“Let me show you some menu options.” Libbie didn’t want to waste time digging through her bag, so she pulled out the entire contents and set them on the counter.
“How do you do it?” Serena asked as she opened the refrigerator and poked her head inside.
“It’s not hard. I choose a selection of complementary dishes and—”
Serena spun around. “No, not that. Your son. How do you raise a responsible son who has a job and”—she waved a hand—”speaks to you?”
Libbie hesitated, uncertain how to answer the question. She didn’t think she’d done anything special with her kids. They seemed to be great without too much effort from her.
“Caeden doesn’t talk to you?”
“I told you. He grunts. I’m pretty sure he’s lying to me whenever he does deign to speak to me.”
“Have you tried asking him?”
Serena twisted the lid off a bottle of sparkling water. “To be perfectly honest, I think I’m afraid. What if he tells me something I don’t want to know? What if too much talk reveals he’s a horrible teenager? Then I only have myself to blame.”
“I don’t think this is a situation where ignorance is bliss. I know he’s fifteen, but he’s still young enough to need his mother’s guidance.”
Serena’s cheeks were tinged with pink. “What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be unloading my tales of parental woe on you. It’s unprofessional.”
Libbie offered a sympathetic smile. “No judgment here. We all our have our struggles.” She sifted through the contents to find the sample menu, feeling flustered at the thought of appearing disorganized. Her hand brushed over the top of Inga’s book, and the pages flipped open. Libbie froze at the sight of an unfamiliar cocktail recipe—a recipe that definitely hadn’t been there the last time she’d looked.
“Is something wrong?” Serena asked. She moved to stand beside Libbie and glanced at the open book. “Ooh, that looks delicious.”
Libbie stared at the image of the pale pink cocktail with its curled rhubarb garnish.
Serena tapped the page. “This is exactly the kind of cocktail we need for the party. Something different that the guests won’t be tired of. Why don’t you make it for me? I should probably do a taste test, don’t you think?” She winked. “I’ll pour us water for now. I’m sure I can use a little rehydration.”
“You want to make this?” Libbie asked. Her pulse sped up as she contemplated what to do. She was a chef, not a bartender. Besides, she had no idea what the effects of the cocktail would be. What if it harmed Serena? “Wouldn’t you rather see the food menu?”
Serena seemed intent on the cocktail. “As I’m sure you can guess, I have an extensive liquor cabinet.” She inclined her head toward the page. “I even have fennel.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Everybody knows it’s the new celery.”
Libbie could tell she wouldn’t be able to dissuade Serena, and she really needed to book the party. “I’ll need to infuse the vermouth with the fennel. That takes a few days because it needs to chill in the refrigerator.”
“Looks like it will be worth the wait. Why don’t you get started? We can discuss the menu while you work your magic.”
Libbie’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of magic, and she laughed awkwardly. “I’ll do my best.” She cleared her throat, trying to harness her newfound confidence. “Right now, I’ll need a glass container, vermouth, a sieve, rhubarb, and fennel. Oh, and a blender.”
“No problem. My kitchen is your kitchen.”
While Serena retrieved the necessary items, Libbie located the sample menu and placed it on the counter. She couldn’t believe she was actually going through with this. What if the cocktail for Serena upended the woman’s life like the one Libbie made for herself that upended hers? Then again, maybe Serena Kitts’ life needed a bit of upending. She’d already hinted at issues in the brief time Libbie had known her.
Serena sat on a stool at the island while Libbie set to work. She tried to maintain her air of confidence as she followed the first part of the instructions. Despite her regular attendance at the cocktail club meetings, she didn’t consider herself a mixologist. She had a passing interest in some of the more complicated cocktails they’d made over the years, but she’d never even tried to make one for herself at home. The thought hadn’t occurred to her until the night she’d made the recipe from the book.
“Libbie, I have to say, I love your creative spirit,” Serena said, scanning the information. “I’m a big fan of food as an art form.”
“So am I. I just didn’t get to exercise that muscle at my old job, which is why I quit. Chicken parm with five cheeses was the most adventurous thing on the menu.”
Serena laughed. “Oh, the horror. Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you made the right decision. Easy for me to say, though, right? I’m not the one who has to pay your bills.”
The more time Libbie spent with Serena Kitts, the more she liked her. Her first instinct had been to be wary. Women with meticulous appearances and money to burn reminded her too much of her mother, and she tended to steer clear. Arguably, Kate fit that bill, but Libbie and Kate had been friends long before Kate was a YouTube sensation, and the same rules didn’t apply.
They chatted about the menu options and the number of guests. It wouldn’t be a large crowd, for which Libbie was grateful. Thirty to forty people would be enough to satisfy Mrs. Quincy. Libbie needed to get her bearings as a caterer, and this seemed like the ideal way to do it. Serena seemed torn between a few of the appetizers, and Libbie helped her decide based on anticipated guest preferences.
Serena leaned on the island and smiled at Libbie. “I already said you’re hired, right? Because if I didn’t, I’m saying it now.”
