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MARY-ALICE HAD BEEN late to breakfast because Boon St. Clair showed up to work that morning. Mary-Alice was so used to his not being there that when she saw him in her kitchen, she shrieked with surprise. Everyone laughed at this, including Boon. He looked a little thin, but otherwise healthy.
“Why Boon,” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “It’s wonderful to see you back.”
“Right?” chimed in one of the apprentices, a young woman with skinny, tattooed arms and a bandanna tied over her hair. “You didn’t even tell us you were sick, Boss.”
“No sir,” said one of the men, “you don’t mess with food poisoning.”
“No, I certainly do not recommend it. I’ll be right back.”
Boon moved out to the dining room to talk to Mary-Alice in private.
“Sounds like I owe you a mighty big favor, Miss Mary-Alice,” he said. “Doctor Stewart tells me you might have saved my life.”
“Oh, it wasn’t just me. Fortune and Gertie were there too. I, we hadn’t heard from you in a while so we thought we’d stop by and see how you were doing.”
Boon looked down at his feet, and back up at Mary-Alice.
“I’m not quite a hundred percent,” he said. “It’s gonna take a while for me to build back up. Anyway, I was hoping to ask you something.”
Mary-Alice was aware of her heart thumping. Was he going to bring up the marriage thing again? If he pressed her for an answer now, what would she say? She knew she didn’t want to lose him.
But she hadn’t even known him for a month. Could she ask him to slow things down without hurting his feelings? Especially now, after his brush with death?
“Miss Mary-Alice,” Boon said finally, “I realize this may not be entirely proper, given the circumstances of our acquaintance, and for that I apologize in advance, but...may I take you to lunch some time?”
“Lunch?”
“Not now, of course. But once the kitchen is finished.”
Mary-Alice blinked.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Boon said.
“Boon, I’d love to have lunch with you.”
Boon smiled, and then hurried back into the kitchen to resume working.
Short term memory loss, Mary-Alice thought. He forgot he already asked me to marry him.
Two weeks later, Mary-Alice’s kitchen passed its final inspection. The finished product was even prettier than she’d imagined. White appliances gleamed against bright sunflower-patterned wall tiles. The morning sun streamed through newly-enlarged windows and a skylight. A ductless air conditioner system kept everything cool, and because it was powered by roof-mounted solar panels, it wouldn’t add much to her utility bill.
The next day, when Mary-Alice went out to collect the mail, she found an envelope with the return address St. Clair Contracting, Boon’s company. As she opened it, Mary-Alice felt sad and relieved, in equal measure. Boon was billing her for the job after all, so there would be no question about being in his debt. She hoped it wouldn’t be too expensive. Mary-Alice was by no means wealthy, and this remodel would definitely stretch her finances.
But then she saw that it wasn’t a bill. It was a letter.
Boon St. Clair was happy to inform her that the parish retraining grant had come through. Because of the unique and historic nature of the old Cooper Place, Mary-Alice’s kitchen qualified as an approved training site, and several apprentice certificates would come out of her remodeling project. The grant would pay Boon for his time and materials. Mary-Alice would have the satisfaction of knowing that opening her house to him and his Mudbug Technical College apprentices helped a number of young people. In return, the parish would reserve the right to post photographs of her kitchen on their workforce development website.
The following Sunday, Mary-Alice and Boon St. Clair arrived at Mass at the same time, and sat together in the back pew. Celia sat in the front with her friends, ready to dash off to Francine’s as soon as Father Michael said Amen. Across the street, Fortune, Gertie, and Ida Belle were warming up for their part in the weekly Banana Pudding War.
Mary-Alice glanced at Boon, and he smiled back at her. After Mass, if he suggested taking her to lunch, she would say yes. And someday soon, she might invite him back for a glass of iced tea in her bright new kitchen.