
RECIPE FOR ROMANCE
When I came back inside, Rosie was frowning over Bertha, her moth orchid. One of the earliest members of the plant collection that Rosie had dubbed the Sisterhood of the Travelling Plants, she was a stunning pink specimen that had lived in the reading room for at least a decade, and whose offshoots Rosie had carefully propagated. She gave them as gifts, and roughly half of the cove now boasted a Bertha of their own.
‘Poor Bertha’s not doing well,’ she said, drumming her nails against the counter. Mom had worked her manicure magic on them, I saw – they were a sparkling bluish green, like the ocean.
There was a hitch in Rosie’s voice, and I could tell she was struggling to keep it together.
‘Everything’s going awry at the moment,’ she said, reaching for her cup of tea. It was empty, and she sighed.
‘Here. Let me brew you another.’ Setting the kettle to boil, I gathered her favourite mountain-rose loose-leaf blend in a strainer. I frowned, noticing that yesterday’s wilt-proof zinnias were also looking worse for wear.
‘I’m starting to feel like this house is cursed,’ she said glumly, following her gaze. ‘My marshmallows didn’t set. My wallpaper’s crooked! And now Bertha is dropping her flowers.’
I put the steeping tea in front of her. ‘I think you mightjust need a break, Rosie. You’ve been working around the clock looking after us and working on the house. Why don’t you take the afternoon off. Go for a hike with Mom or drive into town for a movie or something. I’ll sort out dinner for you. If you don’t mind a late one.’
Rosie hesitated. ‘That sounds lovely, hon, but …’
I popped my hands on my hips in an impression of Mom. ‘I’m going to channel my inner Amelia and tell you that I’m not taking no for an answer. And you know how against my nature it is to be decisive, so you must know I mean it.’
Rosie cupped her hands around her teacup, a beautiful gold-rimmed one with a bird motif that Keiko had made for her birthday a few years back.
‘All right,’ she relented. ‘You’re right. An afternoon off will do me good. Maybe I’ll drop in at the Bloom Family Farm. I’ve been meaning to stroll through their Sunflower Maze, but life keeps getting in the way. You should make sure you visit while you’re here. It’s always a good time. Let me see if I can get your mom off her emails.’
As Rosie disappeared down the hallway, I busied myself browsing through her formidable recipe-book collection. Everything looked so delicious, and so … complicated. I wished I’d spent more time honing my cooking skills instead of returning to the same few one-pan recipes over and over. (But how could a girl say no to spiced baked eggs?)
A half-hour or so later, Mom and Rosie emerged, dressed in casual beachy attire and clutching sunhats.
‘Dressed to impress, I see.’ I fanned myself as though I were about to swoon.
‘Always,’ said Mom. The two of them posed for a selfie, which Mom then sent to Dad, adding an embarrassing number of emojis.
I was about to tease her for being a boomer, but she was frowning at her phone, which had practically exploded with email notifications.
‘You can always turn notifications off, you know,’ I reminded her.
‘But why?’ She looked at me as though I were mad.
Well, I’d tried.
‘You two go have fun,’ I said, ushering them towards the door. ‘I’ll have dinner ready and waiting when you get back.’
‘We’ll leave you the golf cart just in case,’ teased Rosie, using her magic to make the keys on the counter gleam. ‘Try not to get involved in a high-speed chase.’
I laughed at the thought. ‘I’ll do my best.’
They headed off in Rosie’s vintage car, presumably to one of the walking trails that wound around the cove, giving you endless vantage points of the ocean and the forest that ran along its edge. Not to mention front-row seats to the whisperwinds.
I continued leafing through the recipe books, getting so lost in images of poached pears and baked rainbow trout that I didn’t notice Noah come in until he perched on the counter next to where I was standing.
