Her father grunted—his way of agreeing sometimes.
Sorting through everything, she realized there were a bunch of smaller frozen options, but nothing that would feed ten—maybe as many as sixteen. She shook her head, hit redial, and told Kate, “I’ll have to go to the store. Not enough of any one thing in here to feed this crowd.”
“I thought that might be the case,” Kate said. “It’s usually just your dad and Mary on weekends.”
“Really?” Grace was surprised because she hadn’t seen Mary yet.
As if Kate could read Grace’s mind, she added, “Mary doesn’t close up Murphy’s Market until just before dinnertime on Saturdays.”
“Ah.” Grace should have figured that her father had some sort of life now that he had an empty house most of the time. That thought led to another one: Did he spend more time at home or at Mary’s? She’d have to ask one of her sisters.
“Meatballs and spaghetti would easily feed a crowd, especially if you make your meatballs a little smaller than my mom does.”
Grace considered the idea and realized it was the perfect solution. “Kids usually like spaghetti. I think the guys would like it too, but I just found out that they’re playing soccer tomorrow too, so I’ll need to feed more than I’d planned on.”
“I’d go with meatball sandwiches then,” Kate suggested. “If you make the meatballs a little smaller, you can stretch a single batch to feed ten. A double batch will easily feed twenty. Hey,” Kate asked, “what about dessert?”
Grace groaned. What had her father gotten her into? “Darn, I didn’t even think about feeding them dessert. Dinner’s going to be enough of a challenge feeding so many.”
Kate laughed. “Easy or hard?”
“Jeez, Kate, it’s not like it’s thirty years ago and I’m trying to snag a man with my cooking!”
That had them both chuckling. “Why not go super easy and pick up two boxes of brownie mix?”
“But that’s not homemade.” After she’d said it, Grace wondered if it mattered.
“You could always ask me nicely and I can save two pies for you.”
“Wow, I didn’t even think about asking you for a pie…you’re offering me two? What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing,” Kate said far too quickly for Grace’s peace of mind.
“Hmmm. I’m not sure what his favorite—”
“Whose, your dad’s or Patrick’s?”
“Smart-ass,” Grace said. “Since you know so much, what is Patrick’s favorite type of pie?”
“He’ll eat any kind of pie, but I think he’s partial to apple.”
“Would you please bake two for me and I’ll owe you?” When Kate agreed, Grace asked for a second time, “Now what happened last night?”
Her friend didn’t answer.
“Kate?” Grace urged.
“Nothing,” Kate insisted.
“Something happened last night, didn’t it?”
Kate’s sigh was just audible enough for Grace to catch. “If you don’t want me coming over there right now, you’d better fill me in.”
Kate sighed louder. “He just wasn’t quite what I expected.”
“Meaning?” Grace hoped her friend wasn’t hiding something important, like she had with her last loser boyfriend—the one who knocked Kate around when he started drinking.
Her friend’s refusal to talk about it convinced Grace something bad happened. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“If there was something really wrong? Maybe.”
“Define really,” Grace said.
“Drop it, or I won’t text you my mom’s meatball and sauce recipe.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Thanks,” Grace grumbled.
“Bite me,” Kate said, making Grace smile.
“I love you even when you’re crabby, Katie.”
“Yeah, yeah,” her friend said. “Same goes.”
Grace disconnected and walked outside.
“Everything OK?” Patrick’s deeply rumbled question eased the stiff set of her shoulders.
She was worried about Kate. She hadn’t been in town the last time Kate had ended up in a bad situation with the wrong man. But how much should she tell the man who’d just entered her life?
“We’ll be having meatball sub sandwiches tomorrow—just in case we need to feed a couple of hungry firefighters.”
He nodded but hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. “Something has you worried.”
How could he tell? “What makes you say that?”
“It’s there in your eyes.” He reached out a hand toward her; she waited a beat before taking it.
“Sometimes it’s better to get stuff that’s worrying you off your chest.”
“And then again,” Grace said, “some things are better kept to yourself.”
“I know everything is happening at warp speed between us, but I’m a good listener and ace problem solver, being second oldest in the New York Garahan clan.”
She shrugged. What could she say? Where did she start so he wouldn’t think she was worrying unnecessarily just because she had a bad feeling?
The warmth of his hand eased another kink of tension inside of her. Maybe she should share her burden. “You might think I’m overreacting.”
He tilted his head to one side. “I have three younger sisters.”
What kind of a response is that? Her head started to ache with all of the thoughts and questions swirling around inside of it. She finally blurted out, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I told you.” He tugged on her hand to get her to stop. “I’ve had lots of practice listening without passing judgment—I always left the judging to my older brother, Tommy. He can be a real pain in the ass, but there’s no one I’d rather have at my back—well, except for my younger brothers, Mike and John.”
“And you never laughed at your sister’s worries?”
He laughed. “And run the risk of getting clipped in the jaw?”
“Did they really punch you?”
“A couple of times, until I caught on that they really did want a sounding board, especially after our dad died.” Patrick looked off into the distance, seeing something far beyond the field.
