Ade snorted. “Yeah, he’s reading from a seafood encyclopedia. Patrick loves it. He stares at his daddy. One day he’ll be fussier about what books he listens to, but for now he loves the sound of Owen’s voice, and he couldn’t care less about the literary subject matter.” She grinned. “Owen is the best. I can’t imagine a better father.”
I kicked off my shoes and sank into the cushion. “I’m so happy for you. I was going to ask if everything was all right between you two. There seemed to be a little tension last night over his job and the apartment.”
“Oh, that,” she said dismissively. “Yeah, his job is sort of crappy, and we’d love to live in a big fat house in the suburbs, but I’m nuts about him. I really am. And you know,” she said as she leaned into me, “we were pretty damn happy when we got the doctor’s okay to have sex again. Let me tell you, no one wants to have sex when she’s humongously pregnant. And then, after the delivery? Please, I thought that no one was ever getting close to that region again. Who knew? Now that we’re both get-tin’ some lovin’… Well, it’s a happy household.” Ade got such a dreamy look on her face that I couldn’t help laughing.
“I’m glad to hear it, but considering that I think of Owen as a brother, I’ll pass on any graphic details.”
“I think you just don’t want to know because you’re not getting any yourself.”
“Hey!”
“Well, it’s true. Or maybe you’re not ready?”
“I’m ready.” I scooped up Gato and sat him on my lap. “Ready-ish.”
“Liar! You are so not over Josh.” Ade smirked happily. “Good.”
“Good? It’s not good. It sucks. I hate to admit that I’m not over him. After he totally ditched me and flew off to Hawaii? I can’t still be in love with him.”
“But you are,” Ade said gently. “And from what you’ve told me about that hot- and-heavy make-out session you two had the other day, I’d say he’s still in love with you.”
“Josh only came back to Boston because he thinks Digger’s death was a murder.” I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. “He didn’t come back for me.”
“Actually, I don’t know if that’s true. Josh called me today,” Ade confessed. “He wanted to know what you thought was going on with Digger before he died.”
“He called you?”
“Yup. He was in a rotten mood. Partly because of Digger, partly because he’s staying with Snacker, whose girlfriend is there all the time, and partly because of you.”
“What did he say about me? What did he say?” I demanded.
“He didn’t have to say anything, Chloe. I know Josh pretty well, and I know that he was fishing for details. Asking me how you were, what you’ve been up to, that kind of thing.”
“Did he say anything about hearing Kyle last night when he called?”
“No, not specifically, but he wouldn’t ask about you if he didn’t still care. I could hear it in his voice.” Adrianna cocked her head to side and looked at me. “Chloe? Why didn’t you go to Hawaii with Josh?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you go to Hawaii?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ade! People don’t just drop their lives and run off to Hawaii for the hell of it.”
“It wouldn’t have been for the hell of it. It would have been for you. For you and Josh.”
“I have responsibilities. School, for one. My whole family is in Boston. And there’s you and Owen and Patrick. I wasn’t about to leave all of you,” I insisted. “Oh my God! You think I should have gone.”
She shrugged. “You said no awfully quickly.”
“He asked awfully quickly,” I spat back. “He asked me to go with him and left the next day.”
“True. But you could have met up with him. You didn’t have to leave that minute. And there are other graduate schools in the country, including in Hawaii, I’ll bet, and plane rides home and phone calls and e-mails.”
“I cannot believe you. So you wouldn’t have cared if I’d just left?”
“Of course I would have cared, dummy. I would miss you like crazy. We all would. But you and I will always be best friends, no matter where you are.”
“Hawaii is not exactly an option now, is it? I said no, and we broke up. What’s done is done.”
“It’s not done yet, Chloe,” Ade said as she put her hand on my arm. “You don’t get that many chances at truly mind-blowing romance. I almost lost Owen once, and I thank God every day that I didn’t. He is without a doubt the love of my life. And I think Josh might be yours.”
