Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)(35)

“No sweet tooth?” Tom heard his grandmother ask as he took the stairs to the basement.

“Not too much. It seems I’m always watching my weight.”

“Pity. I guess Tom will take care of yours.”

When he came back upstairs, he noticed that Darla was wearing a different pair of boots for dinner—brown suede flat boots that went over her jeans, jeans that were delightfully tight. She wore a long-sleeved fuzzy sweater that had a fairly deep V-neck and it was red. Tom was beginning to understand what Nora meant when she said red was special. There was a lovely cle**age visible.

Maxie began putting one of her best meals on the table—a standing rib roast that Tom would have the honor of carving. Twice-baked potatoes, asparagus from her own garden, fresh rolls that had risen earlier and were warm and plump with sweet cream butter from a neighboring farmer. She added salt and pepper, glasses of ice water and a small bowl of horseradish, Tom’s preference.

“What a feast!” Darla said. And Maxie smiled proudly. When they were seated and Tom was cutting the meat Darla said, “A very small piece for me, please.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked. “You had a long drive.”

“I’m not a big eater of red meat. Not a vegetarian or anything—I just eat more fish than beef.”

“You’ll do fine in this part of the world,” he said, serving her up a small slice. “The Virgin River supplies some of the most amazing trout and salmon around here. What fish do you like?”

She was delicately cutting up her beef and asparagus into very small pieces. “Hmm, I think ahi tuna is my favorite. I’m partial to sushi. Do you like sushi?” she asked Tom.

“Sure,” he said. “Did a lot of that in San Diego.”

“Any good sushi bars around here?”

“On the coast, maybe…” he said. “I think this part of the state is more known for beef, wild game, hearty, meaty meals.”

“Wild game?” she asked, lifting a very tiny portion of meat to her mouth.

“Duck, pheasant, goose, venison, that sort of thing. Big hunting area. Lots of hunters pass this way.”

“Hunting? Ew.”

He leaned toward her. “Hunting is fishing on dry land.”

“I suppose,” she said, sampling the asparagus. “Maxie, this is fabulous. You said you grew this?”

“Yes, ma’am. I have a small vegetable garden, and it’s almost plucked clean by now, but the broccoli and asparagus come in late.”

Tom watched Darla take a little bitty bite of potatoes, then go back to the vegetable.

“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” Maxie asked.

“Well, boring as this sounds, I thought I’d take Darla for a walk through the orchard tonight, then tomorrow, if you can spare me, I’d like to take her through the redwoods and over to the coast. We could have dinner in Arcata, so you’re on your own, Maxie.”

“Wonderful. And what happens Sunday?”

“I have to be on the road by around noon,” Darla said. “My class begins Monday morning.”

“Here, sweetheart,” Maxie said, lifting the bread basket toward her.

“Oh, thank you, but no—bread is not really part of my diet. I can’t stay in these jeans if I eat bread. And butter is out of the question.” Then she put her fork on the table and leaned back, her plate still quite full. “Maxie, that was fabulous.”

“How do you know?” Maxie asked, looking at the plate.

Darla laughed. “I don’t have a big appetite. And I’m careful about things like starches, fats, red meat.”

“I’ll remember that,” Maxie said. “Can I fix you a PB and J to hold you over?”

“A what?”

“Peanut butter and jelly,” Tom supplied. And he unremorsefully kept shoveling food into his mouth, jealously eyeing Darla’s still-full plate.

Darla laughed as if it were a joke. “I’m fine, really.”

“What’s for breakfast?” Maxie asked.

Darla tilted her head, lifted a pretty blond brow and asked, “A little granola? Plain yogurt?”

“How do you feel about All-Bran?” Maxie asked.

Darla made a face.

“We’re going out for breakfast,” Tom announced. “I have eggs, potatoes, sausage, bacon and toast. I’ll be sure you have granola and yogurt.”

“Tom,” she said sincerely, “aren’t you worried about your cholesterol?”

He forked a big mouthful of potatoes, full of butter, cheese and sour cream into his mouth and after swallowing he said, “I lift a couple thousand pounds of apples a day. I dare my cholesterol to keep up with that.”

“I guess you have a point,” she said. “I work out every morning, but the rest of my day isn’t so physical. I’m in sales. I have a lot of meetings. Many of them in restaurants. If I ate everything that was put in front of me, I’d weigh two hundred pounds!”

“You look just lovely, dear,” Maxie said. “You’ll be fine. Now tell us about the sales job and who you sell your products to.”

And cleverly, Maxie turned the table over to Darla, who was not eating and could talk while Tom and Maxie finished their dinner. And it was interesting—her work with doctors and hospitals and drug trials that might actually cure diseases and conditions that to this point rarely were successfully cured. She traveled for three to four days every other week and enjoyed her travels. She had long-term clients who had become friends because they depended on her. And there were benefits—bonus gifts she could give to her clients, and to herself, like good seats at concerts and sporting events. There were greatly discounted resort destinations—the Caribbean, Hawaii, Mexico. She had the best vacations and bonuses in the world.