Breakfast in Bed

by Rochelle Alers

  Tonya and Gage reversed roles when she became his sous chef. Both had covered their clothes with bibbed aprons, while the ingredients for the various dishes lined the quartz countertop. She hummed along with the music flowing from wireless speakers set up around the first floor as she concocted a marinade for the spareribs, made a dipping chili-soy sauce for the pork dumplings, sliced the ribs in small pieces, and cut beef and carrots into thin strips for the crispy shredded beef.

  “I like your choice in music.” Gage had put on a recording from Evita.

  “Thank you. I’m rather partial to Broadway show tunes.”

  “Which one is your favorite?”

  “I have too many to select from, because most of the plays had finished their run by the time I moved to New York to go to school,” he admitted.

  Tonya gave him furtive glances out of the side of her eye as Gage measured rice wine, sesame oil, sugar, and egg white into a bowl with the minced pork, bamboo shoots, and soy sauce, mixed the ingredients, and then added corn flour. He had halved the recipes, which would result in smaller portions.

  “Now you’re ready to fill the wrappers.” She demonstrated how much mixture to place in the center of each wonton wrapper. “Brush lightly around the edges of the wrapper with water, and then bring the wrapper together in the center by pinching and gathering it at the top.” She placed the wonton on a clean damp towel lining a bamboo steamer, and then handed him the teaspoon. “You try the next one.”

  Gage duplicated what Tonya had done, smiling when he accomplished it quickly. “I think I’ve got it.”

  She smiled. “Excellent. The spareribs need to marinate for a couple hours, so we’ll start with the dumplings as appetizers.”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “Will you share a cocktail with me to go along with them?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “What else but a Mai Tai.”

  Tonya laughed softly. “You’re really going all the way with the Chinese theme,” she teased. “Will I get an orchid and umbrella with my drink?”

  He winked at her. “Sorry, babe, the best I can offer is pineapple garnish.” He made quick work of filling the wrappers and placing them in the steamer.

  * * *

  The sound of falling rain against skylights lulled Gage into a state of total relaxation as he lay on the sofa, his arm resting on Tonya’s waist and his chest pressed against her back. Once the sky darkened with storm clouds, he flicked on wall sconces and table lamps. The afternoon and early evening was nothing short of perfection. The dishes, with a little tweaking from Tonya, were comparable to what he had eaten in New York. Although he had selected recipes that were modified for the Western palate, he knew for certain if she did decide to offer several traditional Asian dishes, they would also become quite popular.

  Over dinner she admitted experiencing bouts of guilt and occasionally sadness when she left her daughter with her parents whenever she had traveled abroad to expand her culinary training. Gage reassured Tonya that her daughter had not suffered too much from the separation if she was planning to graduate college in the coming months.

  He wanted to tell her about his son, who appeared to have adjusted to his parents’ divorce, because he had continued to provide monetary support and maintained a close relationship with Wesley until he turned fifteen. That was when his son’s life took a turn for the worse when he began cutting classes and abusing drugs.

  Gage closed his eyes, but he could still see the image of his son lying in a hospital bed with fluids running into his veins to flush out the poisons polluting his body after he OD’d for what would become the first of many more episodes. Exasperated, Gage told his ex-wife if she didn’t agree to put their son in rehab, he would petition a court to grant him sole custody and cut off her child support. And it was obvious the money he sent Winifred meant more to her than the welfare of their son. Rehab had become a revolving door for Wesley, and the last time he’d had contact with him was the weekend St. John hosted their family reunion. He got a call from Wesley from a Baton Rouge police station, saying that he had been arrested for drunkenness and public lewdness. And inasmuch as he wanted to give up on him, he drove up to the state’s capital, posted bail, and dropped him off at his mother’s house without going inside.

  “Is it still raining?”

  Tonya’s voice shattered his musings. “Yes. I thought you were falling asleep on me,” he whispered near her ear.

