still ticked at Roman for leaving her in the lurch. One of her favorite scriptures kept running through her mind, Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. She was trying to trust but was falling miserably short. Maybe if she were a better, stronger person, she’d just turn her back on her inheritance—tell Eric Stanford and his team of attorneys to go jump in a lake. Okay, that was harsh. It wasn’t Eric’s fault that her late grandmother was a control freak. He was just doing his job. Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow. Magnolia looked at Lexi, realizing that she was still talking.
“Oh, and you’re gonna need a few cooking lessons.”
Magnolia wrinkled her nose. “Cooking lessons? I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Lexi chuckled.
When the timer buzzed, Magnolia slipped on an oven mitt and removed the cast iron skillet from the oven. The fragrant scent of cornbread wafted through her senses. The perfection of the golden crust evoked a curious sense of pride. Magnolia had never been great at cooking, but with Lexi’s help, she was improving. She’d actually enjoyed Lexi’s cooking lessons.
Mrs. Romeo brought her hands together. “That looks amazing!”
“Thank you,” Magnolia said with appreciation as she cast Lexi a surreptitious glance. Lexi winked. She’d taught Magnolia how to make cornbread. Magnolia had wanted to learn how to make biscuits, but Lexi explained it would take much more than a few cooking lessons to teach her the technique, so they’d opted for cornbread instead.
“Lucas will be so surprised and excited that you’re joining us for dinner,” Mrs. Romeo said. “You’ve been working nonstop since you got here.” She scooted out a kitchen chair. “Here, sit down and rest.”
The kitchen exuded such a cheerful warmth that it tugged at Magnolia’s heartstrings. She was enjoying the easy chatter passing between Lexi and her mom. The two of them were obviously close. There was a time when Magnolia was close to her mom, Janet, but things had gotten tense between them ever since Magnolia’s mom remarried several years ago. Magnolia didn’t like the awkwardness that having Dave in the family created. Her mom had always been so independent, but now it was like she couldn’t make a move without Dave’s permission. He stayed glued to her mom the entire time like an extra appendage, almost as if he were afraid that Magnolia might get to spend a minute alone with her mom. It was a strange situation. Magnolia could tell that Dave viewed her as competition for her mom’s affection.
Magnolia’s mom had invited her to spend Christmas in Florida, but there was no way Magnolia could do that, not with the impending wedding. Janet had invited Magnolia for Christmas the past several years in a row. Every year, Magnolia came up with a different excuse as to why she couldn’t go. At least this year her excuse was valid. Magnolia hadn’t told her mother about the conditions of the trust fund. Her mom would freak out if she knew that Magnolia had to get married to claim her inheritance. There was no love-loss between Janet and the Bentleys.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to since you left Franklin,” Mrs. Romeo prompted. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you. You’re all grown up now.”
“It has been a long time,” Magnolia agreed.
Lexi pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.
“I’m the chief editor for an online clothing and lifestyle magazine,” Magnolia began.
“It’s one of the top magazines in the country,” Lexi chimed with a touch of pride. Magnolia loved that about Lexi—how she was genuinely gracious and happy for Magnolia’s success. So many of Magnolia’s other so-called friends were insanely jealous of one another. They were okay with their counterparts being successful, so long as they remained the top dog.
Mrs. Romeo seemed impressed. “Wow!”
“Mrs. Romeo, you teach English at the high school, is that right?”
“Yes.” She offered a warm smile. “Please, call me Layla.”
Magnolia nodded. “Layla, you have a beautiful home.” She’d never paid much attention to the décor when she was a kid, but now that she was seeing it through the eyes of an adult, she appreciated the artful details that transformed the house into a home. It was the little things that made the difference—the tomatoes ripening on the windowsill, the colorful bowl of fruit on the island, the copper container of wooden kitchen utensils, the baskets craftily arranged on top of the upper cupboards.
There was a festive