A tiny thrill shot through Libbie. Her first client, and one step closer to Mrs. Quincy’s Labor Day party. “That’s great, Serena. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come back in two days to finalize the menu and finish making the cocktail then.”
“Sounds perfect.” Serena rubbed her hands eagerly. “Something to look forward to and now I can tick ‘plan promotion party’ off my list.” She extended an elegant hand, and Libbie noticed she wore a ring on almost every finger. “I’m so pleased you interrupted my liquid lunch. It was like a sign from the universe.”
Libbie smiled uneasily at the mention of the universe, remembering Lorraine’s suggestion to heed what the universe had to teach. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it?”
Later that evening, after the dinner dishes had been cleared away, Libbie sat down to work on Serena Kitts’ menu. She couldn’t stop thinking about the recipe that had appeared while she was at the Kitts’ house. She pulled out the book for another look at Serena’s cocktail.
“What’s that, Mom?” Courtney asked. Her daughter leaned over her shoulder for a closer look. “I like the colors. I bet I could draw something like that.”
Curiosity got the better of Josh, and he came over to look. “That looks like one of the plants in your garden.”
“It’s rhubarb.”
“Do I like rhubarb?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t think you’ve ever had it.” Libbie flipped back to her own recipe on the page before. She started to think about her herb garden and how she might improve it. That would be a good project for her while she was building her business, and it would yield fresh ingredients for her recipes—cocktails included.
She spent so long researching plants and drafting a list of those she wanted to purchase, that she failed to notice the time until the Alexa alarm sounded. “Crap, Alexa, stop.” She closed her notebook and jumped out of her chair, practically colliding with Courtney. “I need to hurry and get showered before I meet the girls.”
“You’re going out again?” Courtney asked.
Libbie heard the note of disappointment in her daughter’s voice. “I know it’s my weekend, but I promise I won’t be long. We need to scatter Inga’s ashes.”
“Can�
��t it wait until another night when Josh and I are with Dad?”
Libbie looked into her daughter’s anxious eyes and saw her younger self reflected there. “It absolutely can. Let me just text the others and let them know.” There was no way Libbie could go now. Even though the kids weren’t huge fans of Chris, it was still another change for them to navigate, and Libbie wanted to be supportive of her daughter’s needs.
She sent a quick group text and explained the situation. They were understanding, of course, and agreed to reschedule for Wednesday night, which was Nick’s next turn for an overnight. Libbie knew that Inga would understand. She’d always supported Libbie’s desire to prioritize her children.
Courtney engulfed her mother in a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”
“It’s no problem.” Libbie relished the smooth skin of her daughter’s cheek pressed against hers.
“Can I go out?” Josh asked. “Hadley’s having some friends over and she invited me.”
“Do you need a ride?” Libbie offered.
“No, I’m good.”
Courtney waited until he left the room, and a sly smile emerged. “Can we go for ice cream?”
Libbie hugged her daughter again. “Of course we can.”
Chapter Eleven
Libbie devoted the first couple hours of her Sunday morning to grocery shopping, choosing items from her “normal” list as well as her catering list. She wanted to experiment with more recipes now that she had the time. She didn’t have the money to go nuts, but she knew how to stretch a dollar thanks to years of a tight budget.
Libbie’s phone vibrated, and her stomach churned when she saw the image of her mother’s face on the screen. Normally she’d let it go to voicemail, but Libbie was in the mood to rip off the Band-Aid. She stopped in the produce section, next to an end cap of lemons. It seemed appropriate, given the sour taste in her mouth.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Where are you? You sound like you’re in a nightclub.”
Yes, because I so often spend my Sunday morning in a nightclub. “I’m food shopping.”
“Have you found a job yet?”
“I’m not looking for a job, Mom. I’m starting my own business.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. You don’t know the first thing about running your own business. And what about your children?”
“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.” The words tumbled out before Libbie could stop them, although she wasn’t sure that she would have anyway.
Her mother fell silent for a moment, probably unsure how to respond. It wasn’t often that Libbie clapped back. She typically put up with whatever behavior her parents dumped on her, as though in agreement with the idea that Libbie somehow deserved it.
“The reason I’m calling is that we’ve decided to have a barbecue Thursday night. Since you’re already in the store, you might as well pick up a few things so you can make the side dishes. I’m thinking a seven-bean salad would be nice. I’m tired of potato salad. And maybe vegetables for the skewers.”
Nobody in the history of barbecues was ever excited to see a seven-bean salad. “I can’t make it Thursday,” Libbie said. “I have a catering job.”
“It’s just another barbecue, Elizabeth. You’re hardly auditioning for Top Chef. Let them find someone else to grill their burgers.”
Libbie bristled. “It isn’t just another barbecue, and I don’t want them to find someone else. This is a great opportunity for me.” She picked up a bag of lemons and placed them in the cart. A gin and tonic suddenly seemed like a very good idea. “Is there a reason yours has to be Thursday?” It wasn’t a birthday celebration; she knew that much.
“Your sister is busy the other nights this week. That was her only availability.”
