She dug back in the purse. “I also wanted to bring you this. It’s a collection of all our family recipes, including all the ones from Nanna and Grandma Sylvia.”
Now this Piper could show genuine pleasure over. She pounced on the box in excitement. “Does this include Nanna’s recipe for Beef Concern?”
“It does.”
Piper had been trying to duplicate the casserole for years, but her grandmother had held on to some secret ingredient. Getting the full recipe was a rite of passage in her family. “Thank you!” Piper hugged her.
Her mother’s pleased expression shifted to mild exasperation as she pulled back and looked into Piper’s face. “Heavens. Did you put on any makeup this morning?”
And we’re back to the norm. “That was quite a few hours ago, Mom.”
Twyla stepped back and picked up her purse. “You ought to freshen up before Myles gets home. And maybe put on something other than your scrubs. You smell like antiseptic.”
Piper sighed. She didn’t have the energy for this fight today. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once her mother was safely out the door, Piper opened the recipe box and began flipping through, looking for the one she wanted. Plucking it out, she skimmed over the ingredient list. Miracle of miracles, they actually had everything on hand, so she set about pulling the casserole together for supper. Not because she thought Myles was Ward Cleaver but because she’d had a crap day and she wanted comfort food. Once it was safely in the oven, she did go shower and change—for herself, not because she thought Myles cared—then summoned some determination to empty a few more boxes.
“Piper?”
“Back here!” she called. She’d just finished up putting the last of her paperbacks onto the bookcase they’d moved into the guest room when he stuck his head through the door.
“Something smells amazing, other than you.” He tugged her up off the floor and into a warm kiss that untangled some of the knots of stress from the day.
“It’s Beef Concern.”
Myles made a comical face. “Should I be concerned?”
“It’s just called Beef Concern. I don’t know why. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I guess because it’s the casserole she makes whenever she’s concerned about somebody.”
“Are you concerned about somebody?”
She started to mention the seemingly endless string of non-compliant patients, who’d decided to take attitude and blame their lack of responsibility on her, which had left her waspish and hangry. But then she stopped herself. “I just wanted some comfort food and I figured you’d appreciate a meal that wasn’t take out after all the hours you’d been putting in.”
He beamed at her. “You are the sweetest thing. I’ve been looking forward to coming home to this smile all day.” He kissed her again, but Piper’s mind was circling back to her mother’s questionable advice.
“How long until dinner?” Myles wanted to know.
“Maybe another twenty minutes. I was going to unpack a few more boxes.”
“Well you could do that,” he conceded. “Or we could put that time to other use.”
As it was exactly what she’d wanted when she got home, Piper wasn’t about to say no to that. “That, Mr. Stewart, is an excellent idea.”
Chapter 12
“Omar sent po-boys.”
Myles pulled his brain out of the inDesign template as Simone set a bag of takeout on the edge of his desk. The scent of grease and spice wafting from the containers had his mouth watering and his stomach rumbling. A clear reminder that he hadn’t had more than a pack of crackers from his drawer for lunch.
“I figured you weren’t leaving any time soon, so I’d better put food in front of you before you keeled over.”
He took off his reading glasses and tossed them next to his keyboard. Stubble rasped against his palms as he rubbed both hand
s over his face. “What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
He hadn’t even noticed when the rest of his staff left the office. “I need to call Piper and tell her not to wait dinner on me.”