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The Director's Cut Page 12
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He returned a moment later. “Tia, she wants you there. She also wants Rocky Road ice cream. Do you mind stopping at the store to pick up some?”
“Of course not. I’d love to. In fact, I’ll make you guys a home-cooked dinner tonight. How would that be?”
“Sounds awesome. We haven’t had a real meal since lunch yesterday.”
“Okay. I’ll prepare a feast.”
I hung up the phone and panic swept over me. What had I just promised? Other than tamales, I couldn’t cook. Not a thing. Just one more problem to deal with on an already crazy day.
Carlos and Humberto finally showed up, and we got to work on the house. I helped them pull down the wall between the tiny master bath and the large walk-in closet. Expanding the bathroom space was key, so I worked alongside them, using every bit of strength in my petite body to make that wall disappear.
Something about kicking the wall down did something to me—something positive. I took out my frustrations with each kick. Carlos looked on with an admirable “Wow,” and even Humberto got a laugh out of it.
“You’re stronger than you look, Tia.” He gave me a second look. “Should we name that wall Julio, perhaps?”
“No.” Call it Beni. I gave it another kick. There. That felt better. And call this one Dad. That kick brought down another section. Yep. Much better. “Okay, now I’m ready for Julio.” I gave the wall a final kick.
My brothers laughed until I thought they would give up on their work. Fortunately, they continued, taking down the framework of the wall and completely exposing the new space. Looking at the bigger room, I had to admit the truth—space was a good thing. A very good thing. Especially in a room with a beautiful jetted tub.
The guys worked until four, at which point I handed them each another check and sent them packing. With my plumbing now intact, I finally got to take a bath—my first in two and a half days—then dressed to go to Kat and Scott’s.
I stopped by the grocery store and picked up a variety of things—chicken breast, veggies, stuff to make salad. Surely I could handle this, right? I’d already paid for my items when I realized I’d forgotten the Rocky Road ice cream, so back into the store I went. I bought several containers of the yummy stuff, all pint-sized.
As I made the drive to Beverly Hills, I thought about how hard I’d worked today. Something about physical labor felt good, really good. Who needed an aerobics class? Just flip your house!
I arrived at the Murphys’ home around five and pressed the buzzer at the gate. Scott’s voice came on the line. “Tia, thank goodness. She’s dying for that ice cream.”
“Your wish is my command.”
The gate swung open, and I entered the grounds. Stepping inside the large house moments later, I immediately felt at home. Everything was beautiful, no doubt about it. But they’d somehow managed to take a home in Beverly Hills and make it look comfortable and inviting, not show-offish.
Suddenly my mother’s words hit me again, hard and fresh. She’d accused me of acting like I was better than everyone else. Okay, so I did have friends with beautiful homes in Beverly Hills. Yes, I worked for a major studio. And true, I lived in a nice house. Well, a house that would one day be nice, if my brothers ever finished it. But I worked hard. And I took care of my family, better care than most of them did themselves. How could anyone fault me for following after my heart, my dreams?
I shook off her words and handed the groceries to Scott, holding back one container of ice cream. He brought me a spoon, then I headed upstairs to see Kat. The moment I laid eyes on her, every bit of frustration I’d been feeling was swept out to sea. She looked like a queen propped up against the pillows with the baby in her arms. A queen holding a princess, all decked out in pink.
See, Tia? Girls come into this world wearing color.
“Oh, Kat.” For a moment, it felt like stepping into their room was equivalent to crossing into hallowed territory. This was truly a place where mother and daughter dwelled in perfect God-given harmony. After all the drama I’d had with my mother, I hardly felt worthy to cross over.
Yet cross over I did. I took a few steps toward the bed.
“Sit with us, Tia.” Kat gestured to the spot on her left.
I eased myself into the spot next to her, still holding tight to the Rocky Road, and leaned over to look into the baby’s face. The most awestruck feeling came over me as I took in her pink cheeks and wispy lashes. “Oh, Kat. She’s even prettier than she was Thursday.”
