The Vineyard Daughters by Grace Palmer

Author:Grace Palmer [Palmer, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grace Palmer

13

Leslie

Morning At The Wayfarer Inn

Leslie took a long drink of her cold coffee and tied her apron around her waist.

Forget bread. She could make lots of things that wouldn’t turn to stone in the oven. Muffins, pancakes, frittatas, quiches. No yeast required.

And thank goodness for that. Because after another sleepless night, she was desperate for a distraction.

The sun was barely over the horizon, golden light just starting to creep in through the white valance hanging above the kitchen sink. But Leslie had been awake for hours.

She wanted to blame something else—maybe something astrological or too much caffeine—but she couldn’t avoid the truth.

Aside from one measly text from Shane where he said he was busy, Leslie hadn’t heard from him since he’d stood her up.

“Muffins,” she said aloud, mostly as a way to clear her mind. “Let’s make muffins.”

She threw together a giant mixing bowl worth of her basic muffin batter and then split it into two different bowls. In one, she stirred in lemon zest and poppy seeds. In the other, she mixed espresso powder and dark chocolate chips.

Once the muffins were baking, she turned to the stove to preheat a skillet. The next few minutes were a flurry of cracking and whisking eggs, chopping veggies, and frying sausage. The perfect kind of busy to keep her mind occupied and away from the fact that she didn’t know when she’d see or hear from Shane again.

“Salt,” she muttered, trying to be louder than her own thoughts. “And where’s the pepper grinder?”

She was so busy flitting around the kitchen and talking to herself that she didn’t hear the kitchen door swing open. So when she spun around and saw Krista and Layla standing in front of her, she screamed.

“I’m so sorry,” Krista said, reaching out a hand and then drawing it back.

Layla curled against her mother’s side, nervous.

Leslie pressed a hand to her chest and used the other to wave away the apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t… I didn’t hear you come in.”

Surprising, considering she still heard Krista stomping around upstairs during work every day.

“I’m sorry. We should’ve knocked.”

Leslie shook her head. “You work here. This is the kitchen. No need to knock. Really.”

She dabbed a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Anyway, what’s up?” Leslie asked, looking from Krista to Layla. She resisted the urge to ask where Shane was. “Do you all need something from me?”

Krista sighed. “Well… I hate to ask. I just started, and I’ve asked so much of you already.”

Considering Leslie had given her a room to crash in for a night, a job to earn some money, and was now sharing her boyfriend—though, “sharing” was probably not the optimal word considering Leslie hadn’t seen him in days—maybe Krista had asked too much.

“Go ahead,” Leslie said. “Whatever you need.”

She turned back to the stove and poured her eggs into the skillet, giving her something to do while Krista made whatever request she was going to make. She’d be able to hide her reaction better if she wasn’t looking directly at her.

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