Read Online Olive Oil and White Bread by Georgia Beers - Free Book Online

and father, Jillian right behind her. “Hey, you guys.”
    â€œAngelina,” Angie’s father said in his signature, singsong way. Nobody said Angie’s name quite like her dad. “We come bearing gifts.”
    â€œOh, my god, Pop,” Angie said over her mother’s shoulder as she hugged her and sniffed the air. “Is that your pizza?”
    â€œYou know your father,” Alice said. “He was afraid you’d order from those Parelli brothers around the corner. You know how he feels about them.” She turned, and held her arms open to Jillian.
    â€œThey wouldn’t know how to make a good pizza sauce if my own grandmother taught them,” Joe muttered, his disdain for the local pizza chain always clear.
    â€œYour timing couldn’t be better,” Jillian commented, her voice muffled by Alice’s shoulder. “Our box springs won’t fit up the stairs, and our movers are starving. Food will definitely help everybody calm down a little bit. Just”—she slid boxes and papers and garbage around on the counter to make room—“here. Put it here.”
    Alice came up behind the two of them and held out a bottle of champagne. “This is for you to celebrate. It’s not for everybody. Just the two of you. Later.”
    Jillian’s heart warmed, and Angie kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”
    â€œI’ll put it in the fridge.”
    â€œDoctor Jackson,” Joe called as he headed into the living room. “I thought you were above all of this. How did they rope you in?”
    Jillian smiled, watching as Angie’s mother dodged the bed guys and joined her husband in the living room, to talk to the women bringing in the final boxes from the truck. A surge of pride and thankswashed through her. The house was small but adorable, and just right for her and Angie. Their furniture was mismatched, their dishes were all hand-me-downs from family members, and their hodgepodge of blue and yellow towels didn’t come close to matching the green and beige bathroom. But the house was theirs. They were moving into their own place. Together. They’d been squished into Angie’s tiny one-bedroom for nearly a year, and there just hadn’t been enough room. Angie wanted a bigger kitchen. Jillian needed a place for her art supplies.
    â€œI can’t believe how fast this has all happened,” Angie’s mother was saying as Jillian tuned back into the conversation. “It seems like you just decided to move yesterday.”
    â€œTwo months,” Angie clarified. “Started looking, found this house, put in an offer, closed. All in the space of two months. I can’t believe my head hasn’t exploded clean off my body by now.”
    â€œNeither can I,” Jillian agreed with a wink.
    â€œIt was utter insanity.”
    â€œBut it’s the perfect house for us and worth all the stress. Admit it.”
    â€œI admit it,” Angie said with feigned reluctance, her arm around Jillian’s shoulders.
    The house was more than they had hoped for. Small, only two bedrooms, but gorgeous hardwood floors, gumwood trim, an enclosed front porch, and a master bedroom with a vaulted ceiling and skylights. With Jillian’s regular teacher income and Angie’s commission (getting better and better the more sales she made), things might be a little tight to start, but the two of them would be okay.
    Forty-five minutes later, delivery guys gone and a lone mattress on the floor upstairs, the six of them sat in the living room, paper plates of Joe’s homemade pizza in their hands, bottles of Bud Light all around.
    â€œThank you all so much for your help,” Jillian said, holding up her beer. “We so appreciate it, and we couldn’t have done it without you. We owe you.”
    They all held up their bottles.
    â€œAnd we will collect,” Laura said. As the crew chuckled, she added,