“Well, she had a rough day Thursday,” Kat said. “We both did.”
“Have you forgiven me yet?” I asked.
She laughed. “Tia, you’re hopeless. You had nothing to do with that. Just how much power do you think you have in that director’s hand of yours, anyway?”
“Very little, actually.” I laughed too. “But speaking of things in my hand . . .” I fumbled with the ice cream, trying to decide how to go about giving it to her.
“You want to hold the baby for a few minutes?” Kat asked.
“Can I?”
We made the switch, and I stared down into that precious face, fully engaged in the moment. “She’s like a little doll. I don’t think I’ve ever been around a baby this little before.”
“You saw her Thursday night, remember?” Kat pulled the top off the ice cream, shoved the spoon inside, took a bite, and leaned back against the headboard, a look of contentment on her face.
“Thursday wasn’t real. It was . . . nuts. But today she’s dressed in this beautiful little dress and all curled up looking like a little burrito. She’s . . .” I was suddenly overcome with emotion. Did I have motherly instincts? The very idea sent me reeling. Then again, I had pretty much raised my younger siblings, hadn’t I? I’d walked my little brothers to school, done the laundry for Benita, and helped Gabe with his homework.
“You ladies decent in here?” Scott called out. He stepped into the room, and I almost gasped aloud when I saw Jason standing next to him. My heart suddenly gravitated to my throat and a shiver ran through me. If I’d known he was coming, I would have put on something other than these jeans and this shirt. Still, he didn’t seem to notice. His warm smile captured my heart.
“Now there’s a picture of perfection.” Jason gestured to the three of us sitting on the bed.
“Oh?” I said.
“You two and that baby.” He held his hands up, making a frame with his fingers. “Wish I could film this. I’d start with a wide shot of everyone, then narrow down to the baby’s face.”
I put my hand up. “You’ll never film me. No way.”
“How come?” He took a couple of steps my way. “Camera shy?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. My sister’s the one who always liked to have her picture taken. I was the one in the background, trying to blend into the furniture.”
“Trust me, you don’t blend into the furniture.”
That prickly, warm feeling traveled up my arms, and I bit back a smile so he wouldn’t see how strongly his words had affected me. This day was supposed to be about Kat and the baby, not me.
Kat looked my way and quirked a brow as if to ask, “What’s going on with you two?”
By way of response, I slid off the bed, handed the baby to Scott, and smoothed my jeans. Then I mumbled something about how I’d better get busy making dinner. Jason and Scott stayed put with Kat and the baby, and I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Moments later, I fumbled my way around the spacious kitchen, wondering why I’d ever agreed to cook in the first place. A sane person would have driven through KFC or Taco Bell. But not me. Oh no. I’d promised a home-cooked meal, and a home-cooked meal they would have.
Only, now I was cooking for Jason too. If he stayed.
Hopefully he would stay.
“Something smells good in here.”
I turned, and the onion I’d been holding rolled out of my hand and across the floor as I stared into Jason’s eyes. “Oh, I, um, haven’t started cookin
g yet.”
“Ah.” He grinned and reached down to pick up the onion. “That doesn’t change what I said, though.”
My cheeks grew warm as I realized he was talking about my perfume. Suddenly I was very glad I’d taken the time to spray it on.
“So, what are we cooking?” he asked.
“We?”
“Sure. I’m pretty good in the kitchen, or so I’ve been told. I grew up with a great cook who considered me her prodigy. I know a thing or two.”
No doubt he knew a lot more than I did. Well, maybe I’d take advantage of that. Swallowing my pride, I looked him in the eye. “Okay, here’s a confession. Other than tamales, I can’t cook a thing.”
He looked at the array of food products spread out on the counter. “Then what’s all this?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “I guess I thought if I bought all the right stuff, I’d figure it out. I was sure it would all come together somehow.”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes narrowed into slits. After a moment, he reached down to pick up the onion and started peeling it. Then he prepared the chicken breasts, coating them with seasoning and dropping them into a skillet with a bit of olive oil.
