Marie Ferrarella - Adding Up To Family

Becky took everything in but said nothing. Turning off the burners, she drained and then transferred the linguine from a pot to a large serving bowl. She did the same for the beef Stroganoff she’d made, then picked up the first bowl and carried it to the table.

“You made Stroganoff,” Steve suddenly realized. He smiled broadly at the dish on the counter.

“Stephanie told me that was your favorite,” Becky explained. “I thought it might make a good first meal to serve you.”

He had a soft spot in his heart for Stroganoff. It was the first dish that his late wife had made for him after they married, although he had to admit that the scent he’d detected back then was of something burning. It had taken Cindy a while before she got the hang of cooking.

Such was not the problem here.

And then, as he looked again at the table, Steve saw that there were only two places set, not three. He thought it was an oversight on his daughter’s part.

“There’s one place setting missing, Stephanie,” he prompted quietly, not wanting to embarrass her.

“Becky told me to only set two places,” she answered defensively.

He turned to look at Becky as she set the second serving bowl in the center of the table. “You’re not eating with us?”

“I can’t,” she told him. “I have to go home and do some packing. When Mrs. Parnell told me about this job, I didn’t realize that if I accepted it, I’d be living here,” she confessed.

“But you will be back in the morning, right?” he asked uneasily. Now that he’d found someone who was acceptable not only to him, but to Stevi, he didn’t want to take a chance on having her change her mind.

Becky smiled. “Right.”

Because he had wound up skipping lunch and had basically subsisted on a candy bar he’d gotten out of the vending machine when his stomach’s growling became too loud to ignore, he was extremely susceptible to the aroma wafting up at him. In short order, he ladled both linguine and a large serving of beef Stroganoff onto his plate as he talked.

He sat down with his dish. Unable to resist, he took a forkful of linguine and Stroganoff and slid them into his mouth. Whatever he was about to say to Becky instantly slipped his mind as the flavor seized his attention and took him prisoner.

Wow!

This woman really was perfect, he couldn’t help thinking.

“We haven’t talked salary yet,” Steve said, after chewing and swallowing. He didn’t want to lose her on that technicality, and all but sighed as the next forkful disappeared between his lips. “Name your price.”

Becky laughed, pleased at the compliment he was paying her. “That’s actually something for you and Mrs. Parnell to discuss and decide,” she told him. “And just so you know,” she added, “I had help with the meal.”

A touch of disappointment nudged him. “You ordered out?” he asked. Takeout had been the meal of choice for his last housekeeper, and the go-to move for the other two more often than not. He’d begun to think that cooking was a lost art—until now. “This has to be from someplace new,” he guessed, because he couldn’t remember having his taste buds tantalized this way before.

“No,” Becky corrected. “Stephanie and I went grocery shopping together—you hardly have anything in your refrigerator beyond breakfast food,” she explained. “And then we cooked together.”

“You and Stephanie?” he repeated incredulously. Was she serious?

“Yes.”

Only his presence of mind kept his mouth from dropping open. He looked at his daughter in complete astonishment. Stevi had never expressed the slightest interest in cooking before.

“You helped with this?” he asked in amazement.

“She most certainly did,” Becky told him. There was a note of pride in her voice that took him by surprise. “If you ask me, I think she’s a natural,” she concluded, winking at his daughter.

Stevi seemed to beam. For his part, Steve was at a complete loss for words.

He was still speechless minutes later, as Becky left the house.

* * *

“So, how did it go?” Celia asked, doing her best to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

Becky had hardly had time to walk into her apartment and lock the door behind her before her cell phone began ringing. Dropping her purse on the floor, she glanced at the caller ID on the phone’s screen before she answered. All she had time to say was “Hello” before Celia asked her the all-important question.

“Very well, I think. And you’re right,” Becky added with a smile as she sat down on her sofa. “His daughter does remind me of me when I was her age.”

Celia immediately got to the heart of the matter. “Did you have any trouble getting along with Stephanie?”

Celia wanted to make sure that Becky was happy with this choice. Even if she felt she had brought the right two people together, she didn’t want to impose her will on either of them, especially not on a young woman she had grown particularly fond of over the last three years.

“It was a little awkward at first,” Becky admitted. She tucked her legs under her. “I think that’s because she’s had a few less-than-satisfying relationships with the housekeepers her father hired in the past. But it didn’t take me much time to get her to open up just a little. More will take a while,” Becky freely admitted. “After all, the process does require time, but I feel like we’ve made a really good start.”

“I’m so very glad to hear that,” Celia told her. “But to be honest, I also hear something else in your voice.”

Becky wasn’t sure she understood what the woman was getting at. She didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. “Mrs. Parnell, I don’t think that I under—”

“I hear some hesitation in your voice, Becky,” Celia told her honestly. “Is there anything wrong?”

The woman’s concern was gratifying, Becky thought. But she was quick to set her mind at ease. “Oh no, not with them,” she assured her employer.

“Well, whatever’s wrong is certainly not with you,” Celia responded. “But I can tell that there’s something bothering you...”

Becky sighed. Since the woman was asking, she didn’t try to put her off. That would be lying. “To be honest, it’s about my apartment.”

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