Eustace pushed out his lips. “I said I’ll think about it.”
“Keep thinking, and Mama will ask another man to take her away,” Nicole mumbled under her breath. “You know there’s a doctor at the hospital that’s been sparking at her for a while.”
“What the hell!” Eustace shouted. “Is this some conspiracy?”
“What’s up, Daddy?” Melinda asked as she approached the counter.
“These three,” he said accusingly, pointing a finger at Hannah, Tonya, and Nicole, “are badgering me to take your mother on vacation.”
Melinda threw a towel over her shoulder and rolled her head on her neck. “Make that four. We keep telling you that you’re working too hard, but you won’t listen until you’re flat on your back. Look, Daddy, we have Tonya working with us, so you don’t have an excuse not to take time off.”
Eustace bobbed his head. “I’ll talk to your mama and maybe we’ll go somewhere after Mardi Gras. Satisfied, Mrs. St. John McNair?”
Hannah’s smile was dazzling. “Quite.”
“Tonya, give Hannah whatever she wants and don’t take her money, because we never charge family. And that includes you.”
Tonya’s jaw dropped. “I’m not family.”
He glared at her. “As long as you work in my kitchen you are family.”
Nicole patted her father’s back. “Give it a rest, Daddy. I don’t think Tonya’s the least bit intimidated.”
Tonya wanted to tell Nicole she was right. She was long past being intimidated when working in a restaurant’s kitchen. An executive or head chef could scream at her until they lost their breath, yet she refused to take it personally. She knew who she was and what she could do and had enough confidence to know that if she decided to quit, she could get another position—even if it meant starting at the bottom. Fortunately, now she didn’t have to start at the bottom, not when she was about to become owner and executive chef of her own restaurants.
Nicole gave her father a direct stare. “Mama’s taking off Monday and we’re closed for Dr. King’s birthday, so why don’t you take her on a dinner cruise on the steamboat Natchez to show her how much you still love her.”
Eustace’s dimples deepened as he smiled. “I like that idea.”
Melinda narrowed her eyes. “Just make certain Mama doesn’t come back pregnant, or I’ll never appear in public again.”
“Lindy, I can’t believe you said that,” her twin chastised. Nicole shook her head. “Hannah and Tonya, please forgive my tactless sister.”
Eustace’s smile faded as he glared at Melinda. “FYI, young lady, your mama couldn’t have any more children after carrying you two knuckleheads. She spent most of her time in bed, and the last month of her pregnancy in the hospital, because her doctor feared she would lose her babies. Three weeks before her due date the doctors had to perform a cesarean to save you and your sister. Two days later she underwent a complete hysterectomy. So if you have jokes, then just keep them to yourself.”
Melinda’s eyes filled as she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t know.”
Eustace beckoned her and Nicole closer. “Come and give your gruff old dad a hug.”
Tonya watched as Melinda and Nicole hugged their father, feeling like a voyeur. It was apparent the Toussaints also had family secrets, just as she did. Rather than tell anyone that her brother was one of Harlem’s major drug suppliers, she felt it more plausible to say he’d died from an OD after injecting himself with a speedball of heroin and cocaine.
“Is there anything else you want?” she asked Hannah, who’d averted her gaze from the exchange of affection between her husband’s relatives.
“I’d like a baguette.”
Tonya slipped the bread into a paper sleeve. “Anything else?”
Hannah smiled. “I don’t think so. I have to watch what I eat or I’ll blow up like a balloon, and goodness knows that at my age the weight will settle in my belly and butt.”
Tonya shook her head. “Please, Hannah. You’re talking to the wrong person about belly and butt. Whenever I gain weight it’s always in the three B’s: belly, breasts, and behind.”
“Stop complaining, Tonya. You have the perfect body.”
Tonya wanted to tell Hannah that it took a lot of hard work to shed the weight that hung on to her like a good friend. However, she made certain not to obsess about her weight by counting calories, points, or even weighing and measuring her food. The reality was she felt better and now had more energy.
“What time do you want me to come over?”
“Any time you want. We can look at the video before or after we eat. The choice is yours.”
Tonya glanced at the wall clock. Melinda and Nicole always left at two, leaving her and Eustace to clean up. “I probably won’t leave here until four, and then I’m going home to shower and change into something that doesn’t smell like Creole seasoning. Look for me around six.”
“Six it is.” She waited for Nicole and Melinda to leave with Hannah, and then closed and locked the door behind them. Forty minutes later she slipped behind the wheel of her car and headed for the Garden District.
* * *
Tonya parked on the street in front the two-story brick Southern-style farmhouse where Hannah lived with her husband. Driving through the Lower French Quarter to Faubourg Marigny was like stepping back in time with streets lined with handsome Creole-style cottages. She found herself falling more in love with her adopted city with each passing day. She wasn’t certain whether it was the slower pace, warmer winter weather, the cornucopia of sights and sounds, along with the food, friendly people—or all of the above. She no longer felt like a tourist driving slowly along streets and avenues to find a particular neighborhood with the assistance of her vehicle’s navigational system.
