The Secrets Between Them. Nikki Benjamin
Nellie have a nap with me? Please, Mommy, please.”
“Let me see how much it’s going to be to get her cleaned off.” Luckily, the dog had stayed on the porch while they ate lunch. Luckily, too, the mud on her paws had dried enough so that it flaked off easily enough. Thus one less battle before Will settled down to rest was eliminated.
With boy and dog stretched out on Will’s twin bed, Hannah returned to the kitchen to wash the dishes they’d used at lunch. The task usually required only a few minutes of her time. But that afternoon she lingered far longer than necessary, fingers sifting through the froth of soap bubbles atop the sink full of warm water, her thoughts miles away.
Well, not miles away, she acknowledged when at last she pulled the stopper and let the now brackish water drain away. More like a few hundred yards or so—just down the drive to the vegetable gardens where Evan Graham was working, likely with his shirt off, his bare chest bronzing in the sun….
Giving herself a firm mental shake, Hannah left the dishes to dry on the drain board and stepped out the back door onto the deck. She had better things to do than moon over Evan Graham.
Okay, maybe not necessarily better, but certainly more productive. And just then being productive was the best thing she could think of to do.
Chapter Four
“That was an excellent meal, Hannah,” Evan said, trying not to wince too noticeably as he stood, picked up his plate, silverware and glass and started across the kitchen to the sink. “Eggplant Parmesan is a favorite of mine and I haven’t had any as good as yours, even in a fancy, high-priced restaurant. Your Italian salad was wonderful, too.”
“Thanks a lot,” Hannah replied. She paused to collect Will’s dishes as well as her own before joining him at the sink. “I have another pan of it in the freezer so it will definitely be on the menu again. In a few weeks we’ll have lettuce fresh from the garden for our salads, too. You’ll be amazed at how much better it is than store-bought.”
“Worth all the hard work, huh?” he asked.
Turning on the faucet, he rinsed the plates, then taking the initiative even further, he plugged the sink and poured in a dollop of dish detergent.
“Just wait and see,” she said, adding as he put the dishes in the hot, soapy water, “Hey, you don’t have to do the dishes for me.”
Wincing inwardly, this time as a result of the pang of guilt Hannah’s sprightly “just wait and see” had caused him, Evan scrubbed a plate with the dishcloth.
“You cooked. Let me at least help a little with the cleanup,” he requested with a smile.
“I mostly chopped lettuce, sliced onions and tomatoes, and slid the casserole dish in the oven. You worked hard all day, clearing beds and hauling debris to the compost bin.”
“You worked hard, too, moving all those seedlings out of the greenhouses and onto the deck.”
“I worked hard, too, didn’t I, Mommy?” Will demanded, bouncing over to the sink, empty glass in hand. “And I finished all my milk. Can I please watch television now?”
“Yes, you worked hard, too, and thank you for finishing all your milk, and yes, you may watch television, but only for one hour.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
Mother and son exchanged a quick hug, then Will bounded off to the living room, the ever-faithful Nellie close at his heels. Taking a clean towel from the drawer and selecting a dish from the drain board to dry, Hannah seemed to accept his offer without further argument.
“He’s a really good child, isn’t he?” Evan asked, voicing his thought aloud after they had worked together for a few minutes in silence. “Very bright and well-adjusted.”
“Do I detect the faintest hint of surprise in your voice?” Hannah quizzed in return, only half-teasingly.
Glancing at her, Evan saw that beneath her pleasant demeanor, her steady gaze held a very definite challenge in it. He could lie to her, as he already was in so many ways that could prove to be hurtful, or make an attempt at being honest. Since he only lied out of absolute necessity in order to get a job done, he chose now to tell the truth.
“Yes, actually, I’m sure you did,” he said, focusing his attention on the sink full of dirty dishes submerged in the soapy water. “You’re a widow on you own here, raising your son without any help. Both you and Will have had to deal with the death of your husband, his father. That has to have taken an emotional toll on the two of you. Grief can often lead to anger and depression that can then be directed at an innocent party. I’ve seen that happen in the past, but I don’t see any indication of that happening with you and Will.”
Several beats of silence followed Evan’s comments causing him to glance again at Hannah. She wasn’t looking at him, but staring instead at the plate she held, continuing to rub it with her towel though it had already been thoroughly dried. The corners of her mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown, as she seemed to search for a reasonable reply.
“My husband was…ill for a long time,” she said at last, glancing up at him, then quickly away again. “By the time he died…we’d had time to accept that we were losing him.” She hesitated, took a deep breath, then continued quietly. “We did grieve for him. But his death was also a blessing for…all of us. I think that made it a little easier for us to cope with our sadness. It helped, too, that Will was old enough at the time to understand a lot of…things.” She paused again, finally set aside the plate and reached for another. “As you said, he’s very bright and well-adjusted. I’m very lucky in that respect.”
“He’s lucky, too, Hannah—you’re a very bright, very loving and understanding mother.” And a fascinating woman, Evan silently noted.
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