Naturally, they’d checked Emily’s schedule first and gone ahead with the date, leaving Libbie to fit in—or not. “Well, I’m sorry. Thursday doesn’t work for me.”
Her mother blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to go ahead without you. Honestly, Elizabeth, you’d think you’d want to prioritize your family now that Chris has left you.”
Libbie resisted the urge to squeeze a lemon so hard that the seeds popped out. “Did it ever occur to you to plan the barbecue so I can come, even if Emily can’t?”
Silence greeted her suggestion.
“Didn’t think so.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I called to invite you, haven’t I? It’s not my fault you have plans.”
“I don’t have plans, Mom. I’m not choosing a tennis lesson over a family get-together. I have to work so that I can pay my bills.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you quit your job or alienated another man.”
Libbie closed her eyes, gathering her strength. “I need to go. It’s my turn in the checkout line. I hope you all have a great time.” She hung up before her mother could say another word.
Still agitated, she pushed her cart forward and broadsided another cart. “I’m so sorry!” Her eyes widened as she recognized the man behind the other cart. “Ethan. I almost didn’t recognize you.” Instead of a suit, he wore board shorts and a light gray T-shirt, allowing Libbie a good look at his toned arms.
Ethan broke into a wide smile at the sight of her. “This is a nice surprise.” He inclined his head to the cart. “I’ll have my insurance company call yours to discuss the damage.”
She laughed. “I’m so sorry. I was talking to my mother.”
“Ah. Say no more. How are you otherwise?”
“Good, actually. I got my first catering job.” She was surprised to hear herself offer the information so freely. A few weeks ago, it was the kind of statement she would’ve kept to herself because it sounded too boastful.
“Congratulations. That’s great news.” His gaze was direct and interested. In fact, if Libbie wasn’t mistaken, he seemed very interested.
Libbie felt the back of her neck grow warm. “We met with Lorraine. She was...informative. Thank you.”
Ethan chuckled. “She’s a character, isn’t she? I probably should’ve warned you.”
Libbie’s smile melted away as she remembered what Lorraine had said about the real reason for Ethan’s inquiry.
He seemed to notice her change in expression. “Is something wrong? She didn’t tell you anything awful, I hope.”
“No, nothing like that.” She thought of the second cocktail recipe that had appeared in the book.
“Well, you look like something’s on your mind.” His encouraging smile remained intact, and Libbie noticed the slightest hint of a dimple in his right cheek.
Libbie glanced around to make sure no other shoppers were within earshot. “Do I need to register as a witch?”
Ethan nodded. “Actually, I should have mentioned that during our meeting. I can help you with the papers if you’d like, but I understand if you’d rather find someone else.”
“Why would I want to find someone else?” she asked, a little too quickly.
“Because I’m not as well-versed as some other lawyers might be. It’s not exactly something they teach in law school.”
“Maybe not, but you won’t get more experience without more witches as clients.”
“No, I guess not.” The intensity of his gaze made her whole body tingle. “Are you busy after this? Any interest in grabbing a snack at the lake instead of waiting to meet tomorrow night?”
Libbie’s head jerked to attention. He sounded as eager as she felt. Then again, he probably was anxious to get the details squared away for his client party.
“I need to bring the groceries home,” she said. “I can’t leave them in the car in this heat.”
He seemed mildly embarrassed. “No, of course not. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“But I can unload my bags and meet you, if that’s not too late.” The prospect of sitting lakeside in his company was too tempting to pass up.
“No, that works for me. I don’t need
a lot. I tend to come here every few days.”
“Me, too. I like to buy everything fresh.”
“I guess that makes sense for a chef. How about Sandbar? I can text you when I get there.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you then.”
Libbie waited until she’d pushed her cart away to allow herself a huge smile. Even if it was only a client meeting, she had to admit she was excited to spend time alone with him. She also liked that she’d be able to talk openly with him about recent events. He was a smart guy; maybe he could offer insight into what was happening.
Even if he didn’t, Libbie couldn’t wait to see him again.
Sandbar had a cozier feel than a place like Pebbles, and Libbie was relieved that he’d suggested it. They sat across from each other at a small round table on the raised patio that overlooked the lake. An oversized yellow umbrella protected them from the harsh rays of the sun. The humidity was low, so they weren’t bothered by the bugs that sometimes plagued the residents in the dog days of summer.
“This is perfect weather,” Ethan said. “I try to spend as much time outdoors as possible when it’s like this. I actually resented going food shopping.”
“Why not wait until later today?”
“I have a work event.”
“On a Sunday evening?” That seemed a lot to ask.
“One of my clients is celebrating his ninetieth birthday.” Ethan grinned. “I tend to get invited to a lot of things. Some of my clients consider me an extension of the family, especially someone like Abe. He’s a great guy. Such a fascinating life.”
Libbie could understand why someone as easygoing and pleasant as Ethan was so in demand among his clients.
The server arrived and set their drinks in front of them, as well as a plate of fried crab legs to share.
“Thanks, Ashley.” Libbie recognized the server from Josh’s class.
Magic Uncorked: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Midlife Magic Cocktail Club Book 1) Page 11