The front door opened as she exited the Honda, and Hannah walked out onto the porch. The portico light fixture bathed her in a halo of gold.
This was her second visit to St. John’s home. The first was last July when she, her daughter, Nydia, and Jasmine drove down to visit with Hannah. St. John had been the designated host for his family’s reunion, and he invited Hannah’s guests to sleep over at his house rather than go back to the DuPont House. The reunion began with an early morning breakfast, and the celebrating continued with ubiquitous New Orleans dishes, music, and dancing. Tonya had volunteered to assist Eustace when they grilled together in the outdoor kitchen. While some homeowners had dismantled their outdoor kitchens, St. John and Hannah had elected to keep the structures. And Tonya could think of nothing better than cooking outdoors year-round.
Hannah extended her arms and hugged Tonya. “Did you have a problem finding this place?”
Tonya returned the hug. “No. I remembered certain landmarks when you drove us here last year.”
Wrapping an arm around Tonya’s waist, Hannah led her inside the house. “I can’t believe so much as happened since last year.”
“The most momentous being you getting married.”
“And don’t forget you moving down here to open a restaurant,” Hannah reminded Tonya. “And I’m praying that will happen before the end of the year. When I first moved back I found myself obsessing about converting the house into an inn before Mardi Gras, but now I realize that was totally unrealistic.”
Tonya followed Hannah into the kitchen, where she had set a table for two. She suspected Hannah did not want to eat alone while her husband was out of town. It was apparent her friend had quickly grown accustomed to sharing her life with another person. Tonya had been single so long that she was accustomed to living by herself.
She communicated with Samara several times a month, because she didn’t want her daughter to think she was monitoring her whereabouts or prying into her life. One time she didn’t contact her for two weeks and Samara called her in a panic, believing something had happened to her. Tonya relieved her daughter’s anxiety when she revealed a former co-worker had asked her to help him launch hi
s new restaurant in a newly gentrified Brooklyn neighborhood while she was still employed by Wakefield Hamilton. She had gone directly from the bank’s kitchen to his, and when she returned home close to midnight it was to collapse fully dressed across her bed. She woke at dawn, showered, and dressed to do it all over again until he found someone to replace her. His flagship restaurant had been so successful that two years later he opened a second one in Brooklyn Heights.
Hannah set a bowl filled with salad greens, chick peas, avocado, cherry tomatoes, thinly sliced Bermuda onion, Kalamata olives, capers, and marinated artichoke hearts on the table. “I know how much you like having salad with your dinner.”
“To tell you the truth, I could have salad for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Tonya confessed as she made her way to the bathroom off the kitchen to wash her hands.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror over the vanity. It was time for a haircut; she made a mental note to call Callie and make an appointment. Shorter hair complemented the shape of her face and her lifestyle, because she no longer had to search for hair bonnets large enough to fit over her then braided hair when cooking.
“Do you want wine, sweet tea, water, or lemonade?” Hannah asked when she returned to the kitchen.
“I’ll have water.”
“You really do eat healthy.”
“Not that much. I had wine last night.”
Hannah filled a pitcher with water from the dispenser on the refrigerator door. “What were you celebrating?”
“Actually, nothing. Gage came over to talk to me, and we ended up cooking and eating together.”
Hannah went still. “You and Gage Toussaint?”
Tonya met her startled gaze. “Yes. Why?”
Setting the pitcher on the table, Hannah pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “I . . . I don’t know. Somehow I can’t imagine you and Gage together.”
A shiver of annoyance snaked its way up Tonya’s spine as she glared at Hannah. “There’s nothing to imagine because there’s nothing going on between Gage and me.”
Hannah didn’t seem the least bit affected by her sharp tone when she smiled. “Not yet.”
Tonya frowned. “Why would you say something like that?”
“I don’t know Gage that well, but from what I’ve observed, he’s rather standoffish when it comes to women. I met him for the first time when St. John took me to Jazzes before you guys came down, and I’ve lost count of the number of women trying to get him to notice them.”
“Maybe it’s because he was involved with someone.”
Hannah made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “If Gage’s involved with anyone, then it’s with himself.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You’ll find out if you continue to see him,” Hannah warned.
“I suppose I will, because I’m having dinner with him on Sunday.”
Turning slowly, Hannah gave Tonya a long, penetrating stare. “You like him.” It was a statement.
Tonya narrowed her eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Hannah. Gage and I are chefs, and that translates into sharing a passion for cooking. I asked him for his feedback for the menu for your Super Bowl party, and he was quite helpful.”
“Oh, shit!”
“What are you shitting about?” Tonya asked.
“I don’t know why I forget he’s also a chef, because it’s stuck in my head that he’s a professional musician.”
“All that means is he’s multitalented.”
“That and drop-dead gorgeous,” Hannah added, smiling.
“I never noticed,” Tonya replied, deadpan.
“That’s BS and you know it. Let’s eat, then I’ll show you pictures from the wedding.”
“I can’t wait to see them. By the way, where’s Smokey?”
