“Is that right? I’ve never really noticed before.”
Meg twisted away from the watchful eyes of Val and dropped her towel on the counter. “I should wake your mom.”
“I’ll get her,” Gabi said. “You two . . . carry on.”
Meg waved an accusing finger Val’s way the moment they were alone. “I’m supposed to be here with Michael.”
“And yet you’re not.”
“A fact that shouldn’t be advertised. Why do you think we’re here?”
“You needn’t worry about Gabi. She’d never do anything to compromise what happens on this island.”
He turned off the heat on the pasta and lifted the heavy pot to the sink. The colander was already in place to drain the pasta. It was obvious that Val knew his way around the kitchen. “I take it your mother taught you how to cook.”
He smiled. “My father, actually. Good thing, too. My mother didn’t want anything to do with cooking for months after his death.”
“You’re the good son all the way around.” She meant the words as a compliment but they came out a little snarky.
“Family is important.”
She wondered if the family loyalty thing skipped her. She loved her parents, but didn’t have any undying need to protect and care for them. They’d always seemed to do that for each other just fine, leaving her flapping in a lonely wind.
Gabi jogged down the back stairs and into the kitchen. “She’ll be down in a few minutes. Shall I set the table?” She walked over to the eat-in kitchen table and started to lift Meg’s purse to set it aside.
Meg thought of the mail from Judy and couldn’t remember if Alonzo’s name was used. Since the letter was lying in her purse, Meg jumped to take her purse from Gabi’s hands. “I’ll take that.”
Gabi handed it over, and reached back for the papers that fell out.
Meg didn’t need to worry, Gabi didn’t look at the mail before she swept the table free of everything and started to gather dishes.
Mrs. Masini looked five years younger after her nap. It helped that she didn’t wear flour quite like Meg. Val poured wine and Gabi dished up the meal.
Before they forked one spoonful, Val lifted his glass. “To new friends.”
Mrs. Masini lifted her glass. “To new cooks.”
Gabi joined them. “To the perfect con to obtain stage time with Jim Lewis.”
Meg laughed and added her own toast. “To surviving my cooking.”
With the taste of wine on her lips, she met Val’s gaze as he took his first bite.
“Oh, cara. Perfect.”
“Better than my first attempt,” Gabi said, taking a second bite.
“Really?” Meg lifted her fork, took her first bite. “Mmm.” It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty damn good.
“Of course it’s perfect. I’m a good teacher, no?”
“The best, Mama.”
They talked of food, their first attempts at cooking before either of the Masini children got it right. They laughed when Meg described her flour volcano taking on a resemblance to Mount St. Helens.
And they ate.
Meg couldn’t remember a better meal. A bit of pride wound inside her head as everyone finished their plates, Val taking on a second helping.
They moved to the outside patio when they were finished, Meg rested a hand on her full stomach. “How do you stay so thin eating like that?” she asked Gabi.
“Lots of swimming.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Val said across from the two of them. “She eats like a sparrow most of the time.”
“I have to fit into my wedding dress.”
With the mention of the pending wedding, Mrs. Masini did that growl thing Meg had grown to recognize during their time together.
“A husband should love you heavy or thin.”
“I want to be thin for me, Mama.”
“I think I’ll finish my nap,” Mrs. Masini said, excusing herself. She stopped at Meg’s side. “Thank you for your company today, Margaret.”
Meg stood and hugged her teacher. “Thank you. I really did have fun.”
Mrs. Masini kissed her cheek and walked into the house.
Val’s cell phone buzzed, taking his attention away. “Looks like I have to get back to work.”
“I should wash some of this flour off before it becomes a paste on my skin.”
Gabi brushed at her arm. “It’s not that bad.”
The three of them walked back inside and Meg gathered her purse. She removed the note Val had sent her and waved it toward him. “Thanks for the warning.”
“She went easy on you.”
Meg tucked the note away, determined to keep it, and noticed another envelope beside the other two. Her name adorned the envelope with no return address. She wondered if maybe Val had sent her two notes.
Gabi asked her brother about one of their guests and Meg opened the letter.
Only it wasn’t a letter.
It was from the night before . . . a picture.
A picture of her in Val’s arms, their intimate embrace leaving little to the imagination of anyone who came upon it. “What the hell?”
“What is it?”
“Is this a joke?” Because if it was, she wasn’t laughing.
Val took the folded picture away and grew rigid.
“Oh, my.” Gabi’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“Where did you get this?” Val asked, his tone accusing, his eyes dark.