There were two big bowls, one full of lavender and one full of dandelion greens, on the stainless-steel island. Loaves of bread sat steaming on the counters. Bay stood on a chair by Claire at the far counter, and she was using a wood-handled artist’s brush to carefully paint pansy flowers with egg whites. One by one, Claire then took the flower heads and delicately dipped them in extrafine sugar before setting them on a cookie sheet.

“How did you manage this in just a couple of hours?” Sydney said incredulously, and Claire and Bay both turned.

“Hi,” Claire said, looking at her warily. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. I just needed a little nap.”

Bay jumped down from her chair and ran to Sydney and hugged her. She was wearing a blue apron that dragged on the ground and had Waverley’s Catering written on it in white. “I’m helping Claire crystallize pansies to put on top of custard cups. Come look.” She ran back to her chair by the counter.

“Maybe later, honey. Let’s go get our things from the car and let Claire do her work.”

“Bay and I brought everything in yesterday,” Claire said.

Sydney looked at her watch again. “What’re you talking about? I was only asleep two hours.”

“You arrived yesterday morning. You’ve been asleep for the past twenty-six hours.”

Sydney’s heart lodged in her throat, and she stumbled to the kitchen table and sat. She’d left her daughter alone for twenty-six hours? Did Bay say anything to Claire about David? Did Claire care for Bay? Did she tuck her in, or had Bay been huddled, afraid and lonely, in her room all night in a strange house? “Bay…”

“Has been helping me,” Claire said. “She doesn’t say much, but she’s a fast learner. We cooked all day yesterday, she had a bubble bath last night, then I put her to bed. We started cooking again this morning.”

Did Claire think she was a bad mother? The one thing Sydney could be proud of, and she was already messing it up. This place messed her up. She was never sure of who she was here.

“Have some coffee,” Claire said. “Evanelle said she was stopping by today to see you.”

“Stay, Mommy. Watch what I can do.”

Get yourself together, she told herself. “Okay, honey. I’m not going anywhere.” She went to the coffeepot and poured a cup. “How is Evanelle?”

“She’s fine. She’s anxious to see you. Have some lavender bread. Bay and I have been eating on that last loaf there. There’s some herb butter too.”

Was Claire concerned about her? She’d thought a lot about Claire over the years. Mostly they were thoughts of how adventurous Sydney was being and how poor, pitiful Claire could do nothing but stay at home in stupid Bascom. It was cruel, but it made her feel better because she’d always been jealous of Claire’s comfort with who she was. Claire had been so happy to see her leave. Now she was worried about her. Telling her to eat. Sydney tried to slice the bread slowly, but she was so hungry she ended up tearing most of it off. She spread some herb butter on the bread and closed her eyes. After her third slice, she started walking around the big kitchen. “This is impressive. I didn’t know you could do this. Are these Grandma’s recipes?”