In Over Her Head (Anchor Island #5) - Terri Osburn Page 0,3
a birthday cake onto Nota’s kitchen table. He made the same claim every year, but this time he meant it. This was the last birthday he felt like celebrating. An apropos thought considering this could also be his last birthday ever.
“And we ignored you,” Mia replied, “like we always do.”
His sister had an annoying habit of ignoring pretty much everything he said. From his birthday to her coming clean with their grandmother.
“Get the candles from the drawer,” Nota ordered. Though his grandmother had claimed she felt fine, her arthritis must have been acting up. She’d plopped into a chair the moment they’d entered the house when normally she’d shoo them out of her kitchen and insist on doing everything herself.
“I don’t need candles,” Nick said.
“Everyone needs candles,” Nota informed him. “When are you going to stop giving us a hard time about your birthday?”
When he stopped having them, Nick thought, but kept the morbid statement to himself.
Mia stuck pink, yellow, blue, and purple candles along the perimeter of the cake and then used a match to light them. “You’re going to have another fifty of these things,” she said.
He would be lucky to have another four. Nick turned thirty-six this year. His father died at thirty-seven. His grandfather at thirty-nine. His great-grandfather had been killed in World War II at the age of twenty-six, but probably wouldn’t have seen forty even if he’d survived. Stamatis men simply did not live to old age. Or middle age, for that matter.
“You two need to face reality,” he argued.
His sister blew out the match. “And you need to think positively.”
Right. Because that would help him cheat death.
“Start the song, Mia,” Nota said, and the pair sang the traditional tune in perfect harmony. When the song ended, they both said, “Make a wish!”
The only thing Nick wished was that the women in his life would stop pretending, but to make them happy, he closed his eyes and did the pretending for them. Seconds later, he opened his eyes and blew out the candles.
Mia passed him the knife and three paper plates. “Do you really like the mural, Grandma?”
Nick had stopped calling Nota grandma years ago, but Mia never lost the habit. He meant no disrespect. She was simply Nota to him. Other than Mia, his paternal grandmother was the most important woman in his life.
His mother had remarried right after Nick graduated high school, and he loved her as any son should, but she’d severed her connection with Dad’s side of the family after the second marriage, and then moved to Florida without even discussing the idea with her kids.
“I do,” Nota replied. “You brought our beloved island to life on that wall. Everyone is going to love it.”
“I hope so.”
Once the cake was cut and the pieces distributed, Mia added a scoop of ice cream to each, then they ate in silence until Mia exclaimed, “Your present!” Rising from the table, she rushed off toward the bedrooms down the hall.
“That new chef is beautiful, isn’t she?” Nota commented.
She was. She was also a hard-ass with a chip on her shoulder. Nick knew the type well. A chef with a superiority complex while also being scared shitless. He’d bet his best blades this was her first time running a kitchen. The inexperience was written all over her face. Being able to cook didn’t mean a damn thing when it came to managing people. A fact he’d learned long ago.
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“What?” she mumbled, attempting to look innocent and failing miserably. “I’m just making an observation.”
“Like the observation that she and I would make a good match?” Nick had vowed years ago to never date a fellow chef. They were all control freaks with horrible hours, and by nature too damned competitive. He included himself in that summation.
The older woman grinned. “Am I wrong?”
“You are.” Other than her profession, Nick knew little about Lauren Riley, but his answer would be the same no matter the woman in question. He never took any relationship beyond casual dating, and what Nota had in mind went well beyond casual.
“Happy birthday,” Mia said, returning to the table and setting a photo album down before him.
“What’s this?”
She returned to her seat. “Your present.”
“Presents are usually wrapped,” he pointed out, teasing as he loved to do.
“Consider my drawings wrapping paper,” she said before sticking her tongue out at him.
“There are many memories in there,” Nota murmured, her eyes focused on the album.
Nick sobered and ran a fingertip over the hand-drawn