Page 47 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

“A photographer…?” Her face grew shadowed, the smile freezing in place as memories seemed to take over behind her eyes as well. He wondered what she was recalling—if it was the same mental album of faded Polaroids that he had just seen. He wanted to shake her out of it, since he knew how unpleasant parts of it could be. But maybe if she remembered the good parts, too…

Her face shuttered and her eyes grew flat. “Let’s go,” shesaid, not waiting for him to follow her to the stationery store before entering on her own. He watched as she hobbled in, with her ankle brace barely supporting her.

He sighed.

So maybe she doesn’t remember the good parts, after all,he thought. And then he shifted the phone into his back pocket, making his way to the stationery shop behind her.

17

“Ta-da!”

Peering over the table, Julia looked into the serving dish with anticipation.

After they had all returned from town, everyone slightly quieter than they had been when they’d driven there, they’d all gone their separate ways. Noah and Katy excused themselves to freshen up for dinner, and Ethan mumbled something about having emails to check. Instead of finding Maggie and going over the dinner menu, Julia found herself bypassing the kitchen area completely to go to her room, close the door, and flop down on the bed. Her ankle throbbed, and so did her head, and the few seconds she told herself she was closing her eyes for had turned into almost an hour.

She had rushed into the kitchen to check on Maggie after waking up, only to be shooed out with assurances that all was in hand. There was a plethora of veggies chopped on the cutting board, and the savory scents of garlic and tomato emanatedfrom the simmering pan on the stove, but nothing else really gave any indication of what it was that she’d be serving up.

Which was why Julia was pleasantly surprised at dinner when the serving dish was brought out, with vegetables perfectly cooked and seasoned, layered and arranged like a work of art, thin slices of Yukon Gold potatoes tucked among them, forming the easily recognizable pattern of—

“Ratatouille!” Maggie announced, much in the same way she had declaredTa-da!moments earlier. “I made this version with potatoes as well as eggplant, bell pepper, zucchini, summer squash, onion, and tomato. No meat,” she added proudly, cheeks still flushed from the overheated kitchen.

“Oh, sick,” Noah exclaimed, peering over the Dutch oven along with Julia and the others. “I love that rat.”

“Looksamazing,” Katy said admiringly, beaming up at Maggie. “Thank you so much for accommodating me, Maggie.”

“Oh—” Maggie’s easily flushed cheeks turned even redder than usual. “It’s no problem at all. I hope you like it.”

“Maggie, did you bring up some of my bread as well?” Julia asked, her brain working to see what else could be eaten with ratatouille. Which, while impressively appetizing-looking and hearty, was still, really, only vegetables.

“Oh, no,” Maggie said, passing out dinner plates. “The bread was getting stale. I’m going to use it for croutons. I made some brown rice, grilled Halloumi, and mashed potatoes instead.”

“Oh my god,” Katy groaned in appreciation, and Julia noted how even her groans were melodic-sounding things. “That sounds heavenly. Can I help you bring anything up?”

“Well…” Maggie looked over at Julia, who immediately feltguilty for sitting instead of helping to serve their guests as she should have been and started to get up.

Katy, however, waved her down as she pushed her chair back.

“Don’t be silly,” she admonished lightly, making her way around the table. “You’ve been on your feet all day, and I’m sure your ankle is killing you. I’m happy to help Maggie. We aren’t traditional guests anyway—don’t go to any trouble for us.”

Before Julia could get more than half a foot off her chair, Katy had linked arms with Maggie and the two women had made their way out of the dining area, leaving Julia with the two men.

She looked between them, feeling awkward, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Was it because she knew she should have been up and about as well? Helping Maggie and perhaps running her business?

“Should I pour us some wine?” she blurted out, half standing out of her seat again. She didn’t usually drink wine personally, but she kept a decent supply on hand for guests. They were close enough to wine country that she had made arrangements with a few of the different wineries in the area to keep her supplied, and in return, she directed her guests their way. Maggie’s family had also donated a few bottles, insisting they would go to waste at their place.

“Wine sounds great.” Before she’d even processed the thought, let alone fully gotten out of her seat, Ethan was up instead. “Where can we find some?”

“Well…” Julia looked over at her decorative wine hutch, and Ethan’s eyes followed the direction of her gaze.

“Aha!”

He went over to peruse her limited selection. An image came to her then, unbidden, of his mom at a different table in the same cottage, empty wine bottles in front of her and an equally empty gaze staring off into the distance.

“This looks decent,” he said, dissolving the image like a cloud of smoke as he pulled out a black bottle with a red scrawl in intricate script across the front label.

“Based off what?” Julia scoffed, forgetting for a second that she shouldn’t be so familiar with him. “Your extensive wine knowledge?”

“Well, actually,” Ethan said, looking just shy of indignant, “I’ve learned a thing or two about wines in my day.” Their eyes caught, and she wondered if he was thinking of his mom, too, before he cleared his throat and continued. “For example, I know this is a Brunello, which means it’s from Tuscany. And that it’s…red.”