  “Not yet.”

  “I know you didn’t plan to sleep over, but I do have an extra bedroom if you don’t want to go home.”

  Shifting, Tonya turned to face him. “Your invitation is rather tempting, but I’ll pass this time.”

  “Are you saying there may be another time?”

  Tonya placed her fingertips over his mouth. “No, I’m not. But if I come over again, I’ll know enough not to accept a cocktail from you. You were rather heavy-handed with the rum.”

  Gage’s fingers curled around her wrist and then pressed a kiss to her palm. “What’s the matter, babe? You can’t hang?”

  She smiled. “I can hang as well as you can.”

  He winked at her. “I assume that’s something we’ll have to find out once I take you with me when we visit several local watering holes.”

  “Not if you plan to do shots like some silly frat boy.”

  His fingers tightened on her wrist. “I didn’t do shots when I was sixteen, and at forty-six I don’t plan to begin now.”

  A beat passed as a slight frown appeared between Tonya’s eyes. “I figured we were around the same age.”

  “We are.”

  “I’m four years older than you.”

  Gage pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. “That hardly makes you a cougar. What’s the adage about age is just a number.”

  Tonya laughed softly. “You’re right about that.”

  He sniffed under her ear. “What perfume are you wearing, because you always smell delicious?”

  “Chance.”

  “Who makes it?”

  “Chanel.” Tonya pulled back, her eyes moving slowly over his face. “Why are you asking?”

  “I’d like to buy a bottle for my mother because she loves perfume.”

  Gage had told her a half truth. His mother did have a weakness for perfume, but she had worn the same scent for as long as he could remember. And when he asked her why she didn’t try a new fragrance, she said it was the first gift his father had given her for their first Valentine’s Day together; not only had she fallen in love with the perfume but also the man who had given it to her.

  “How old was your mother when she married your father?”

  “Nineteen. She met him her last year in high school when she and several of her girlfriends came down for Mardi Gras. Pop was passing by when he saw a group of men who’d had too much to drink trying to pick them up. He pretended to know them and offered to become their protector. Mom gave him her number, and they alternated calling each other Sunday nights. Meanwhile, Pop hadn’t told her he was a widower with a young son.”

  Tonya was so engrossed in the story that she had forgotten to breathe until she felt constriction in her chest. “What happened when she found out?”

  “She said she wanted to meet his boy. It was love at first sight between her and Eustace. He asked Desirée if she was going to be his mother, because she was the first woman Pop had introduced to him. My maternal grandparents tried to talk her out of marrying a man with a ready-made family, but it was too late. They were married on her nineteenth birthday, and I came along a year later. Mom moved back to Lafayette a couple years after Pop passed away to help her folks run the antique shop. Six months ago, she moved them into an assisted living facility because she didn’t trust them to be alone while she went to work after my grandmother forgot to turn off the stove. I drive up to see them once a month.”

  Tonya smiled. “What a wonderful love story.”

  Smiling, Gage ruffled her hair. “So, you
’re a romantic.”

  “I really wouldn’t call myself a romantic, but who doesn’t want to hear about a happily ever after? Should I assume if your father hadn’t died that he and your mother would still be together?”

  “You’re probably right. Anyone who met my parents could see they were madly in love with each other.”

  Stretching her arms above her head, Tonya struggled to sit up. “I’m sorry to be a party pooper, but I need to head home.”

  Gage pushed into a sitting position and swung his legs over the sofa. “Don’t you want to wait until the rain stops?” He’d said the first thing that came to mind because he didn’t want Tonya to leave. Four hours had gone by much too quickly, and he discovered he was more relaxed with Tonya than any other woman he had known. Initially he thought it was because she was a chef, but that was only a small part of what made her who she was. Gage liked that she was intelligent, straightforward, and not afraid to speak her mind. He appreciated her accepting her natural femininity without attempting to change her appearance, and doubted whether she realized she was sexier than a woman half her age.