Within minutes the room filled with the most delicious aroma. Go figure. The guy could run a camera and cook up a feast too. Our kids would never go hungry.
Our kids? Where in the world did that come from?
I must’ve slipped and hit my head for such a crazy notion to latch on to me. In all the time I’d known Jason Harris, I’d seen him only as an adversary. He’d irritated me, challenged me, frustrated me . . . and based on the fluttering sensation in my stomach as I now gazed into his gorgeous green eyes, completely mesmerized me. Why not just relax and see where the afternoon would take us? I had a feeling we had a few tasty hours ahead.
I did my best to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I watched Jason cooking. Thankfully, he lit into a story about surfing, which seemed to steady my breathing. A couple minutes later, Scott stuck his head in the kitchen door. I turned on the water at the sink and stuck my hands underneath, trying to look busy.
“Wow.” Scott grinned. “You two have outdone yourselves. And you’re just in time. Lenora and Rex are here. Hope you’ve made enough for a crowd.”
“It’s chicken cacciatore,” Jason said. “There will be plenty for everyone.”
Fascinating. What we were making actually had a name. He really was good.
“Well, I’m grateful,” Scott said. “Because Athena and Stephen might be stopping by too. They’re bringing a bunch of stuff from her parents’ gyro shop, but we’ll save that for tomorrow.”
If only I’d known, I could have skipped cooking altogether. Then again, that would mean missing out on this time with Jason. Oh no, I wouldn’t take that back for anything. Kat could wait until tomorrow for Greek food. Today it was Italian all the way.
Jason passed a bell pepper my way and said something about chopping it, so I got right to work. He looked through the pantry, coming out with a bag of pasta, then put some water on to boil.
“Something smells yummy in here!” Lenora’s warbling voice rang out.
I looked up from the red pepper, trying not to gasp as I took her in. She wore the most fabulous black and white gown I’d ever seen in my life. Something about it seemed strangely familiar. And that hat! Exquisite didn’t begin to describe it. It took a minute, but I finally realized where I’d seen this ensemble before.
“Oh, I know who you are!” I stood, mouth agape. “You’re Eliza Doolittle from My Fair Lady.”
“Yes, honey, I am the one and only Eliza Doolittle.” Lenora smiled. “You got it right. And it’s been quite a day at the races, let me tell you. That handsome professor, Henry Higgins, really showed me a lovely time. He’s been such a nice chap to take me in after the rough life I’ve led as a flower girl. Not many a man would take a girl from such a rough background.”
Ironic.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and Rex entered.
“Well, here he is now.” Lenora giggled as she looked Rex’s way. “Didn’t we have a wonderful time at the races, Professor?”
“Um, yes.” He pursed his lips and appeared to be thinking. “When a man is with the prettiest lady at the event, how could he help but have a wonderful time?”
“Still, those other women were a bit snobbish, if you don’t mind my saying so. But I didn’t pay them any mind at all.”
“I only had eyes for you, Len—Eliza.” He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss.
Her smile broadened and she began to sing, “Just you wait, Henry Higgins, just you wait!” Then she gave him a playful wink, and he swept her into his arms, planting kisses in her hair.
Jason looked at me, his eyes twinkling. Apparently he enjoyed watching the little scenes that Lenora and Rex played out.
I, on the other hand, always felt like I was invading their private space. So, back to work I went, chopping the red pepper. As Lenora stepped beside me, I looked her way and smiled. She grabbed a piece of the pepper and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. Can’t wait for dinner. All they fed us at the racetrack were those little cucumber sandwiches. I need a real meal.”
Looking at her ever-thinning physique, I could only agree. She did need a real meal. And we would give her one.
“It should be ready in about half an hour,” Jason said. The look of confidence on his face gave me hope that we really might have dinner ready in half an hour. Right now I would simply continue to follow his lead.
