The Perfect Recipe for Love and Friendship

by Shirley Jump

  Ma drew back and turned to her middle daughter and cupped her face with both hands. Ma’s eyes filled, and her lips trembled. “Oh my, you are a beautiful bride, Abigail. But…you aren’t quite…all together.”

  Abby sighed and tried to turn away. “Ma, come on—”

  “You still need something borrowed.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a pressed square of linen with two letters embroidered in dark blue on the corner. She closed Abby’s hand over it. “This was your father’s handkerchief. I thought you’d want a little piece of him here today. Because I know he’d want to be here, and if he was, he’d be so proud of you.”

  Abby pressed the handkerchief to her nose, inhaling the long-ago scent of the father they all missed. “Thank you, Ma. This is…perfect.”

  “He loved you, Abby, and he understood you.” Ma bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the tile floor. Bridget could see her struggling with the words, with the chore of talking about something deeper than how much yeast to add to the sourdough bread.

  “It’s okay, Ma,” Abby said. “Let’s just go inside the office.”

  “Wait. Please. Let me say one more thing.” Ma brushed a lock of hair off of Abby’s forehead, the move full of tenderness and love. “You were always so…strong and determined and tough. I never knew what to do with you or how to connect with you. Some of that was my fault, I know, and I’m sorry, Abby. What do I need to do so we can…try again?”

  “Just accept me as I am, Ma.” Abby caught her mother’s hand in hers. “That’s all you have to do.”

  “I will, because I don’t want to lose you.” Ma looked at her other girls, and the tears in her eyes carved a fissure in the steel armor Colleen O’Bannon wore every day. “I don’t want to lose any of you. I’ve made some terrible mistakes, things I’m not proud of, things that drove you girls away, and I’m…I’m sorry. I truly am.”

  “Aw, Ma, come on. I didn’t want to cry today. I forgot to wear waterproof mascara.” But Magpie was already crying, heedless of the makeup blurring under her eyes.

  “Me too. I’m so sorry, girls. I love all of you. I always have.” Ma drew Magpie into a hug and then grabbed Nora and Bridget too. The four O’Bannon girls and their mother stood in the middle of Boston City Hall, crying and hugging, and beginning to erase years of hurt.

  The city clerk’s office door opened, and a short elderly woman poked her head out. “Miller and O’Bannon family? Are you ready to get married?”

  * * *

  The primroses had died back, their happy white faces gone until next spring. Bridget stepped out onto the deck and caught the scent of summer in the air. Soon it would be too hot to stand out here in the middle of the day, but for now, she was going to enjoy the gentle sun and soft breeze. Behind her, the post-wedding party was in full swing, but at this family gathering, instead of dour black and soft tones, the O’Bannon girls were loud and happy and singing. It was a good sound, one she hadn’t heard in years.

  Bridget kicked off her shoes, placed them on the top step, and then walked down to the grass. She’d gotten the lawn mower out herself last night and mowed the yard—twice—because it had grown so long in the weeks since she canceled the lawn service. There’d been a certain satisfaction in cutting long, straight lines up and down the yard. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a job she’d done all on her own. And that felt good. Really good.

  There were also new flowers—bright red geraniums that ringed the edges of the lawn. She’d planted six dozen of the annuals yesterday and watered them twice, giving them a head start for the warmer days ahead.

  “You must have given that plant I bought you one hell of a lot of Miracle-Gro.”

  Bridget turned at the sound of Garrett’s voice. He still wore the same dark suit from earlier today—dark pants, dark jacket, white button-down. He’d forgone the tie he had on this morning and left the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Heat curled inside her, a desire for this man, for his touch, his kiss, his voice. “I cloned it in my spare time.”

  He chuckled. “A woman of many talents.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” A throaty laugh escaped her, a flirty sound she almost didn’t recognize. It felt…liberating to flirt with him, to tease him. To see his eyes widen and his gaze drop to her lips for a moment.

  He cleared his throat. “So, I met your family a second ago.”

  Oh good Lord. She hadn’t thought of that when she’d gone outside. After meeting her family, it was a wonder the man was still here. She never should have left him alone with them. She could only imagine what her sisters and mother had said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know for sure when you’d be arriving and I shouldn’t have left you—”

  He put up a hand to stop her. “They’re nice, Bridget. I liked them. Your mother tried to load me up with a plate of food, but I told her I wanted to see you first.” He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and let his touch linger. She wanted to lean into his hand and stay there for hours. “I know I said I wanted to take things slow, but ever since that kiss, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Same here.” God, she felt as giddy and shy as a teenager. She liked his eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners, the light reflected in them. Being with Garrett was so…easy. With Jim, she’d always felt like she had to try, as if there was some test she needed to pass. Garrett took everything in stride, and she found herself more drawn to his laid-back spirit every second. “It’s getting harder and harder to remember why we were taking things slow.”

  “That’s good to hear you say,” Garrett said, and leaned in and closed the distance between them. “Real good.” The words skimmed her lips, and the heat in his breath made her edge closer.

  Garrett cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. Not the easy, sweet kiss they’d shared in the hall, but a deeper, slower kiss that awakened her in waves. Tender then hot, gentle yet sensual.