  “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll take you home.”

  * * *

  Tonya huddled close to Gage’s side as he held an umbrella over both their heads. The rain had intensified, coming down in torrents. One of her pet peeves was wet feet. “I should’ve had you park closer.”

  Gage’s free arm circled her waist. “I don’t mind getting a little wet.”

  Tonya tapped the app on her phone to unlock the door, and then turned to face Gage. Going on tiptoe, she brushed a light kiss on his mouth. “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon.”

  Attractive lines fanned out around his eyes when he smiled. “I should be the one thanking you. We have to cook together again. In the meantime, would you be willing to come to Jazzes to hear me play?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “What if I pick you up Saturday at eight?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be ready.” If Gage was to ask her outright if she liked him, then she would give him a resounding yes. He was the first man with whom she could speak without censoring herself. Being with Gage allowed her to feel completely liberated, and that was something she hadn’t been able to be with any other man.

  Gage pulled her closer. “I’m waiting.”

  She met his eyes. “For what?”

  “Did I pass or fail?”

  Realization dawned for Tonya. He was asking her to grade his cooking. “I give you a B for dinner and a C for the cocktails.”

  Gage stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. If I gave you an A, then there’s no room for improvement. And the C is for trying to get me tanked. I took a sip of yours when you weren’t looking, and it wasn’t as strong as the one you made for me.”

  “That’s because I put less rum in mine. After all, I was the designated driver.”

  Her mouth formed a perfect O. “If that’s the case, then I’ll give you an A for the Mai Tai.”

  He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “That’s better. What are we making next?”

  Tonya thought of the dishes Nydia taught her to prepare. “Caribbean.”

  “You know the Caribbean covers a lot of territory.”

  “We’ll concentrate on Puerto Rico and Cuba.”

  “Nice.” Lowering his head, Gage kissed her forehead. “Talk to you soon.”

  Turning on his heel, he retraced his steps to his vehicle, Tonya watching his retreating back until he disappeared from view. She closed and locked the door, then slipped out of her wet pumps. Under another set of circumstances, if she had known him longer and if Gage had invited her to spend the night at his house, she would’ve readily agreed. His mention of her sleeping in one of the other bedrooms was a blatant indication that he either did not want or did not need to sleep with her, and for that Tonya was grateful. Although she found herself physically attracted to him, she wasn’t ready to engage in a sexual relationship. She enjoyed making love with a man, yet as she matured, it was no longer what she considered the bedrock in any relationship.

  Tonya walked into her bedroom and undressed, thinking about how far she had come from the nineteen-year-old girl who panicked once she discovered, despite using protection, that she was pregnant. It was as if her entire world had been turned upside down. The notion of terminating her pregnancy had not been an option, because she loved Samuel too much to destroy something they had created through the most intimate act that made them one with each other.

  It was only after she miscarried that her grandmother urged her not to stay with Samuel. At the time she did not understand why the older woman had taken an instant dislike to the man she had married, but years later it was obvious her grandmamma saw something in Samuel she couldn’t or refused to see. Even when she had decided to leave her husband, Tonya never regretted staying with him, because the best thing to have come from their marriage was her daughter. Samara was Samuel’s “baby girl,” until he remarried.

  Tonya changed out of the dress and into a pair of gray sweats with a matching tee and thick white socks. It was too early to retire for bed, so she decided to put up several loads of wash. She had just finished sorting the whites from the colored when the doorbell rang. The gates had been closed when Gage drove her back, so she figured it had to be Hannah.

  Peering through the security eye, she was mildly surprised to see the faces of LeAnn and Paige grinning at her. Tonya opened the door, smiling. Both were huddled under an oversize golf umbrella. They were dressed in cropped slacks and long-sleeved tees.

  LeAnn handed her a bottle of champagne. “We missed your arrival, so when we saw Gage Toussaint drop you off, we decided this is as good a time as any to show you that we haven’t forgotten our home training. The champagne is a welcoming gift.”