“It’s just a bad feeling I have,” Grace confessed.
“In your gut, can’t explain why you have it?” Pat asked.
He did understand. “Yeah.”
“Worst kind and usually a portent of doom if the Garahan sisters are involved. What’s up? Who’s in trouble?”
“I’m not sure if she’s exactly in trouble—yet—but I think she might be headed that way.”
“Since both of your sisters are married to great guys, whom I’m happy to call friends of mine, it must be a friend. Am I right?”
She nodded. “She’ll kill me if I say anything, but then again, if she’s mad at me for the rest of her life, but safe, I’d be OK with that.”
Patrick frowned down at her. “Spill it, Mulcahy.”
“It’s just a feeling, remember?” When his frown intensified, she grumbled, “There’s nothing really to spill, but, well, she’s been using an online dating service.”
“Didn’t she check the guy out ahead of time?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say much about the last guy, but apparently he liked to push her around.”
“OK. Doesn’t she have family in town? Friends who still live here who would kick her butt for not calling on one of them as backup for their first meeting?”
She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. “Like Meg and Dan did for Honey B. that first time she met you?”
He nodded. “I liked Honey B. a lot but could tell her mind was on someone else. But I made a bunch of friends from that one dinner, and I felt a whole lot better knowing Honey B. had friends who cared enough to be her backup.”
“You really are one of a kind, Patrick Garahan.” Grace traced circles on the back of his hand while she thought about how to approach
the subject with Kate. “She doesn’t want to talk about it, but I know the first date didn’t go according to plan. She went out with him for the first time last night.”
“And you’re worried?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” He tugged her toward his truck.
“Where?”
“Don’t know. You tell me and I’ll drive there. If you’re that worried about your friend, you’ll have to trust me to help. I never ignore bad feelings, Grace.”
“Let me tell my dad we’re leaving.” She ran over to her father and told him she and Pat were going for a ride to pick up the groceries for their Sunday dinner.
She hopped up into Patrick’s truck, and he closed her door and got in the driver’s side. Putting it in reverse, he let out the clutch and backed out to the street. “Where to?”
“The diner.”
“Is it Kate or Peggy?”
She should have realized he’d know both sisters. “Kate.”
“Good because I think Peggy is seeing one of the guys from my firehouse, and I’d hate to have to beat the crap out of a fellow firefighter.”
Grace could picture Patrick punching some equally large guy’s lights out. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
He kept his eyes on the road and answered, “You betcha. Women may think they are just as strong as a guy, but unless they’re bodybuilders or weight lifters, chances are pretty slim—different muscle mass.” He glanced at her and grinned. “By the way, I’m loving the way yours is put together.”
She punched him halfheartedly and told him to keep driving. As they turned onto Main Street, she wondered how she’d get Kate to tell her the details.
As if he’d been thinking along similar lines, Pat said, “Let’s just get her talking.”
“She’s giving me her mom’s Italian meatball and sauce recipe and two apple pies.”
Patrick whistled. “I really like your friends.” He paused then said, “We can tell her I wanted to thank her in person for the apple pie.”
“OK.” Grace crossed her fingers as he parallel parked his pickup in front of the diner. “But if she starts to get pissy, you may want to wait outside.”
He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’m here as backup; use me.”
Just when she thought she had the man figured out, he managed to surprise her. “I’ll let you start talking, since I like the pie idea.”
“Got it.” Patrick opened the door for Grace and waited for her to go first.
A gentleman. Her mom would have liked that.
“Hey, Grace, Patrick,” Peggy called out as they walked inside. “It’s great to see you two.”
Grace noticed the conspiratorial smile on Peggy’s face and wondered what kind of gossip she had just spread; it usually put a smile on the older McCormack sister’s face. As Peggy continued to smile at the two of them, Grace wondered if the look on Kate’s sister’s face had anything to do with the intrigue going on at her house. Everybody there seemed to be pushing her into Pat Garahan’s arms—not that she didn’t want to be there. It was an exciting place to be. And she knew it would only become more so. But still…
“Hey, Peggy,” she finally said. “Is Kate in the back?”
“Yeah, go on around while I keep your boyfriend company.”
“I’ll wait out here for you and Kate.”
Kate should have heard his voice by now. Sure enough, her friend pushed the door to the kitchen open and walked out.
Patrick grinned. “I owe you a debt of thanks.”
She smiled at him. “Ah, you heard about the pies for tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’m real partial to apple.”
“I told Grace you were. I’ve just finished the crust and was about to fill the pies. You can come on back if you can keep from snitching while I’m baking.”
Grace was surprised at how easily Patrick put her friend at ease. Normally, Kate would never invite anyone in the back—well, except for Grace, but she was practically an adopted sister in the McCormack household.
“Don’t touch anything unless I say you can,” Kate said without turning around. “Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Pat said.
When Kate turned around with her hands on her hips, Grace was braced for her friend to lose her temper—Kate hated to be called ma’am—but she didn’t. She just shook her head at Pat and said, “You’re lucky I like you.”
