“Steal my wine again,” Paige said pleasantly, “and you’ll soon find out how to live without them.”
Twenty
Happy-ever-afters are like people. Each is unique.
—Eva
Romano’s was crowded with people and Eva dragged her misery to the kitchen to help Jake’s mother, Maria. They’d decided on a set menu to make it easier to cater for large numbers and as Eva had helped design it, she didn’t need briefing. Maria had suggested she sit down and enjoy the meal with her friends, but in any case, Eva was grateful for anything that took her mind off Lucas.
If it hadn’t been Christmas she would happily have spent the day in bed with her head under the covers.
If her grandmother had been alive, she would have gone to her and told her everything and Grams would have managed to make her feel better, and stronger, about everything.
As it was, she had to do it on her own. She felt bone weary and perilously close to tears.
It was going to be another Christmas where she had to struggle to make it through the day without breaking down.
What was Lucas doing? Was he on his own or had he at least joined his grandmother?
“How are you doing, honey?” Maria’s cheeks were flushed from the heat of the oven and the fact that she’d been rushing around the kitchen for several hours already.
“Doing great.” Eva caught Maria’s eye. “Okay, not so great. Part of me, the stupid dreamy part, thought Lucas cared. I really believed that.”
“Perhaps he did.”
“Not enough.” Eva picked up a bulb of garlic. “And who falls in love after a month? That’s crazy, right?”
“Is it?”
“Paige and Jake have known each other forever, and so have Frankie and Matt.”
“There’s more than one way to fall in love, honey, and it sounds as if you and Lucas had a connection.”
“We did.” Listless, Eva stared at the garlic in her hand. “I told him things. He told me things. I guess I thought—” She broke off. “Never mind. I’ll get over him.”
“Don’t cry. It’s important that you don’t have red eyes today.”
“I know, it’s Christmas and I mustn’t ruin anyone’s day.”
“It’s your day I’m thinking of.” Maria took the garlic from her. “I know you. You’re going to want to look your best. Go and put some lipstick on.”
“Why?” Eva was bemused. “I don’t think a side of beef and a tray of roast potatoes is going to care if I’m wearing lipstick.” Everyone around her seemed excited and energized. It made her struggle even harder.
“You’ll be glad you’ve done it.” Maria leaned in and gave her a big hug. “Your grandmother would be so, so proud of you, honey. And now we need to get the beef out of the oven or it will be charred.”
Eva didn’t think her grandmother would be proud to see her dripping around the kitchen like a raincloud, but she said nothing and focused on the cooking. For her, working in the kitchen was a type of therapy. She sliced, chopped and sautéed with her mind on automatic.
Maria’s kitchen was a well-oiled machine, and she slotted in easily and found the routine soothing. She didn’t have to think too much.
“Ev?” Frankie appeared in the doorway and exchanged knowing looks with Maria. “Can you come out here? We have something for you.”
“Can it wait? I’m serving lunch for eighty and I have beef—and pie.” She was proud that she sounded strong, even though she didn’t feel it. She removed a tray of sizzling potatoes from the oven. “I thought we were doing presents later.”
“This present isn’t something you can wrap.” Frankie’s voice sounded strange. Somewhere between smug and excited. “You’re going to be pleased.”
“There’s nothing I really want.”
“Will you get out here and stop arguing?” Frankie glared at her. “I am no good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”