Page 41 of Love, Lies and Mistletoe
“Stop, please. I’m not going to have you feeling sorry for yourself. We’re still having dinner together. The only change is that we’ll have a few less side dishes.”
“That, and this.” Marybelle made a sweeping motion with both arms over the bed.
“How about thinking of it as a more comfortable dining room table?”
“You’re good at looking on the bright side.”
“Isn’t that all there is?”
Marybelle finally smiled. “We have pie, I guess.”
“See? You can look on the bright side too.”
“It only took me all day.”
She smiled back at Marybelle. “I’m going to check on the turkey and whip up some potatoes. If you need anything, call me.Don’tmove.”
Marybelle snorted, but the smile was still there.
Layla left the room. She turned on more lights as she made her way to the front door. Only then did she take her phone from her coat pocket for the first time since they’d left the hospital. Still no word from Kyle. He must really be living it up on the slopes.
But therewasa text from Brant.
Happy Turkey Day,he’d texted.
It’s been some kind of day, that’s for sure,she texted back.Wouldn’t mind a do-over.
Five seconds later, her phone buzzed.
“Are you okay? What’s up?” he asked right away.
The sound of his voice made her heart a little lighter. It was nice to hear someone who seemed to care after such a nerve-wracking day. Even if it was Brant.
She gave him a long-winded summary of Marybelle’s accident and the doctor’s prognosis as she walked the length of the boardwalk to her shop. She could smell the roasted turkey before she even unlocked the door.
“I’m afraid what hurts the most at the moment is Marybelle’s pride. And she’s an ornery patient too.” It sounded like a party in the background. She pictured Brant kicking back at the dinner table, his plate empty, while the table was cleared around him.
“Pride isn’t life-threatening, but it’s a pain to deal with, especially when a person is just trying to help,” he said.
“True.” She paused. “It sounds like you have a lot of company. I’d better let you go.”
“We’ve already eaten. It’s wrapping up here. Everyone happens to be congregating in my personal space at the moment is all.”
“Sounds fun.” She liked his throaty giggle. Brant must have walked into another room, because the background noise faded.
“What about your dinner?” he asked.
“Our meal will be pretty bare bones after today’s excitement. I’ll at least whip up some potatoes for the turkey. I’m just thankful to be home.” Layla walked into her kitchen and went straight to the pantry.
“That’s too bad. That you won’t get the full-throttle turkey dinner, I mean.”
She took five potatoes from the bag and started peeling them, the phone pressed against her shoulder. “We’re okay. The silver lining is there won’t be much to clean up.”
On that note, Brant said his guests were giving him looks for not helping. “I might suffer the same fate as the turkey if I don’t get off the phone.”
“You’d better go then. Thanks for checking on me.”
After hanging up, Layla doubled down on peeling the potatoes. She caught herself smiling as she dumped the diced potatoes in water, then again when she checked the temperature of the turkey. It wasn’t the fact that a handsome, charismatic celebrity of sorts had called to check on her. That wasn’t it at all.