“Well, he’s not. Stop talking like we’re fated to be together or some nonsense like that. More important than my stupid love life is what happened to Digger. So, Josh is asking around about him? I only had one short phone call with Digger a few days before he died, and I didn’t get the sense that anything was wrong. I mean, sure, he was working like crazy to get the restaurant ready to open, but that’s nothing unusual. The only weird thing that’s happened is that his girlfriend, Ellie, was all heartbroken and depressed about Digger’s death one minute and then furious and hateful about him the next. Somebody else might know more, but I hadn’t really been in touch with Digger since Josh left. Division of friends and all that. You can tell Josh that.”
“Tell him yourself.” Ade winked at me and set her coffee down. “I’m starving. Got anything to eat?”
“Yeah, help yourself,” I said distractedly.
Adrianna got up to get us a snack, and I poked through the mail. I couldn’t believe that Josh had called Adrianna. She was my best friend, and he knew damn well that she’d tell me about their phone call. I set aside a few bills to pay and scanned a menu for a new Vietnamese restaurant that had just opened. There was also a formal-looking envelope that had my name and address practically embossed in red lettering. I ripped it open, wondering whether someone I knew was getting married. The ivory note card inside, which was covered in the same fancy lettering as the envelope, turned out to be an invitation to the opening of the Penthouse. The date was the coming Friday: short notice. But Digger’s death must have thrown a major wrench into the restaurant’s plans. I dropped the invitation in my lap. Ellie had obviously put me on the guest list, and my name hadn’t been removed after Digger’s death. Well, I was always happy to support a new restaurant, and the food was sure to be good; Digger had presumably been replaced with someone equally gifted in the kitchen.
I looked more closely at the invitation to see who the new executive chef was. Jason Freelin. It took me a second to place the name. Although I actually knew Jason Freelin, no one ever called him that. He was known only as Snacker. So, Josh’s old (well, now temporarily current) roommate and former sous-chef at Simmer had taken over for Digger! I was amazed, mystified, and skeptical. I mean, I loved Snacker. He was funny, charming, and charismatic, and he really was a wonderful friend to Josh and a great cook. But as the title suggests, an executive chef needs to have exactly the kind of executive ability that Snacker lacked. I simply could not picture Snacker mustering the skill to lead an entire staff and to run the whole business end of the kitchen at a large restaurant. Executive ability must’ve been why Digger got the job in the first place; besides being talented, he was tough, disciplined, and organized. Yeah, he swore all the time and had a bit of a temper, but he knew how to take charge, and he could get the job done. Snacker, on the other hand, was more likely to flirt with hot waitresses than he was to do inventory or to prepare for health department inspections.
When Adrianna set a plate down on the table, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. She’d put together some cheese, crackers, olives, and slices of sopresatta. “Yum!” I smeared some creamy goat cheese onto a cracker and showed Ade the invitation. “Check out who got Digger’s job.”
Adrianna scanned the note card. “Who the hell is Jason Freelin?”
“You made out with him and you don’t know his name? That’s Snacker.”
“You have to be kidding me. When would he have time to
run a restaurant, what with all the flirting he’s got to fit into his day? I feel sorry for that Georgie girl. Snacker can’t be the best boyfriend out there.”
“Wait, what?” I spoke through a mouthful of food. “Did you say Georgie?”
Ade nodded. “Yeah, Josh mentioned her name to me. Why? Do you know her?”
Of course. Georgie was Ellie’s friend, the one I’d called to be with Ellie after I’d broken the news about Digger. Ellie had called Georgie’s boyfriend Jay. Aha! Jay had to be short for Jason. Only a girlfriend could get away with calling Snacker by anything close to his real name. One of the women, Ellie or Georgie, must have introduced the other to Digger or to Snacker. Digger and Snacker were old friends who’d been competing for the same job at the Penthouse. I explained the foursome to Adrianna.
“I bet Digger kept Snacker in line with Georgie. Digger seemed like a good guy. I hope Snacker wasn’t too pissed off at him for beating him out for the job.”
“Well… what if he was? You don’t think Snacker would… you know?” I ran my finger across my throat.
