The Prodigal Comes Home. Kathryn Springer
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heard that part of the state is a great vacation spot but I’ve never been there.” Matt leaned over, snagged a mushroom out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth.
Zoey nodded but appeared to relax a little. “I took a short leave of absence to come back and help Gran.”
“How long do you plan on staying?” Matt couldn’t explain how, in the space of a few hours, he’d gone from questioning Zoey moving in with Liz to feeling disappointed that it was only temporary.
“I wasn’t sure how long Gran would need me, so I asked for two weeks off. My understudy was thrilled, of course. She complains that she’s never going to be discovered by a Holly-wood talent agent if I refuse to get sick or take a personal day once in a while.”
Matt processed that information as he dumped the flour and yeast into a mixing bowl. Liz had taught him how to make the crust from scratch, and now he’d done it so often he didn’t need to look at a recipe anymore.
“Which play are you doing now?” He sat down across from her at the table, deliberately turning his attention to the task in front of him.
“We’ll be performing a musical called Once Upon a Castle. Kind of a modern Cinderella story,” Zoey explained. “Most of the performances are popular Broadway plays, but sometimes my director will use an original script when we want to put on a show with audience participation.”
“So which part do you play?” Given the fact that Zoey had mentioned an understudy, Matt had a hunch she had a major role.
“Ella Cinders.”
Matt laughed.
“Hey, don’t make fun! The children love it.” Zoey slapped the back of his hand when he reached for a slice of pepper.
The playful, completely unexpected, touch squeezed the air out of Matt’s lungs.
Their eyes met, and Zoey lurched to her feet.
“I’ll be right back,” she muttered. “I better go check on Gran.”
What on earth had she been thinking?
She hadn’t, that was the trouble.
Because if she would have been thinking, Zoey would have remembered that Matt was her grandmother’s neighbor. Her pastor.
She hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of that heart-stopping smile again, let alone to be treated as if she were a person he was genuinely interested in getting to know rather than the town pariah.
Was it possible he hadn’t asked someone about her yet?
If that were the case, Zoey wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was only a matter of time before Matt found out the truth. Maybe she should simply tell him and get it over with…but the thought of seeing the warmth in those hazel eyes glaze over with disapproval caused the knot in her stomach to tighten.
Matt Wilde was a complication Zoey hadn’t expected to find when she’d returned to Mirror Lake. An all too attractive complication.
“Is the pizza done already?” Gran looked up from her knitting as Zoey burst into the parlor.
“Ah, not yet.” She felt the color rise in her cheeks. “I wanted to see if you needed anything.” And she’d needed to escape.
“Not a thing.” Gran looked perfectly content as the bright aquamarine knitting needles clicked together in her lap. “I’m so glad you and Matthew are getting acquainted. With your parents living in Africa and me all alone now, he’s been more like family…” She broke off with a look of dismay. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, sweetheart.”
Zoey forced a smile. “I know you didn’t, Gran.”
Concern cast a shadow over Liz’s face. “I can be so thoughtless at times,” she murmured.
Zoey dropped to her knees by her grandmother’s chair. “You aren’t thoughtless at all. And I’m glad you have good friends who stop by to check on you. Have dinner with you. It must be lonely without Grandpa.”
“It is.” Gran’s eyes misted, as if the grief was still fresh.
As different as night and day, her grandparents had been one of those rare couples whose love had only grown stronger over time. Zoey remembered rolling her eyes when her grandpa would tease her grandmother until she dissolved into giggles like a school girl. The way they would reach for each other’s hands while walking down the street…or at the dinner table in prayer.
“I wish…” Zoey’s voice cracked under the weight of her regrets.
Liz squeezed her hand, as if she understood. “I appreciate your checking on me, but you better help Matt. He tends to make a mess if I’m not there to stop him.”
“I heard that!” A cheerful masculine voice called out.
Zoey winced, wondering what else he’d heard. She had forgotten how thin the walls were between the rooms.
“All right,” she agreed. “But if you need anything, let me know.” Soon.
As soon as Zoey walked into the kitchen, she realized her plan had backfired. Matt had finished his assigned task and, with chef’s knife in hand, was armed and ready to help her.
She slid into the chair across the table from him and held her breath, waiting for him to pick up where the conversation had left off. Instead, Matt continued chopping up peppers. When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t get your knife to work?”
Zoey almost smiled.
“I know they can be kind of tricky.”
Now she did smile.
“I’ll figure it out.” Zoey grabbed another pepper out of the bowl and set to work.
The silence should have been uncomfortable, but Matt seemed perfectly at ease. They worked together in a companionable silence. By the time the pizza was ready, instead of watching the clock tick off the minutes, Zoey couldn’t believe the time had passed so quickly.
The timer went off and Zoey jumped up. “I’ll take it out.”
She opened a drawer next to the oven and found it filled with measuring cups and baking utensils.
“The drawer on the left.”
“Gran was right. You do know your way around the kitchen.” To cover up her mistake—and the guilt that came from knowing how long she’d been away—Zoey tried to inject a teasing note in her voice. And failed miserably.
Matt looked down at her, a frown settling between his brows. Zoey braced herself, waiting for the attack. The “if-you’d-come-around-more-often-you’d-know-where-the-potholders-weretoo” reminder.
“The pizza looks great. I’ll get Liz” was all Matt said.
He left the kitchen and Zoey finished getting the table ready. She put out a bowl of fresh spinach with chopped tomatoes and a gelatin salad, one of several lined up like colorful jewels on the shelf in the refrigerator. Her grandmother’s friends had dropped off enough food to feed a small army.
On impulse, Zoey lit the pillar candle in the center of the table. It cast a warm glow in the room.
“Everything looks lovely.” Gran swept in on Matt’s arm, not looking nearly as tired as she’d claimed to be when she left them alone on kitchen duty.
Zoey’s heart started beating in double-time as a thought suddenly occurred to her.
No, Gran wouldn’t dare…not a woman who believed it was God who brought a couple together, without any help from earthly matchmakers. Or well-meaning grandmothers.
“What would you like to drink, Liz?” Matt pulled a chair away from the table.
“Water,