As she and Melinda brought the bags and boxes inside, Tia questioned the way Leo had described his parents’ home to her. Hadn’t he made it sound like it was modest? At least compared to Roland and Julie’s home? This house was just as grand as her aunt and uncle’s—maybe more so—and it looked a lot bigger. But when Melinda led her to the kitchen, Tia observed that the backyard, while pretty with its lush green landscaping and swimming pool, didn’t have a bay view. Maybe that’s what Leo had meant.
“This is a lovely home,” Tia said as they started to unload groceries.
“Thanks,” a woman said from behind Tia.
“Hey, Mom,” Melinda said as Mrs. Parker came into the kitchen. She was dressed casually in an oversized chambray shirt and blue jeans, and once again, Tia could see that Leo resembled his mother.
“Tia the talented chef has arrived.”
Tia smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Parker.”
Tia nodded, suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous. “Okay.”
“Melinda tells me that you’re going to do some amazing cooking and we get to keep the results.”
“It will be sort of a mishmash of entrees.” Tia explained her plan to cook individual servings, plate and garnish them, then let Melinda get her photos. “It’ll make kind of a grab bag sort of dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding?” Joy peeked into one of the bags. “Oysters?”
“Yes.” Tia removed the plastic bag of oysters. “For appetizers.”
“Wonderful!”
“Leo invited himself for dinner,” Melinda said as she opened a box, removing a white plate trimmed in navy with the Pacific Pearl’s monogram in the center. “Pretty, huh?”
“Yes.” Joy nodded. “It will be fun to see it all come together on the boat. I already told Jim that I expect him to take me for a dinner cruise on our anniversary in early August. You will be running by then, won’t you?”
“That’s the plan,” Tia assured her. “Julie really wants us to be running by mid-July.”
“Do you need any help in here?” Joy asked as Tia set out a package of scallops.
“I already volunteered,” Melinda said quickly. “I figure it’ll be sort of like one-day culinary school.”
“I’m happy to lend a hand if you need it,” Joy offered.
“We’ll be fine,” Tia assured her. “Thank you for the loan of your kitchen. It looks well equipped. You must be a cook.”
“I enjoy cooking.” Joy smiled. “If I wasn’t in the middle of a painting, I’d ask if I could just sit here and watch. But I should probably get back before my muse disappears.”
“You’re an artist?” Tia asked with interest.
Joy shrugged. “Well . . . I’m a painter. I have a hard time calling myself an artist. It feels a bit pretentious and—”
“Oh, Mom.” Melinda rolled her eyes. “You’re a really good artist.”
“Thank you, but I expect my family to say that.” She winked at Tia.
“What sort of painting do you do?” Tia asked. “I mean, what medium?”
“Mostly acrylics. I’m too impatient for oils.”
“I know what you mean,” Tia said. “When I tried oils it got pretty muddy.”
“You’re a painter too?”
“Not really. I just dabble. Mostly sketches. Pen and ink. Watercolor sometimes. I’ve been collecting a lot of photos here in San Francisco, a lot of shots of the waterfront and the boats. Should be enough to keep me busy for a while.”
“I saw a beautiful watercolor of a boat in the stateroom,” Melinda said suddenly. “Did you do that?”
Tia smiled self-consciously. “Yeah.”
“Would you like to see my studio?” Joy offered.
“I’d love to.” Tia glanced at Melinda.
“Go ahead,” Melinda told her. “I’ll unload the bags.”
“I’ve always loved art,” Joy said as she led Tia out into the backyard. “But I started getting serious about it around ten years ago. Probably about the same time my children started needing me a lot less.” She laughed. “Anyway, I wanted a separate place to do art. Someplace I could hide myself away and know that no one would come poking around.”
Joy pointed to a small cottage-like structure with lots of windows. Opening a set of French doors, she waved her hand. “Welcome to my studio.”
“Oh my.” Tia stared in wonder. “It’s lovely.”
Joy smiled as she crossed her arms in front. “It is nice, isn’t it?”
“It’s better than nice. It’s absolutely perfect.” Tia walked around, taking it all in. The shelves were filled with art supplies, and the generous counters were arrayed with various artifacts, glass jars, and interesting objects. But it was the large windows with sunlight flooding in that really won her over. “You must love being out here.”
“I do.”
Tia pointed at the backside of the easel. “Is that what you’re working on?”
Joy nodded.
“May I look? I’ll totally understand if you don’t want me to. I mean, I never enjoy someone looking over my shoulder when I’ve got a work in progress.”
“Because you are a fellow artist, I will let you have a sneak peek,” Joy told her.
Tia went around to see, hoping that it wasn’t something truly bad that she’d have to pretend to like. To her relief it was a lovely landscape. “Is that a vineyard?” she asked.