“Don’t you think for one minute that Snacker killed Digger! Are you insane?”
“I know you and Snacker had your little thing a while back, but it doesn’t mean you have to scream at me for thinking out loud.” I crossed my arms and glared at her.
“First of all, stop referring to my poorly chosen little dalliance with Snacker. It was nothing but a few hot kisses here and there, and it was a stupid, horrible mistake, and I’m lucky Owen forgave me for it. But, by the way”-she leaned toward me-“he is a fantastic kisser. Not too much tongue, strong lips. So if things don’t happen with Josh or Kyle, you might want to look his way.”
“Now who’s gone insane?” I playfully pushed her away. “Look, if Josh thinks that someone killed Digger, then it’s worth thinking about. What Josh said was that Digger was a professional chef who’d never have done something careless at home that could start a kitchen fire.”
“So you’re suggesting that Snacker killed Digger to get his job? Snacker was already the sous-chef there, right? Why would he want more responsibility? You know how he is, Chloe. He’s a goof. Yes, he’s probably fooling around on poor Georgie, so fine, maybe you could call him disloyal and opportunistic, but he didn’t murder anyone. Who else could have wanted Digger out of the picture?”
“There’s this neighbor of Digger’s, Norris, who actually seemed relieved that he didn’t have to live next door to Digger anymore.” I told Ade about Norris’s litany of complaints against the chef. “And why is Ellie suddenly so bullshit at her dead boyfriend? I have no idea what that’s about.”
“So you’ve got a chef, a neighbor, and a girlfriend to investigate now.”
“Josh started this, so blame him. And stop hogging the Brie.”
FOURTEEN
“ I’LL take it,” I said to the salesgirl. I smoothed my hands down the luxurious fabric and checked myself out in the three-way mirror. Josh could eat his heart out when he saw me. He was bound to be at the restaurant opening on Friday, and there was no way I was wearing something less than spectacular to the event. And this form-fitting navy number was exactly what I needed to make a smashing entrance. It was Thursday, and I had a two-hour break between classes in the middle of the day, giving me enough time to shop before my supervision class.
“It really suits you perfectly.” The salesgirl nodded her approval. “Are you going somewhere special?”
I’m going to see my ex, and I need to look like a sexy love vixen and make him drop to the floor, overwhelmed by his stupidity for ever leaving me. “Just a restaurant opening tomorrow.”
“Well, you’ll look great. Do you have a nice coat to go with this? You can’t throw any old winter coat over this designer piece.” She frowned at the contemptible image.
Twenty minutes later, I left the upscale shop with the dress and a matching faux- fur-lined coat. More purchases to pay off, but it would be worth it. I called Kyle from the car. “Did you get your invitation to the Penthouse’s opening on Friday? I thought maybe we could go together. Adrianna and Owen are going, too. I called to RSVP and managed to get Ade and Owen in with me.”
“You bet. It looks great. But do you think it’ll upset you because of your friend Digger? It was supposed to be his opening.”
“I think it’s important for me to be there for his sake. Besides, I know Snacker, who’s taken over as the executive chef, and I’m sure he could use the support.” I failed to mention my intention to pass Kyle off as my date in front of Josh, but Kyle didn’t need to know everything.
“Why don’t I pick you all up at seven on Friday night?” Kyle offered.
“Wonderful. And I’m making excellent progress on the book. I can update you at the opening.” It was a small lie. My progress on the book wasn’t exactly excellent, but there were only so many recipes that I could test myself. I had to fight to fit in classes, homework, and cookbook work, and I certainly didn’t have the energy or the drive to stay up until three in the morning cooking delicacies. There was just too much testing for one person to accomplish, and I’d been brainstorming about whom to enlist to help me. I could probably get my parents and my sister to test a few recipes, but even with their help, the amount of work felt overwhelming.
