Two bodies barreled in the kitchen door as he picked up the rolling pin.
“Mom, hi! Cedar was hitchhiking. I gave her a ride, and she’s starving too.” Gigi went straight to Anna and enveloped her in a tight hug. “Mm, you smell good, like coconuts.”
Anna caught Liam’s gaze and blushed. The cottage’s boxy kitchen was suddenly very crowded. She herded the two young women into the living room and introduced them to the apron-clad man at her counter.
“This is Liam,” she said. “He arrived on the island last week, and I’m putting him to work. Liam, my daughter, Gigi, and her friend, Cedar.”
They exchanged a round of hellos before Gigi poked her head into the second bedroom. “Okay if we stay the night? We’ll be out super early for the ferry to Van.”
“You know where the sheets are. Help yourself.” Anna nudged Liam away from the lower cupboard and withdrew a large pot. Gigi and Cedar giggled as they made the bunkbeds, generating enough noise to cover the conversation happening in the kitchen.
“That was close,” Anna muttered under her breath. “Do you want me to add anything to the water?”
“Salt. And the noodles should be ready for cooking in about fifteen minutes. Oh, Saffron? You forgot to tell me your name.”
“It’s Anna.” She lifted her heels to find his mouth to exchange a quick kiss. Letting him go, she reached into the pantry closet for rolled oats and stoneground flour. She was ready to start another apple crumble when she noticed Liam’s body had gone from languid to alert.
“Did you say your name’s Anna?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shook his head and relaxed his stance. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to be sure I heard correctly because I don’t want to trip up and call you Saffron. Or Nutmeg.”
“Very funny.” She swatted his arm and wrinkled her nose. “Can you step aside again?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“Apples.” She crouched and extracted a slatted box filled with paper-wrapped fruit.
Liam took the box from her and placed it on the counter. “You keep apples in a cupboard?”
“To age them,” she explained. “The flavor changes over time, and these Belle de Boskoops should be ready to use now.”
“I’ve never seen an apple this big.” The piece of fruit he cupped in both hands had slightly rough skin colored pale yellow-green, with blushes of red and rose.
Anna pulled out another one and sniffed. The fruit was ageing nicely. She’d be putting up jars of applesauce by the end of the week. “They’re a variety of Norwegian apple. One of my favorites. Can you pull out two more, about the same size?”
He chose more apples and carefully rearranged the paper and fruit in the box before sliding it into the lower cupboard. Anna kept her attention on the bowl of dry ingredients in front of her. Sugar, cinnamon and fresh-ground cardamom were next. She cut butter into the bowl and pinched the chunks into the oats and flour. The kitchen overflowed with homey smells, and the rhythm involved in making the dessert helped focus her jumpiness.
“Would you like me to cut the apples?” Liam asked.
“Yes, but wash and peel them first. Toss them in this.” Anna plunked a creamy white stoneware bowl next to the cutting board. “I’ll butter the baking dish. Oh, and squeeze some lemon juice over the apples so they don’t turn brown.”
“I can finish the crumble if you’d like,” he offered, staying attentive to his task.
“Sure, thanks. The oven’s preheated, and the water’s about to boil.”
Anna walked toward the bedroom and knocked on the door. “Girls, could you set the table, please?”
Gigi motioned to her to step in all the way. “Who’s the cute guy, Mom?”
Anna closed the door behind her and affected a stern glance. “He’s my new neighbor. He’s rented the MacMasters’ cottage for three months.”
Gigi and Cedar looked at each and waggled their eyebrows.
“Gigi, it’s not like that at all,” Anna insisted. “Now, c’mon out. I’m hungry, and the table won’t set itself.”
Liam had put the apple crumble into the oven and was stirring the pasta into simmering water. Anna had thought she was finished with missing the hustle and bustle of her cooking days, but the giggly girls dancing as they set the table and the presence of a man in her kitchen was verging on too much.
She moved to the side door, lifted her oiled canvas jacket from its hook, and stepped onto the deck.
“I’ll be right back.” Outside, the moon was waning, and patches of sky were clearing. Anna stood on the unlit section of deck hidden from the driveway. The kitchen door opened inward before the screen door creaked, announcing she had company. Scissors snipped, filling the night air with the scent of fresh cut herbs from the flower boxes hanging along the railing.
“Are you okay?” Liam asked, stepping closer.
“My house isn’t usually this full on a Friday night.” Anna looked from him to the tableaux visible through the wide windows. Her living room glowed with light, and four sets of plates and sparkling glassware beckoned. He rubbed the space between her shoulder blades and spoke into the side of her head.
“Shall we eat?”
Dinner was lively and loud. Liam and Gigi’s mutual interest in design kept the conversation rolling, and the fluidly familiar interaction between the three women made for a pleasurable dance.
“I got my mad sewing skills from my mom,” Gigi explained, “and this semester we’ve been focusing on all natural dyes and more one-of-a-kind pieces. Here, scroll through these.”
She was a taller, more slender version of her mother, with an asymmetrical haircut that flashed bright green highlights whenever she moved her head. She handed her phone to Liam. He reached into a pocket for his reading glasses. Anna shifted her chair so she could look over his shoulder. The pictures showed racks of clothing and individual pieces, as well as the sewing studio and Gigi’s coworkers.
Liam pointed to the garments hanging on the mannequins. “You’re doing both pattern-making and
