Chapter 15
fifteen
PAUL
Standing in the doorway, I stared at the most incredible kitchen I'd ever seen.
This wasn't what most people had in their homes. With its marble counter, Sub-Zero refrigerators, and triple ovens, it was the kind of kitchen any chef would be pleased to own.
"What can you see?" Amy asked from behind me.
I stepped inside the room. "A beautiful kitchen." Running my fingers along the cool marble counter was like touching silk. There were so many cupboards that I wondered what could possibly be inside them.
"Wow. Look at this." Amy disappeared inside the butler's pantry.
When I peeked around the edge of the doorframe, my mouth dropped open. The pantry was as large as our spare bedroom. Two more sinks, a microwave, and two dishwashers weren't the only things that made me sigh.
The person who lived here loved baking as much as I did. Rows of brightly colored jars lined the open shelves. Preserved cherries, peaches, pears, and apricots filled one side of the pantry. On the wall opposite were rows of jams and chutneys. I could have stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the night, admiring what the owner had done.
Amy pointed to a bright pink jar. "What's in there?"
I read the label. "It's pink guava jam."
"What does it taste like?"
"I don't know, but it looks pretty."
"Can we make jam sandwiches?"
We'd had dinner before we left, but Amy was so busy looking at the people around us that she hadn't eaten much. "Are you still hungry?"
Amy nodded. "I've got a rumbly tummy."
"In that case, we'll look in the kitchen to see if there's an open jar of jam."
Amy rushed out of the pantry. "I can see straight into the fridge."
"Don't open the door until I get there. There could be things that will spill."
"I won't touch anything." Amy stood on her tiptoes. "I can't see any jam."
One side of each refrigerator was glass. It was almost as if someone had read my mind and brought my dream kitchen to life.
With more than a little kitchen envy, I opened one of the doors and peered along the shelves. The only jam I found was made from cherries. The next refrigerator didn't have any at all. "You could have a cherry sandwich," I said to Amy. "It's a lovely shade of red."
"Have you found what you need?"
I caught my breath. I was so focused on Amy that I hadn't heard Liam come into the room. "You gave me a fright."
"Sorry. Do you like the kitchen? "
Putting into words how I felt was hopeless. The kitchen was everything I'd ever wanted. "This is the most amazing kitchen I've ever seen. I can't believe your friend let us stay here. He could rent his house as a vacation home to the rich and famous."
"He prefers to know who's staying here."
"But he doesn't know Amy and me."
Liam turned on the coffeepot. "But Jacob knows me. I'll make sure you don't have any wild parties."
I hadn't expected Liam to stay with us the whole time. "You thought we might be here until Christmas. Are you sure you can stay that long?"
"I'm not going anywhere until we know you're safe."
His words sent a comforting warmth through me. There was something about Liam that made me feel secure, and that was a rare feeling. The way he moved, the confidence in his eyes, everything about him exuded a quiet strength.
Amy tugged the edge of my sweater. "Could I please have a jam sandwich?"
"If we can find a loaf of bread, you can."
Liam opened a cupboard door. "The bread's usually in here." He pulled out a loaf and smiled. "Jacob asked someone to restock the pantry."
I opened the plastic bag and took out two slices of bread. "We'll have to figure out some kind of rent for letting us stay here."
"That won't be necessary. Jacob's been in a few tricky situations as well. He was happy to help."
I didn't want to freeload off one of his friends. "I really want to pay something toward our living expenses, but we can talk about it tomorrow. Would you like a jam sandwich? "
"Why don't you sit down. I can make us something to eat."
"I'm okay. All I need to do is?—"
Liam took the bread out of my hands and pointed to a kitchen stool. "Sit. Amy and I can make the sandwiches."
Amy was practically jumping up and down. "Yes, please. I love making things."
I looked at the excitement on Amy's face, the stubborn gleam in Liam's eyes. I was outnumbered and outvoted, so I sat on the stool.
"Did you see that?" Liam said in a surprised whisper to Amy. "Your uncle didn't disagree with me."
"That's 'cos he's a nice person."
"A nice person with perfectly good hearing," I said sweetly.
Amy lifted her arms in the air as Liam tied an apron around her waist. "Did you know our neighbor's ninety-two years old? She wears a hearing aid 'cos her ears don't work too good."
Liam's amused gaze connected with mine. "Your uncle has a long way to go before he has to worry about hearing aids."
I sighed. If I wasn't beaten, bruised, and waiting for a jam sandwich, I might have smiled.