Keith (Hathaway House #11) - Dale Mayer Page 0,7

if she ever came in to find it completely destroyed or something because this was her space. This was where she belonged. It was her home, and a home she wanted spick-and-span and in perfect order at all times.

Gerard was already in. She rolled her eyes at him. “What are you up to?”

“You gave me free license to make pasta,” he said with a big grin. “So, here I am, making pasta.”

As she surveyed the kitchen, he had several counters full of rectangles of dough already laid out to be cut. “You’re hand cutting it?”

He nodded. “After you put on coffee,” he said with an encouraging smile. “We’ve been waiting for you to come in.”

“And why would you do that?” she asked.

“Because you are about to turn on the espresso machine,” he said with a laugh. “We just made regular drip coffee, and we already drank it.”

“Well, I do like my espresso in the morning,” she said comfortably. “But I’ll put on a pot of drip too.” And that’s what she did.

By the time she walked over with a cup for Gerard and for herself, he already had most of the dough cut and was laying everything onto a mobile unit of strings and long poles to roll in the backroom to dry.

“They won’t dry very much if we use them today,” she warned him.

“I know,” he said. “They’ll dry just enough.”

She laughed and gave him a hand.

By the time all the noodles were hung, he looked remarkably proud of himself. She had to admit they looked lovely. “Maybe I’ll take a picture of that and post it on the website,” she said. “We’ll see how many people choose fresh pasta today.” Pulling out her phone, she took several shots, including some with Gerard beside his work. “Now, let’s get our coffee.” And then she remembered her promise. “Oh, but I have to deliver a cup first.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“One of the patients is awake,” she said. “I met him yesterday, and, when I walked past his room, I saw his light was on, so I called out a good morning and stopped for a minute.”

Gerard nodded. “Potato-soup dude?”

“Yeah, exactly. Potato-soup dude,” she said, laughing. “Good thing I sent it up. He ate 99 percent of it.”

“Wow,” Gerard said. “We should be doing more of that, shouldn’t we? You know? Checking out the patients ourselves to make sure they’re getting what they need from us.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Dani has all that taken care of, but I do think it would be a good idea every once in a while for us to spend some time visiting with the patients, to see just what they’d like to eat.”

“I think the last time we did that,” he said, “we had menu ideas for six months.”

“Considering that I struggled with the menu board just yesterday,” she said, “that’s not a bad idea.” She walked over and poured a cup of drip coffee, put it on a small tray with milk, sugar, and a spoon, just in case. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be here,” he said.

Tray in hand, she headed back down the hallway, wondering whether Keith would be sleeping by now or not. She walked to the doorway, finding it was still open, the light still on. She poked her head through and saw he was just lying there, his eyes barely closed. “I don’t want to wake you,” she said quietly, “but the coffee’s here.”

He smiled. “I’m not asleep, just resting. Boy, that coffee sure smells good.”

She walked in and set the tray on a small table, unloading the contents. “I didn’t know how you like your coffee, so I brought milk and sugar, just in case.”

“Normally nothing,” he said. “Definitely not sugar but sometimes a little cream, depending on how strong it is.”

She added a little milk and passed him the coffee cup. “I’m not sure if you’re up for pasta or not, but check this out.” She held up her phone to show him a picture. “One of my guys just finished making these.”

He looked at it in surprise. “Fresh noodles?”

She nodded.

“I’ll have pasta,” he said. “Lunch or dinner?”

“We might split it and do both,” she said with a frown. “Or we might leave half the noodles to dry and have them in a couple days.”

“Well, whatever you do, save me a little bit,” he said. “I can’t get much down, but I would really enjoy some fresh pasta.”

“Have you ever had it?” she