They walked over to one of the long counters in the back where Kate had been rolling out crust and mixing the filling. “Here.” She broke off a piece of uncooked crust and handed it to Pat.
He chewed and groaned. “Amazing. It’s as good as my mom’s.”
Kate harrumphed. “Probably better.”
Pat shook his head. “Now there’s where you’d be wrong, but I’d love to be the one to have one of my ma’s pies right beside one of yours so I could do a taste test.”
Kate grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time. We don’t mind putting our pies to the test. It’s our grandmother’s recipe.”
When she turned her back, Pat nodded at Grace. “You look tired, Kate,” Grace said. “What time are you closing up?”
“Gee thanks,” Kate grumbled. “You know we’re always open late on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“If you’re not closing until eleven o’clock, is Peggy driving you home?”
Kate put her hands on her hips and leveled a glare at Grace. “Why?”
“No reason,” Grace mumbled, looking at Pat, hoping he’d have a way to soften her friend up.
He was quick to say, “I’d be just as worried and give my sisters the third degree whenever I’m in Brooklyn.”
“Maybe I don’t like it,” Kate bit out, mixing the apples, sugar, flour, and spices until they were coated evenly.
Pat chuckled good-naturedly. “They don’t either, but it never stops me. When you care about your family and friends, you risk getting the sharp edge of a female’s tongue.”
That comment had Kate’s mouth hanging open.
Grace glared at Patrick. “What about your brothers?”
“They don’t snip at me; they toss punches.”
“And that’s so much better,” Kate said, dividing the apple mix between the two lined pie plates.
“Sometimes, the punches hurt less than words—words can leave marks that fester or bleed on the inside.”
Kate just shrugged and Grace knew for a fact that her friend’s date had either said something or done something that had Kate worried; she wasn’t normally this quiet.
“Have a nice time last night?”
Kate’s head shot up and her gaze locked with Grace’s. For a heartbeat they just stared at one another without speaking. Finally, Kate said, “We went out to Slater’s Mill for a couple of burgers.”
“Sounds like fun.”
Kate’s expression said it was anything but. When she lifted her arm to brush her bangs out of her eyes with her forearm, the sleeve of her blouse slipped down, revealing purple bruises on her wrist.
Patrick’s face showed no expression, but his eyes were dark and dangerous. He’d seen the bruises too.
Kate was concentrating on what she was doing and didn’t see the looks Grace and Pat exchanged.
“Is he someone from town?” Grace asked now that Kate was putting the tops on the pies.
“No. Is this why you stopped by?” she asked. “To give me the third degree about my date?”
Patrick shook his head. “It was to personally thank you in advance for the pies and the meatball recipe.”
Kate’s expression changed, and she seemed more at ease. “You’re welcome. And since you’re here, I’ll just make a copy of ma’s recipe for you, Grace.”
While she went to the back room where the tiny diner office was located, Pat turned to Grace. “Those were vicious bruises.”
Grace felt sick at heart, hurting for her friend. But now she was definitely going to make Kate talk. She knew she’d have to risk making her friend m
ad at her, but what choice did she have? “If you go out and talk to Peggy, I’ll ask Kate when she gets back.”
Pat pressed a kiss to her temple and walked out into the diner. Kate didn’t seem surprised that Grace was alone, waiting for her. “Here’s the recipe.”
“Thanks.” She paused, hoping that Kate would say something, but in the end her friend didn’t. “Kate, you know you are my best friend in the entire world, right?”
Kate sighed. “God, you always say that right before you do or say something to piss me off.”
Grace snorted. “I guess that makes me predictable.”
“Pretty much,” Kate said.
“I saw the bruises. He hurt you, Katie.”
To Grace’s shock, Kate’s eyes filled. “Yeah.”
Grace hesitated before asking, “Did he do more than bruise your wrist?”
Kate held up her other wrist so that Grace could see the identical bruising there. “Oh, sweetie.” Grace held out her arms and Kate walked into them. She sniffled but didn’t cry. Kate rarely did. “Want me to go beat the crap out of him?”
“He’d hurt you, Gracie.”
“Want me to ask Patrick to go beat the crap out of him?”
Kate leaned back and started to giggle. “Maybe.”
“Patrick!” Grace called out. A moment later, his broad-shouldered form stood in the doorway to the kitchen.
“You need me?” he asked, looking from one woman to the other and back.
“Kate might need you to beat someone up.”
He cracked his knuckles and grinned. “I’m your man.”
“Have you talked to Mitch yet? You should probably press charges.”
“And tell him what? That I was stupid enough to meet a guy I didn’t even know?”
“Pretty stupid not to even give Mitch a chance to do his job and question the guy or bring him in on assault charges.”
Kate’s gaze met hers and Grace knew her words had hit home. She waited a moment before asking, “What about Deputy Jones?”
Tears formed and fell, but Kate didn’t answer Grace’s question. She put her arm around Kate and told Patrick, “We’re going to the powder room. Be right back.”
“I’ll be waiting in the diner.”
“Thanks,” Grace said.
Welcome Back to Apple Grove Page 10