I loaded my bags in the car and headed back to school. The supervision group was my least hateful class, so I wasn’t dreading this afternoon as much as I dreaded the rest of school. It was a small class, made up of ten students and one teacher, and we met in one of the comfortable lounges on campus, where we all got to spread out on couches and cushy chairs and sip coffee from one of the vending carts. This class was our opportunity to present our cases to our peers and to get feedback on our performance and input from others about treatment options. Somehow, it felt sort of gossipy to trade stories about other people’s lives, but I admit that I enjoyed hearing other students’ anecdotes. Slipping into the lounge just as the professor was about to shut the door, I grabbed the end seat on my favorite couch.
I listened to students present several cases that made mine look like a walk in the psychotherapeutic park. Julie was doing her field placement in the foster-care system, a setting that not only required her to navigate a nightmare tangle of red tape, but also involved challenging, emotionally demanding client work as well. Robert and Ann Marie were both at a geriatric home, and Simon was working at a community outreach program for teens. When it was my turn to present, I pulled my case files out of my folder and set them on my lap. I also had handy a rather sizeable stack of recipes that had to be tested. The recipes didn’t exactly need supervision, but should there happen to be any volunteers…
“So, Chloe, tell us about this week’s session with Ms. A.” Professor Ruiz adjusted his nearly invisible glasses and crossed his legs, raising his pant legs to reveal mismatched socks.
We never used clients’ real names. Instead, we referred to a client by the first letter of the person’s first name, or we made up a name. Julie always named her clients after celebrities. We’d spent last week’s class hearing all about “Bono’s” struggle to find a loving foster family to take him in. The week before it had been “Mark Wahlberg’s” suspension from high school for smoking pot in the girls’ room. My professor had cut Julie off when she’d launched into a speech about how poor “Colin Powell” had caught gonorrhea from “Bruce Springsteen.” I just stuck to letter names.
I scanned my notes. “Well, Ms. A continues to remain unsatisfied in her current relationship with T. She claims he is dull and unexciting, and she now has her sights set on a professor who is more than twice her age. It’s my impression that she may have concocted his attraction to her and that she has created a romantic connection between herself and the professor as a way to escape her reality. Her current boyfriend actually sounds like a really decent guy who adores her, and I wonder if she has fabricated a relationship with this new man as a way to avoid intimacy.” I paused. “As a way to protect herself
from getting hurt.” The picture I was painting suddenly started to sound all too familiar. I hadn’t deluded myself into believing that I had a romantic relationship with Kyle, but there was, I had to admit, a genuine possibility that, in fantasizing about him, I was avoiding real intimacy. “Um, let me move on to D, whose father continues to put unreasonable demands on him leading D to push himself further and further to impress his father. An impossible task, if you ask me. I cannot get D to see that he needs to recognize his own wishes and goals and not to live his life according to this asshole’s… er, excuse me… the unreasonable paternal expectations.” When I shared Danny’s hand injury with the class, everyone was as visibly horrified as I was. Shared. In supervision, we were encouraged not simply to describe or report or tell things; rather, we were supposed to share them. “And yet, even with incidents like that, D continues to want to please his father.”
Julie whipped out a pencil, stood up, and paced the floor in front of me. “I think there is an important angle to look at here. Let me take a guess. The more this father pushes his son, the more the son screws up, correct?”
“Yes, actually, that’s true.” I nodded emphatically.
“Okay, so D’s image of his father is one of an important, successful, almighty power, essentially. That only serves to increase the son’s sense of incompetence, thereby making him genuinely incompetent. Like the accident with his hand? Probably a result of his nerves and his fear of failure. He’ll never feel whole and develop positive self-esteem until he stops believing everything his father says.” Julie sat back down, clearly pleased with her insight.
“You’re right,” I said. “But how in the world do I help him see what’s so obvious to us?”
Professor Ruiz leaned forward, intertwined his fingers, and looked thoughtfully at me. “If I were D, I would be pretty angry at my father. But it sounds like your client has turned that anger onto himself. See if you can get him to acknowledge that feeling. It’s okay to love someone and also hate some of the person’s behavior and words. That’s a tough dichotomy to balance, but we are allowed to have mixed feelings about the important people in our lives.”
Cook the Books Page 11