  Damn. The man knew how to kiss. And that told Bridget there was a good chance he knew how to do everything else just as well. Anticipation for more coiled inside her.

  How long had it been since she’d been with a man? At least six months. Jim hadn’t touched her in two or three months before he died. And now the want for Garrett measured on a Richter scale. Especially given how damned good he kissed.

  His hands slid down to her waist, thumbs resting in the divot above her hips, and she wondered vaguely if there was another spot on her body quite that sensitive. She pressed into him, and his kiss deepened, hotter now, faster, the waves becoming a rushing surf. Finally, he pulled back, the two of them breathless. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll be doing things I definitely shouldn’t be doing in your backyard during your sister’s wedding reception.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, leaning against his chest, listening to the thudding of his heart. Happy to hear it racing as fast as her own. “It gives us something to look forward to later.”

  “I have a thousand things I’m anticipating with you, Bridget.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head and then wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her even closer. They stayed there for a long while, letting the breeze dance in their hair, listening to the strains of music coming from the stereo inside the house.

  Something flickered in the shrubs at the back of the yard. Bridget leaned forward and looked again. Another movement, a shadow, and then she saw it again. “Oh my,” Bridget whispered. “I think it’s back.”

  “What’s back?” Garrett said.

  “The hummingbird.” She pointed across the yard just as the tiny bird darted out of the shrubs and hovered over the bloomless primroses. He zipped back and forth, maybe looking for the primrose flowers, then flitted away. “Oh no. He left.”

  “Shhh,” Garrett said. “Give it a minute.”

  Just when she was about to give up, the hummingbird returned, his body riding the slight breeze, past the primroses, over the shrubs, bypassing the geraniums, and then straight across the lawn. He darted past the k
itchen window, overshooting it, and for a second she thought he was going to leave again. Then at the last moment, he U-turned and zipped back around and up to the feeder. He lifted his long beak, wings beating so fast they looked like they weren’t moving at all. He hovered for a moment and dipped his beak in to taste the red nectar.

  “Hey, he likes the feeder,” Garrett said. “Can I say I told you so?”

  “You can.” The hummingbird darted in for a second drink, backed up, then in again, and back, over and over. It was such a silly thing to get so excited about a visit from a bird no bigger than her palm, but it gave Bridget a sense of satisfaction. This one living thing had depended on her, and she’d come through after all. “Did I ever tell you how I first found him?”

  “You found him?”

  She nodded. “On the day of the funeral, I was sitting on the deck. Mostly avoiding my mother.” And the expectations and the quiet and all the sadness in her house, but she didn’t add that. Bridget pointed toward the flowers at the back of the yard. “I saw something moving in the primroses, and as I got closer, I realized it was the hummingbird, caught in a spiderweb. He was smaller then, probably just a baby. I cleaned the web off his body, and he sat on my hand—for just a second—and then he flew away. I always felt like…” She shook her head. “This is going to sound crazy.”

  “No, it won’t.” He took her hand in his. “Tell me.”

  She looked into his eyes and took a leap in trusting him. Garrett seemed genuinely interested, and she got the sense he wouldn’t tease her for believing in the impossible once in a while. “I always thought that the hummingbird was a sign. Or a messenger, you know? My grandma believed in those kinds of things, and I could just hear her telling me to pay attention to whatever message he was bringing.”

  Garrett watched the hummingbird make his rounds of the yard before returning to the kitchen window feeder. “Makes sense. I believe in that kind of thing. There are those little whispers in the back of your head that make you turn left instead of right, and you end up avoiding a five-car pileup. Or the letter that comes at just the right time, encouraging you to take a chance on that new job. There are signs and messages all around us, if we’re willing to listen. Even if they come in the form of hummingbirds. So, what message do you think he was bringing you?”

  She thought about that question for a long time, watching the hummingbird skip from hole to hole on the feeder. She could see her sisters inside the kitchen, watching the bird too. They were smiling and pointing, clearly enjoying the up-close look at Mother Nature.

  The first time she’d seen him, her husband had just died, and her world had come to a screeching halt. The second time she’d seen him, she’d been wallowing in her grief and fear, afraid to leave her bed, her house. And now the hummingbird had returned on the very day her family had come back together, this time in celebration, not sadness. The little guy wasn’t caught in a dangerous web this time but had returned stronger and happier.

  That sure as hell seemed like a sign to her. And maybe that was why she hadn’t seen him for so long—he was waiting for her to be ready too. For her to be untangled and ready to move on to new things.

  Bridget thought of how her life had changed in these months. How much it was going to change in the months going forward. “I think…” She could hear her grandmother’s voice whispering to her, He brought you the signs you needed when you needed them, dear Bridget. “I think that the hummingbird was meant to show me that I could escape my own web. I felt caught for so many years, and I didn’t even know it. Not until one giant life event changed everything.”

  “Sometimes we need a big wake-up call.” Garrett raised her hand with his, gesturing toward the tiny bird filling his belly with sugar water. “You know what I think that is over there? That’s hope. That even in the darkest times, life prevails and finds a way.”

  “Even when it seems like the path you need to take is impossible to find?”