“He’s probably sleeping on St. John’s desk. We won’t allow him in the kitchen, and don’t you dare mention anything about him sleeping on the bed, because I’ll lose it.”
Tonya chuckled under her breath. Hannah confided to her that the only thing she and her husband disagreed about was having the cat sleep at the foot of their bed; she told her friend if that’s all they had to argue about, then not only was she lucky but blessed to have had a second chance at love.
Chapter 11
Tonya sat on the porch waiting for Gage to arrive. He had sent her a text to let her know he would pick her up around two-thirty. Just hearing his voice brought back images of them cooking, eating, and dancing together, while at the same time it reminded her just how long it had been, aside from Hannah’s wedding, since she had danced with a man. In fact, it had been almost a year since she had gone out on a date with Darius, because of his fluctuating work schedule.
She still couldn’t believe how much her life had changed in less than a week. She woke to the sound of birds instead of honking horns, sanitation trucks picking up garbage along her street, and an occasional slamming door and the voices of her fifth-floor neighbors.
The instant she’d closed the door to her apartment after a trio of men carried out the last box with her personal items to be shipped to DuPont House, Tonya had experienced an emotion bordering on anxiety. Doubt had crept in, making her question her decision to give up all she had in New York to move to start up a restaurant in a city known for its own unique cuisine.
Her anxiety was short-lived when, a week before Christmas, she picked up her new SUV and hugged Nydia while wishing her the best.
She drove south, stopping overnight in Charlotte, North Carolina, and then continued on to Daytona Beach, where she spent Christmas and celebrated the New Year with her parents. Samara called on both holidays, and although pleased to hear her daughter’s voice, Tonya had come to the realization that her adult daughter was exercising her independence for the first time. A sense of strength came to her during the drive from Daytona Beach to New Orleans as she remembered when she’d left the States to live abroad. She’d traveled without a companion and survived.
She was now a Louisianan, and not only would she survive living in a new state, but she was also confident she had made the right decision to go into business with Hannah.
A smile parted her lips as she recalled watching the video of Hannah and St. John’s first dance together as husband and wife. They were as graceful and fluid as professionals as they floated across the ballroom floor, much to the awe and shock of their guests.
It was as if Tonya had viewed the wedding, the cocktail hour, dinner, and reception through the eyes of the videographer, because he had captured expressions and nuances of everyone in the garden and ballroom. Her former apprehension that her gown revealed too much cleavage was belied when she stared at her image as Hannah’s maid of honor.
What she found blatantly obvious was Cameron Singleton’s entrancement with Jasmine when they danced together. Although Cameron was not a man whom she found attractive, she wasn’t ready to dismiss him as someone who could help Jasmine get over her ex-husband’s duplicity.
Jasmine had called her earlier that morning. Her voice was still raspy, but she wanted to let Tonya know she was feeling better and that Nydia was coming over to cook for her. Tonya did not know why, but she felt more like a mother rather than an older sister to Nydia and Jasmine—although she was old enough to be Nydia’s mother. When she had mentioned this to Hannah, Hannah explained it was because they both were mothers, and although their children were adults, their maternal instincts were always front and center.
Sitting there and waiting for Gage to come pick her up for their date, Tonya realized she liked him, although she felt they had not gotten off on the right foot during their first encounter, for which he had apologized. She had met so many men in her male-dominated field who would become combative rather than admit they were wrong.
Tonya stood up as she saw Gage’s SUV maneuver up the winding path and come to a stop in front of the house. He got out and met her as she descended the steps. It was impossible to see his eyes behind the
lenses of a pair of sunglasses. However, his smile indicated he was glad to see her. Her gaze lingered on the slight cleft in his strong chin.
“Hey, beautiful,” Gage crooned as he kissed her cheek.
At that moment Tonya felt beautiful as she leaned into him, savoring his warmth and strength. She had gotten an appointment with the stylist who’d cut her hair for Hannah’s wedding, tipping her generously for her handiwork.
“How are you?” she asked breathlessly.
Gage eased back, his smile still in place. “Better, now that I see you again. You look incredible.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you.”
Tonya had been in a quandary when she couldn’t decide what to wear: slacks, dress, or skirt. Garments were piled high on her bed before she decided to go with a long-sleeved black sheath dress with an asymmetrical neckline; the dress ended at the knees and hugged every curve on her body. She’d tried on several pairs of shoes and in the end slipped her bare feet into a pair of three-inch-heel black leather pumps. She had also applied a light cover of makeup to accentuate her eyes and mouth.
“Do you have to get anything before we leave?”
She raised her left arm, from which dangled a wristlet. “Everything I need is in here.”
“Do you always travel this light when you go out with a man?”
“It all depends on whether I’m forced to bring pepper spray or a Taser.”
His expression changed, suddenly becoming grim. “I hope you’re teasing.”
Tonya rested a hand on his shoulder. “I am.”
His eyebrows lifted behind the glasses. “You had me worried for a minute,” he said as he assisted her up onto the passenger seat.
She waited until Gage was seated and belted in, then said, “Thankfully, I’ve never been in a situation where I had to fight off a man because he didn’t want to believe that no meant no.”
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