Read Online 01_The Best Gift by Irene Hannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Irene Hannon
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parents with a cheery smile. “Terrific. Let me write down the directions for you. I’m sure you’re tired, so we’ll make it early.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, A.J. stepped away to help a customer, leaving Blake alone with his parents. She glanced his way a couple of times, but he never moved from behind the counter. And even from a distance, his stiff posture spoke eloquently. Had she made a mistake by inviting them all to dinner? There was clearly no love lost on Blake’s side. Yet his parents obviously cared for him. She could see it in their eyes. So what was the story? Had she stepped into the middle of something she’d regret?
But it was too late for regrets. She’d told Blake once that she didn’t waste time on them. Which was true. Better to think about the dinner to come.
Then again, maybe not, she admitted as she glanced back at the three people standing at the counter. Considering the obviously strained relationship between parents and son, this could prove to be a very long evening.
A.J. put a match to the final wick, taking a moment to enjoy the soft, warm glow from the flickering candles placed throughout the living room. On a cold January evening like this, a fireplace would be perfect. But apartments like hers didn’t come with such amenities.
Still, she was pleased with what she’d been able to do with the small space. She’d supplemented the few things she’d brought from Chicago with garage-sale finds, and the overall effect was warm and inviting. A small dinette set stood in the eating alcove next to the galley-style kitchen, and she’d covered the table with a handmade woven blanket she’d brought back from the Middle East. More candles of various heights stood in the center.
The small couch in the living room was draped with a colorful throw, and she’d turned a small trunk with brass hinges into a coffee table. A bookcase displayed favorite volumes as well as small pieces of sculpture. The final touch had been a fresh coat of off-white paint, which had brightened the dingy tan walls considerably and offered a great backdrop for some of her native art.
With a satisfied nod, she went back to the kitchen to check on dinner. She hadn’t made this couscous-based dish in quite a while, but for some reason she had a feeling that Jan and Carl would appreciate it. She wasn’t so sure about Blake.
She frowned as she stirred brown rice into the pot. She wasn’t sure about him in a lot of ways, actually. He’d avoided her the rest of the afternoon, busying himself with customers in the shop or calling patrons whose orders had come in. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d backed out of her invitation. In fact, when she finally cornered him to tell him she was leaving a little early to get dinner started, she was fully prepared for him to say he wasn’t coming. But he didn’t. He just gave her a curt nod and turned away.
If she’d made a huge faux pas, she was sorry. But she had taken an immediate liking to Jan and Carl. And in the face of their son’s lack of hospitality, she’d felt compelled to step in and show some Christian charity. After all, they’d made a big detour to visit Blake. If he chose not to appreciate it, that was his issue. At least she could be friendly.
The doorbell rang, and A.J. put a lid on the pot, then wiped her hands on a towel. Let the games begin, she thought with a wry grin as she went to welcome her guests.
Despite Blake’s buttoned-up style and obsession with punctuality, she’d half expected him to show up late for dinner in an attempt to shave as many minutes as possible off the evening. But instead she found him waiting on the other side of the door.
At her surprised look, he glanced at his watch. “Am I early?”
“No. Come in, Liam .” She hoped her kidding tone would lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.
He didn’t move. “That’s not funny.”
The teasing light in her eyes faded.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, A.J. stepped away to help a customer, leaving Blake alone with his parents. She glanced his way a couple of times, but he never moved from behind the counter. And even from a distance, his stiff posture spoke eloquently. Had she made a mistake by inviting them all to dinner? There was clearly no love lost on Blake’s side. Yet his parents obviously cared for him. She could see it in their eyes. So what was the story? Had she stepped into the middle of something she’d regret?
But it was too late for regrets. She’d told Blake once that she didn’t waste time on them. Which was true. Better to think about the dinner to come.
Then again, maybe not, she admitted as she glanced back at the three people standing at the counter. Considering the obviously strained relationship between parents and son, this could prove to be a very long evening.
A.J. put a match to the final wick, taking a moment to enjoy the soft, warm glow from the flickering candles placed throughout the living room. On a cold January evening like this, a fireplace would be perfect. But apartments like hers didn’t come with such amenities.
Still, she was pleased with what she’d been able to do with the small space. She’d supplemented the few things she’d brought from Chicago with garage-sale finds, and the overall effect was warm and inviting. A small dinette set stood in the eating alcove next to the galley-style kitchen, and she’d covered the table with a handmade woven blanket she’d brought back from the Middle East. More candles of various heights stood in the center.
The small couch in the living room was draped with a colorful throw, and she’d turned a small trunk with brass hinges into a coffee table. A bookcase displayed favorite volumes as well as small pieces of sculpture. The final touch had been a fresh coat of off-white paint, which had brightened the dingy tan walls considerably and offered a great backdrop for some of her native art.
With a satisfied nod, she went back to the kitchen to check on dinner. She hadn’t made this couscous-based dish in quite a while, but for some reason she had a feeling that Jan and Carl would appreciate it. She wasn’t so sure about Blake.
She frowned as she stirred brown rice into the pot. She wasn’t sure about him in a lot of ways, actually. He’d avoided her the rest of the afternoon, busying himself with customers in the shop or calling patrons whose orders had come in. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d backed out of her invitation. In fact, when she finally cornered him to tell him she was leaving a little early to get dinner started, she was fully prepared for him to say he wasn’t coming. But he didn’t. He just gave her a curt nod and turned away.
If she’d made a huge faux pas, she was sorry. But she had taken an immediate liking to Jan and Carl. And in the face of their son’s lack of hospitality, she’d felt compelled to step in and show some Christian charity. After all, they’d made a big detour to visit Blake. If he chose not to appreciate it, that was his issue. At least she could be friendly.
The doorbell rang, and A.J. put a lid on the pot, then wiped her hands on a towel. Let the games begin, she thought with a wry grin as she went to welcome her guests.
Despite Blake’s buttoned-up style and obsession with punctuality, she’d half expected him to show up late for dinner in an attempt to shave as many minutes as possible off the evening. But instead she found him waiting on the other side of the door.
At her surprised look, he glanced at his watch. “Am I early?”
“No. Come in, Liam .” She hoped her kidding tone would lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.
He didn’t move. “That’s not funny.”
The teasing light in her eyes faded.
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