Page 27 of Harbor Lights

Warmth spread through Con at Shiv’s appreciation of her hobby. She liked that, despite being so different, they had common ground.

“Come on, let’s see the rest of the house,” Con said, to redirect her thoughts.

She led Shiv through the rest of the ground floor, pointing out jobs, while Shiv made suggestions about how she could tackle them, and took notes on a pad.

When they’d finished on a long list of kitchen repairs, Shiv closed her book. “I’ll draw you up a list of prices and you can prioritize what you want me to do first. Does that sound okay?” She tucked her pen in the top pocket of her shirt. “And now I’m gonna get that front door sanded down and painted.”

“Thanks. I have a few evening patients, then I’ll be done about seven. Will you let me cook you dinner afterwards?”

Shiv blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.”

When she turned away to her equipment and started to prepare for the work, Con left her to it. She went to her consult room to prepare for her next patient. Maura had gone home hours ago, so she’d need to make sure she had the right notes up on her screen.

The appointments went quickly, and Con acknowledged the frisson of anticipation at spending the evening with Shiv. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way. It would’ve been with Majella back in the early days. More than thirty years ago. How had she robbed herself of this feeling for so long? The spark of potential that could lead to paradise.

What the hell am I thinking?Shiv was a patient, and someone she was paying to be here. Not to mention their age difference. There was no way Shiv was looking forward to eating together like she was. In fact, she’d paused long enough to make Con think she only accepted the offer out of politeness. But a convenient hot meal instead of trying to cook in a half-renovated cabin was more likely her motivation.

She’d better prepare something quickly. She opened the refrigerator door and stared at the array of vegetables. After Shiv’s previous comment, she’d gone overboard on stocking up, but the truth was she barely knew what to do with any of it. She’d been able to blame Majella’s passion for cooking for so many years, but what about the last decade? It was ridiculous to be fifty-six and not know how to cook a meal. Trying not to panic, she checked the time. She had barely an hour until Shiv needed to be on the last ferry. Why hadn’t she thought it through? She could’ve thrown a bunch of ingredients into the slow cooker, or better still, asked Maura for help.

Think, think. Omelet!She breathed a sigh of relief. It ticked all the boxes: quick, vegetarian, nutritious, and even she shouldn’t be able to mess it up. She pulled out the tray of eggs and every vegetable she thought she could get away with adding and got to work chopping and whisking.

“Front door’s done.”

Con narrowly avoided chopping off her own thumb as she looked up with a start.

“Sorry, I should’ve knocked.” Shiv stood, thumbs tucked in her waistband, her signature white tank top smeared with a little purple paint, and Con’s heart skipped. To distract herself, she wondered if Shiv had a number of these shirts or if she was just really good at getting out stains.

“Of course not.” She regained the use of language. “I hadn’t realized how immersive prepping veg can be.”

“I hope you’ve not gone to too much trouble. I’m a pretty simple eater.”

“And I’m a pretty simple chef, so it should work out just fine.” She indicated the oak table that took up half the kitchen. A ridiculous piece of furniture for someone who almost always dined alone. “Sit down and relax.”

Shiv grabbed her backpack from the corner. “Would you mind if I connected to your WiFi for a few minutes, please? I’ve been relying on my phone signal to keep up to speed.”

Con wondered what she needed to keep up to speed with, but nodded. “Of course. Capital CS underscore lowercase surgery, no password.” At least Shiv would be distracted while she tried to make their meal.

She added the onions, garlic, and mushrooms to the hot pan to soften, then retrieved a loaf and the butter dish from the pantry. She set them down in front of Shiv and added plates and cutlery. “Help yourself while you’re waiting. It’s fresh today.”

The ingredients had stuck slightly by the time she returned, and she scraped at them in what she hoped was a professional-looking manner. She added tomatoes and spinach and then stirred in the egg on top. The pan was more crowded than she’d planned for, and the eggs floated on top of the vegetables. She rearranged ingredients until she was confident the egg had started to set. Then she scooped everything with the spatula and tried to turn it. The omelet fell apart, uncooked egg mixing with vegetables in an unappetizing mess.

“Fuck it.” She threw the spatula across the hob and squeezed the bridge of her nose. All she’d wanted was to make Shiv a nutritious, hot meal, and she’d screwed it up.

Gentle hands held her shoulders and guided her aside.

“Hey, it’s fine. Scrambled eggs is good too, right?” Shiv retrieved the spatula and began tossing the clumps of food. “Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of something and relax a little? I’ve got this.”

That somehow made it worse. Shiv shouldn’t have needed to rescue her from such a simple task. Con distracted herself from the urge to cry by pulling a cold bottle of white from the refrigerator. She took two glasses from the shelf.

“Not for me, thanks. I’ll stick with water.” Shiv looked over her shoulder from where she stood at the hob.

“Don’t you like white? I can open a red?”

“I don’t really drink. You go ahead.”

Con replaced the wine in the refrigerator and filled a water jug. “Water’s a good idea. I’ll save myself for a whiskey later.”

Shiv approached with two plates. “Here we are. Dinner saved.” She sat and placed a plate before Con.

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