  Tonya took the bottle, and then opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

  Paige slipped out of her tennis shoes, her sister following suit. “We don’t want to track water over your floor.”

  When first introduced to Hannah’s cousins, Tonya never would’ve thought them related, even though their fathers were brothers. LeAnn and Paige were physically the opposite of tall, blond, green-eyed Hannah, while the sisters were petite, dark-haired, and dark-eyed. They were also much less reserved than their younger cousin. However, on occasion Hannah did drop the F-bomb, if only to prove a point.

  “It’s only water,” Tonya countered. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

  The retired schoolteachers shook their heads. “Gracious, no,” LeAnn said as she folded her body down to a chair with a matching footstool. “We just had dinner with one of our friends, and I’m full as a tick on a dog’s back.”

  Tonya set the bottle on a side table, noting the label. They had given her a bottle of premium wine usually offered at upscale restaurants. “Thank you for the wine. I’ll uncork it after the ribbon cutting for the supper club.”

  Paige sat on the loveseat and fluffed up her short salt-and-pepper hair with her fingertips. “It looks as if Hannah turning this property into a business is about to become a reality. She called to say the workmen are coming Tuesday to begin stripping wallpaper in the second-story bedrooms.”

  “That means we’re going to have to pack up what we need by tomorrow night and move everything to St. John’s house,” LeAnn added.

  Sitting on the sofa, Tonya crossed her feet at the ankles. “Why don’t you move into the other guesthouse?” The sisters looked at each other. “Am I missing something?” she asked.

  LeAnn blew out her cheeks. “It would be too crowded. I love my sister to death, but we’re like the odd couple. I’m a neat freak and Paige, let’s just say, is less than tidy.”

  Tonya was intrigued by this disclosure. “What happens when you travel together? Do you share a room or cabin?”

  “Yes,” Paige said quickly, “because there’s always room service. And St
. John has someone come in to clean his house.”

  Tonya wanted to tell the DuPonts that she hadn’t grown up with someone picking and cleaning up after her and didn’t mind doing housework. When Hannah had told her she had a cleaning service ready the guesthouse for her, she declined her offer to have them come in either weekly or biweekly to clean the guesthouse. Although her present residence was larger than her two-bedroom East Harlem apartment, cleaning it wasn’t what she would consider overwhelming.

  LeAnn shot her sister an angry stare. “Mama used to have a hissy fit whenever she walked into Paige’s room, but after a while she gave up.”

  Paige waved a hand. “Enough talk about me. Do you miss New York?” she asked Tonya.

  “Not yet. I spoke to a friend the other day, and she was complaining about the snow, and that’s one thing I know I’ll never miss. I’m okay with cold weather if I’m dressed for it.”

  “I love going to New York,” LeAnn admitted. “Whenever I’m there I find myself hanging out at Times Square until all hours of the morning. I think it’s the lights I find so addictive. It’s as if they’re calling me.”

  Tonya nodded. “That’s why it’s known as the city that never sleeps.”

  “Hannah told me you’re working at Chez Toussaints,” LeAnn said.

  “I am. Right now I’m trying to learn everything I can about the local cuisine.”

  “I know Eustace probably wouldn’t want to hear this, but he definitely should have a Zagat rating, because his dishes surpass some of the ones served in some of the so-called best restaurants in this city,” Paige said passionately. “But a Zagat rating would probably make it hard for the locals, because tourists would crowd them out.”

  “You’re right about that,” Tonya said in agreement. “He’s only open from eleven to two, and there’s no way he’ll be able to seat more than thirty at any given time inside the restaurant, and that means the lines will be out the door and down the block. Even if Eustace hired another chef, it would be impossible to keep up with the demand.”

  “And now that Gage is acting head of Lafitte High’s music department, he definitely won’t have time to help out his brother,” LeAnn added.