  “Even then.” Garrett turned and took her in his arms. “I have been there, Bridget, in that dark, impossible place. You just have to keep fighting to see the light. And be brave enough to step out into it.”

  “To move on, and move out.” She stepped out of his arms and spun a slow circle in the yard. She would be leaving this space behind, but she would find another place, with another yard, and plant geraniums and primroses there. “Tomorrow, I’m putting this place on the market. I have to find someplace else to live, someplace I can actually afford.”

  “I can help you with that.”

  She cocked her head. “You’re not offering to marry me, right? Because I am definitely not ready for that.”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I do own some rental properties, remember? And I have a tiny little Cape that’s going to be available next month. It’s maybe a half mile from here, and a few blocks away from the bakery. And it has a great yard that’s sure to attract lots of hummingbirds.”

  “I’m…I’m not sure I’ll still be working at the bakery.” She hadn’t talked to her mother yet. She glanced at her family, now no longer in the kitchen watching the hummingbird but instead standing on the deck, pretending to talk but really making no secret of watching her with Garrett. Always in her business, but this time, Bridget didn’t really care.

  “Well, keep it in mind. Keep me in mind.”

  A little Cape-style house. She closed her eyes, and she could imagine it. See herself sitting on the front porch, hanging white lace curtains in the kitchen windows, maybe planting a little garden out back. “Do you allow pets? Like a little dog?”

  He smiled at her. “I think we can work something out. I love dogs, and I don’t have one of my own right now. So maybe I could waive the pet deposit in exchange for some fetch time.”

  “I think that can be arranged. I’d like to take a look at the house as soon as possible, Garrett.” She plucked a leaf from one of the geraniums and rubbed it between her fingers until it released a lemony green scent, fresh and bright. “For the first time in years, I don’t know what my future is going to hold, and that’s exciting and scary, all at the same time. All I know is that I’m in control of every decision I make going forward. I only hope I make the right ones.”

  “There are no right decisions, Bridget,” he said. “There’s only the one that feels best at that moment in time. Look at him.” Garrett pointed at the hummingbird. “He isn’t thinking too much farther down the road beyond fattening up for his long journey south in a few months. What happens next season or the one after that is too far away for him to think about. All we have is right here, right now.”

  She looked up at the women on her deck, the women who had helped shape her and mold her, in good ways and bad. They were a pain in the ass, but she loved them, and she was damned grateful to have every single one of them here. “Right here, right now, is pretty damned good if you ask me.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  The next morning, Bridget scribbled out a note for Garrett. She’d left him, still asleep in her bed. He’d stayed last night, sitting in the kitchen with her and her sisters, playing cards for hours. When everyone else had finally gone home—with Aunt Mary taking Ma up on her offer to stay at her house for the night, Garrett had remained. They’d sat outside and talked until the wee hours. Then she’d led him into her bedroom and found out that, yes, he did do everything as well as he kissed. He was a generous man in bed, giving so much more to her than he took for himself, leaving her sated in a thousand different ways. Even now, operating on just a handful of hours of sleep, Bridget was still smiling.

  She propped the note beside a blueberry muffin and a brewed pot of coffee, and then got in her car and wound her way through the crowded streets of Dorchester. It was still dark out but already warmer than yesterday. She could smell fresh tar, newly laid in yet another road-improvement project on her way to work that had tied up traffic and diverted the growing number of commuters into neighborhoods, filling the narrow side streets like water trickling into a pipe.
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br />   Two detours later, Bridget parked in back of the bakery. Nora’s car was already in its customary space beside Ma’s. Bridget shut off her car, pocketed the keys, and went in through the back door, a little hesitant because she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she was going to receive. The last time she was here, she’d read her mother the riot act and stormed out, vowing never to return.

  A Meghan Trainor song was playing on the kitchen radio—and Ma, Nora, and Magpie were all humming along with the catchy tune as they worked. Bridget stopped and gaped at them. “One, music while we work, and two, all of you are humming it?”

  “I thought maybe we could stand to change a couple things around here.” Ma shrugged and went back to pressing a rolling pin against an oval of pie dough. “It’s about time you got here, Bridget. We need four vanilla sponge and two chocolate within the hour. No time for chitchat.”

  Guess that meant she didn’t have to worry about her job, or that everything would change overnight. In a way, that was kind of comforting. Bridget slid her apron over her head and tied it behind her back. “Magpie, what are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d spend a couple days with you misfits, helping out at the bakery. Like old times.”

  “Meaning you’re going to burn the muffins and forget to add sugar to the brownies?” Nora teased.

  Magpie flicked a towel at Nora’s hip. “Hey, there’s a reason they pay me to write, not bake.”

  Bridget laughed. Damn, it was good to have her sisters back. Even Ma was smiling as her hands made quick work with the piecrust dough.

  “So…Bridge, you want to tell us about this new guy? A guy who was still there when we all went home, I might add,” Nora said.

  Magpie started pouring brownie batter into a waiting pan. “Oh, and in case he didn’t tell you, there was a quiz when we met him, and he passed with flying colors.”

  “As he should. Any person who wants to marry one of my daughters better treat them right,” Ma said.