Page 23 of She’ll Steal Your Heart
“No problem.”
Mia heard Lauren’s footsteps as she crossed the room and then the whir of the blinds as they closed. Lola meowed, probably disgruntled at the disruption to her evening people watching.
“Sorry, Lola, but your mom’s eyes are sensitive right now,” Lauren said.
Mia smiled. She hadn’t told Lauren her eyes were sensitive. She must have known someone else who suffered from migraines, or perhaps she got them herself.
“Have you eaten?” Lauren asked, and Mia assumed this question was directed at her, although Lola would no doubt appreciate the sentiment too.
“No, and unfortunately, I don’t have much to offer,” Mia told her. Since the divorce, she’d realized that Kristin had been the one who coordinated their grocery deliveries and cooked most nights. On her own, Mia apparently had no idea how to maintain a properly stocked kitchen.
“You should eat something,” Lauren said. “Especially if the medication is irritating your stomach. Creating meals out of random ingredients is kind of my superpower. Trust me in your kitchen?”
“Sure,” Mia told her, resisting the urge to move the cloth from her eyes and peek at her. Lauren sounded so completely in her element right now, and Mia wanted to see what that confidence looked like. “But don’t feel bad if you fail, because my pantry is really pathetic.”
Lauren laughed. “I’ll make do. Want me to freshen that cloth for you before I start?”
“No, I’m fine,” Mia said, and actually, she did feel better now. Maybe the cloth had helped, or the ibuprofen was kicking in…or maybe it just felt good to let someone take care of her for a few minutes. Mia relaxed as she listened to Lauren poke through her cabinets.
“Have you ever tried prescription migraine meds?” Lauren asked. “Surely there’s something out there that wouldn’t irritate your stomach.”
“I haven’t, but I’m sure you’re right. I always used to say I was too busy to look into it, but I don’t have that excuse anymore,” she admitted.
“You should really see your doctor and get a prescription.”
“I should,” Mia agreed. “I will.” She’d quit practicing law in part to take better care of herself, after all.
“Good. I can’t believe you don’t even have pasta,” Lauren said with laughter in her voice.
Mia groaned. “I tried to warn you, but in my defense, according to my dad, I’m too Italian to eat pasta from a box anyway.”
Lauren’s laughter intensified. “Okay, but out of curiosity, what qualifies as too Italian to eat pasta from a box?”
“He was born there. He moved to New York for college and stayed here.”
“That’s pretty cool. I’m guessing he makes amazing pasta from scratch, then.”
“He does.” Mia’s lips curved in a smile. Her dad was an amazing cook.
She heard Lauren rummaging through cabinets and then the sound of something sizzling in a pan. A savory scent filled the air. What on earth had Lauren found to cook? Mia tried to think what she had in her pantry, but thinking hurt, so she just sat there, listening. Lauren murmured something, and Lola meowed in response. She really did have a way with cats.
“Dinner’s ready,” Lauren announced a few minutes later.
Mia removed the cloth from her face and opened her eyes, squinting against the light. Lauren was walking toward her with a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other. The plate held some kind of grilled sandwich that looked and smelled amazing. “How did you… What did you possibly find in my pantry to make this?”
“Oh, it’s just a grilled cheese,” Lauren said as she handed the plate to Mia, followed by the glass. “You should drink up too. Staying hydrated will help with the headache.”
“Thank you.” Mia took a dutiful gulp of water before setting the glass on the table in front of her. “This is a fancy-looking grilled cheese.”
“I found some French bread that looked pretty stale, but stale bread is actually perfect for toasting,” Lauren said cheerfully as she sat across from her. “And you had some cheddar and gouda in the fridge.”
Mia couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a grilled cheese sandwich. If someone had asked her, she would have said they were for children, but as she took a bite, she almost groaned in appreciation. The bread was hot and crispy, and gooey cheese met her tongue in an explosion of flavor. “This is delicious.”
Lauren beamed at her. “I’m glad.”
“Didn’t you make one for yourself?”
“No.” Lauren waved a hand in front of her face. “I’m fine.”
