of you down.”
“Just for that, I’ll see that the kids leave at least a few of these cookies for you,” she promised.
* * *
Karen stood in the doorway as she and Elliott were about to leave for their midweek date, her gaze on Frances, who was on the sofa with Daisy on one side and Mack on the other. As they munched on cookies, they vied for a chance to fill her in on their lives, their words tumbling over each other as Frances chuckled.
“Look how much they adore her,” she whispered to Elliott. “They’re so lucky to have her in their lives.”
“I think she counts herself as the lucky one,” he said. “It’s such a shame that her grandchildren don’t get here to visit very often. She was meant to be surrounded by kids. Her students used to fill that void, but she’s been retired a long time now.”
As they drove into town for a casual dinner at Rosalina’s, Karen voiced the concern that she’d kept to herself for a while now. “How much longer do you suppose we’ll have her?”
“There’s no way of predicting such a thing,” Elliott said. “We just have to be grateful for every minute we do have.”
“I think she’s slowing down, though. I never noticed it before, but tonight she just seemed a little tentative to me.”
Elliott frowned. “Tentative, how?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it. Even though she’s been to the house before, she seemed a little uncertain about where things were. Didn’t you notice that? And just having you pick her up was a change. Usually she drives herself everywhere.”
“She told me she doesn’t like driving after dark anymore. A lot of people her age have vision problems at night. The streetlights and headlights bother them. And let’s face it, our neighborhood isn’t the easiest to navigate.”
“I suppose that’s all it is,” Karen said, then regarded him with a grin. “Enough doom and gloom and trying to anticipate something that’s in God’s hands. You and I are actually having a date night. How amazing is that?”
He gave her a slow once-over that had her blood stirring. “A date night, huh? Does that mean we get to park and make out before I take you home?”
She grinned at him. “Depends on how good this date is,” she said. “Do you still remember how to woo me?”
He winked. “I’ll definitely give it my best shot, especially with that payoff you hinted could be mine.” He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips even as he kept his eyes squarely on the road. After the kiss, he rested her hand on his thigh, covered by his hand. She felt the involuntary bunching of his muscle, the heat of his skin. It made her feel not only very feminine but powerful, knowing the effect she had on him.
After Elliott pulled into a parking space and cut the engine, he turned to her. His expression stern, he said, “Remember, no trying to figure out the secret ingredients or trying to sneak a peek into the kitchen. This is a date, not an undercover op to check out the competition.”
Karen chuckled. “I figured out all of Rosalina’s secret ingredients years ago. I don’t do any culinary spying here. I can just relax and enjoy my meal.”
“Ah, so it’s only in the restaurants in Charleston and Columbia I have to worry about what you’re up to when you claim to be going to the restroom,” he teased. “And whether you’re more interested in the food than in me.”
“I will always be more interested in you than anything,” she assured him, then added thoughtfully, “Unless somebody happens to have the perfect chocolate soufflé on the menu. I’d love to get a handle on that one.”
“Don’t let Erik ever hear you suggest that his isn’t perfect,” Elliott warned. “The man’s pastry skills are supposedly legendary, at least around South Carolina.”
“Pies, cakes, cobblers, I’ll give him all of those,” Karen said. “But making a soufflé is an art. And if you’ll think about it, Sullivan’s doesn’t have it on the menu, not
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