Interesting. The director following someone else’s lead. Not that I minded. It felt good not to be in charge for a change.
“Lenora, have you been upstairs to see Kat and the baby?” I asked.
“Baby?” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she nibbled on the pepper. “There’s a baby?”
I swallowed hard and didn’t say anything. Surely she hadn’t forgotten her own great-grandchild.
Jason piped up. “Yes, she’s beautiful. Looks just like her mommy.”
Lenora finally snapped to attention. “Yes, my little girl does look like me, doesn’t she? Everyone says so. She’s got my blue eyes for sure. And my wrinkled skin.”
Huh?
Rex shook his head and slipped his arm through Lenora’s. “Come along, Eliza dear. We’ve had a wonderful day at the races, but it’s time for family now.”
“Ooo, family. Such a wonderful word. I’ve always longed for a family.”
They disappeared out the door together.
Once we were alone in the kitchen, Jason looked my way and sighed. “It’s getting worse.”
“I know.” In the time I’d known Lenora, her forgetful spells had grown more noticeable. “I’m so glad she has Rex.”
“I think he’s glad to have her too.”
The exchange between the two left me feeling a little misty. I used the back of my hand to swipe at my eyes.
“You okay over there?” Jason asked.
“Yeah.” I pulled up a bar stool and sat to finish cutting the pepper. “I think my defenses are down because I’m so worn out.”
“It’s Saturday. People are supposed to rest on Saturday.”
“Humph.”
“What?” He looked my way. “Don’t believe in rest?”
“My house is being renovated, remember?” I finished cutting the pepper, then looked his way. “You should see the mess. We tore down a wall this morning. And repaired the fiasco from a water leak yesterday.”
“Wow.” He gave me a curious look. “Tia, do you ever stop?”
“Stop?” I put down the knife.
“To smell the roses. To sleep. To relax.” He flipped the pieces of chicken in the skillet, then began to add tomatoes and other vegetables. “I mean, you work all week and all weekend too? You need to take a break.”
“Oh, sure. I stop. When I’m sleeping. But it just seems like there’s never enough time to get everything done. I’d like to get this house-flipping thing behind me.”
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“Why are you so set on getting the house done so quickly?” Jason asked. “Sounds like you’re exhausted. Give it a rest for a few days—or weeks even.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to live in it.”
“Part of the fun of flipping a house is the experience itself. You know?”
“That would be great.” If I had someone to enjoy it with. I sighed. “The whole thing has been complicated by some family drama. It’s probably better if we don’t talk about that, though.” I grew silent.
After a moment’s pause, he looked my way again. “I’ve noticed something about us, Tia.”
“Oh?” Us?
“Yeah. We start conversations but don’t finish them. I’m interested in hearing about your family drama. And the house . . . and everything.”
I started to respond, then stopped. No point in letting him know all of my personal stuff just yet. Some things were better left unspoken.
He sat on the bar stool next to me. “I’m not trying to be nosy.”
“Oh, it’s not that. I’m just not comfortable talking about things that I can’t do anything about.”
An uncomfortable silence rose up between us.
Jason finally broke the silence. “Tia, sometimes I get the feeling that if I could see into some sort of invisible realm, I would find walls higher than Jericho built around you.”
“W-what?” I did my best to look him in the eye. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s just a feeling. We can be in the middle of a conversation about something and making progress, then all of a sudden—bam. Conversation over. It’s like you reach a certain point and just shut down. You hit a wall.”
“As I said, I’m not comfortable talking about some things, that’s all. Especially where my family is concerned.” I shrugged, hoping he would change the direction of the conversation. “But I wouldn’t say I have walls up.” In that moment, conviction grabbed hold of me. I somehow managed to keep sitting straight, but my insides began to quiver.
“Tia . . .” Jason put his hand on my back. “I wouldn’t take the time to share all of this with you if I didn’t care about you. I want to see you happy.”