When Alec Met Evie (Appies, #6)

by Jenny Proctor

“Have you heard from Alec?” “I sent him a message and told him where I am,” I say, “but he hasn’t responded yet.” I almost told Alec not to come—it’s not like we can move anything into the house—but the moving pod that was delivered just over a week ago is supposed to be picked up tomorrow, and I’d rather not pay to keep it for another month. Especially if my already stretched bank account is going to pay for a hotel. So my hope is that instead of moving everything inside, we can move it all into the garage. “I’m sure he’ll find you,” Ruth says. “Now, eat. I promise it’s delicious.” Forty-five minutes later, Juno is fed and down for a nap in the portable crib I retrieved from my car, my belly is full of the best chicken pot pie I’ve ever had, and Ruth is entertaining me with stories about her children, a daughter and a son who are, respectively, studying medicine at Harvard and serving as an officer in the Marine Corps. “Your kids sound amazing,” I say. She stands and moves into the small kitchen just off the living room, dishes clinking together as she says, “They’ve made their mamma proud.” When she returns, she hands me a second plate, this one holding some sort of apple dessert. “It’s a crumble,” she says. “And you might like it more than the pot pie.” “Hard to imagine how.” I take the plate and scoop up a generous bite. “Oh man, Ruth. This is unbelievable.” She beams, and I get the sense it really does bring her joy to feed people. Which, I’m just saying, there are wo...