“Yes,” Joy said with enthusiasm. She pointed to some photos that were taped to a board. “This is the inspiration. It’s actually a consignment piece for a friend. It’s her vineyard in Napa.”
“It’s beautiful.” Tia studied the photos and the partially finished painting. “You really know how to capture the light. Actually you more than captured it—it’s like you’ve brought it to life.”
“Well, thank you.” Joy beamed at her.
“I’ll let you get back to it, although I doubt your muse will be trying to run out on this. It’s too lovely to leave.”
Joy walked her to the door. “I hope you’ll let me see your work sometime.”
Tia grinned. “You’ll see my work at dinnertime.”
Joy laughed. “That’s right.”
As Tia returned to the house, she almost wished she hadn’t liked Joy Parker so much. It just figured that Leo would have such a delightful mother. Of course, Tia reminded herself, she was Melinda’s mother too. Why not just focus on that?
“Ready to rock and roll?” Melinda asked.
“Yep.” Tia nodded as she reached for a bundle of asparagus. “Your mom’s studio is amazing.”
“She doesn’t show it to just anyone. It’s like her secret hideaway.”
“I can understand that.”
“Tell me what to do,” Melinda said eagerly. “I’m your kitchen servant.”
For the next hour, they worked together prepping the foods they would use for the plates, and then Tia began to cook. After creating one dish at a time, just like she’d do in a restaurant, Tia would hand them over to Melinda, who took them outside to the table she’d set up on the patio, complete with linens and a small crystal vase with flowers, and took lots of photos. When she was satisfied with the results, she returned the plates to the kitchen, where they wrapped them in plastic wrap and stashed them in the fridge.
By 5:30, they were done with the last food photos and Tia was cleaning up the kitchen and explaining how Melinda could warm up the various entrees to serve to her family at dinnertime.
“Where are you going?” Melinda asked as she turned on the dishwasher.
“Back to the boat.”
“Not until after dinner,” Melinda insisted. “You can’t cook all that fabulous food and not eat some of it.”
“Well, I—”
“Besides, I’m your ride, remember?” Melinda pulled out a pitcher of iced tea. “I think we should enjoy a nice break until dinner.”
They went outside to relax, and since the sun was still beaming down warmly, they sat by the side of the pool, dangling their feet in the water and chatting congenially.
“I see this is where the party is,” Natalie said as she joined them.
“What’re you doing here?” Melinda asked.
“Leo said Tia was cooking dinner for everyone.” Natalie grinned. “I sort of invited myself. I hope it’s okay.”
“Sure,” Tia said. “There’s plenty of food.”
“Great.” Natalie removed her suit jacket, kicked off her shoes, then sat down next to Melinda, dipping her perfectly pedicured feet into the water. “Ahhh, now this is just what I needed. Do you know it got into the low nineties in the city today?”
“It seemed pretty warm,” Melinda said. “Hey, do you want some tea?”
“That sounds lovely.”
“I can get it.” Tia jumped to her feet. “I want to check on something in the kitchen anyway.” Before they could protest, she hurried off. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be around Natalie . . . not exactly, anyway. But remembering what Melinda had said about the bridesmaid thing was unsettling. The last thing she wanted right now was to have to invent some believable excuse for declining.
“I took a peek at the plates in the fridge,” Joy confessed as Tia went into the kitchen. “We usually don’t eat until around 7:00, but I’m not sure I can wait that long.”
“Do you like oysters on the half shell?” Tia asked.
“Are you kidding?” Joy’s eyes lit up.
“I made mignonette sauce.” Tia opened the fridge, removing a covered dish with oysters already shucked and on the shell, anchored on a bed of rock salt. As she removed the lid, Joy let out a happy sigh. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” Tia said as she produced the container of sauce, watching as Joy stuck a little seafood fork into the oyster, dipped it in the sauce, then slurped it down.
“Oh my!” Joy’s expression was just short of heavenly. “That sauce is fabulous. Mind if I have another?”
“You can have as many as you like.” Tia held the dish out for her to take another half shell.
“Wow, that is really wonderful.” Joy held up her hands. “But I’m going to control myself now—and wait for dinner.”
“Okay.” Tia re-covered the dish and returned it to the fridge. “I was just getting Natalie some iced tea.”
“Nat’s here?” Joy pulled out a couple of tumblers, dropping ice into both of them.
“Yeah. She’s out with Melinda.” Tia got the pitcher out, filling up the two glasses in Joy’s hands.
“I better go say hello to my future daughter-in-law,” Joy said as they went back outside. As they crossed the patio, Joy started singing “Here Comes the Bride,” and to be a good sport, Tia joined in. But if anyone was really listening to her, they would hear the sadness in her voice.