The Senator's Widow by Aoibh Wood

Author:Aoibh Wood [Wood, Aoibh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aoibh Wood
Published: 2024-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sarah

THE GROGGINESS OF sleep still clung to my eyes as I stumbled from my room, chasing the smell of sausage and bacon. That and the chatter of familiar voices had lured me out of the warm bed toward the kitchen.

“Morning, sunshine,” Mom said as I trundled in.

“Coffee!” My words came out as a zombie-like groan, making her laugh.

So did Miranda, gesturing to the coffee pot. “Ready and waiting,” she said as she finished rolling and cutting biscuits like an expert.

I blinked at the clock, willing my eyes to focus. “It’s eleven a.m. Why the heck didn’t ya’ll wake me up?”

Miranda slid the biscuits into the oven and then turned, her hands covered in flour. “You were out cold. I thought you needed the rest after two full days of driving.”

I scooted awkwardly, both Miranda and I moving first left and then right as I went for the coffee. Finally, I just chuckled and said, “Shall we dance?” Then, I waited for Miranda to pick a direction before reaching for the pot.

Miranda moved out of the way and looked down shyly. “Sorry.” My brows knitted at the sheepish response, but I said nothing, instead pouring myself a cup of coffee and dropping into a seat at the table.

I watched Miranda as she moved expertly around the kitchen, dressed in a pair of my old high-school gym shorts that drew my eyes the length of her legs down to her perfectly manicured and polished toenails. “I didn’t know you could cook,” I said finally, a light grin playing on my lips, carefully hidden behind my coffee cup.

She glanced back at me and rolled her eyes while her hands flawlessly placed a second bunch of biscuits on a baking sheet. “I’m not useless, despite what people may say or think. When you’re a politician’s wife, you find things to do to keep yourself sane. Cooking classes was one of them.” There was a twinkle in her eye, a glimpse of playful mischief that made my stomach flip a little.

I realized then that I was seeing something different—no, someone different. Gone was the starched politician’s wife, and in its place stood a woman, much more self-possessed and friendly. She definitely looked more comfortable than the night before. Then I realized that there was something else. Miranda’s hair was cut to shoulder length in a bob. “That’s quite the change of hairstyle.”

“Bobbie’s doing this morning while you slept,” She said, again showing that uncharacteristic shyness. “I wanted one of the sides shaved, but your mom refused.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

Bobbie turned around to check the grits, speaking over her shoulder. “I told her absolutely not. I’m sure she’d look stunning in anything, but there’s looking different, and then there’s drawing way too much attention.”

“She’s not wrong,” I said, still gazing at Miranda, watching her every move and mannerism. “You would look fabulous, but it’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

She pouted for a moment, then checked the biscuits. “I figured you’d like it.

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