He bent to her again and his hands ran down her arms. “Come home with me. Let me prove how much you mean to me.”
When she started to resist, he shrugged. With one swift movement he lifted her over the counter as if she weighed nothing, putting her on her feet before him.
She shrieked with the surprise of it. At the same time, visions of the meal, Gabriel’s Meal, danced through her head, taunting her.
“I can’t,” she breathed.
“Wrong answer,” he told her, and actually smiled.
He bent down and had her over his shoulder before she realized what was happening.
“Put me down!”
“Sorry. Can’t. If you won’t walk on your own, I’ll have to carry you.”
“You can’t carry me to your house like this,” she snapped, bracing herself against his back and flailing her legs, trying to get down. “You’ll get arrested!”
“If a cop stops me, I’ll tell them what you’ve put me through and they’ll drag you to the house for me.”
“Ha-ha. If I tell them what you’ve put me through, they’d arrest you and throw away the key.”
“Portia. I’m serious. One way or another, you’re coming with me.”
She made all sorts of outraged noises, but his grip only tightened, like a vise around her legs, and she realized she wasn’t going to win this one.
“Are you going to walk?” he asked. “Or do I carry you?”
“Has anyone ever told you cavemen aren’t attractive?”
“As a matter of fact, Ariel says pretty much the same thing all the time.”
Instantly, she softened, her body easing on his shoulder. “How is she?”
“Missing you.”
“Playing the guilt card?”
“Just telling the truth. Now, can I put you down so you can get your bag or whatever else you need? Or am I going to carry you home?”
He barely gave her a minute to get her coat and handbag.
“Front door’s already locked,” he said. “We’ll go out the side door.”
She glowered at him, but he remained unfazed, and all too soon they were walking up Columbus Avenue. He took her hand. She yanked it away, only to have him take it again.
“The caveman thing. Unattractive. Remember?”
He just laughed, pulled her hand up to his mouth, and kissed it. She hated that it felt good.
When they arrived on Seventy-third Street, the lights in the town house reminded her of how much she loved the place, standing tall like a wedding cake stacked up into the night sky, snow beginning to accumulate like icing on the window panes and eves.
Gabriel pulled her around to face him, his hand slipping into her hair and tugging her head back so he could see her eyes. “This is your home, Portia. You belong here. With me. With us.”
She thought he was going to kiss her, but at the last minute, he pulled back. “First things first,” he whispered.
They took the steps to the outer vestibule. She was surprised when he led her down to the garden apartment instead of straight inside to his apartment. The smell of fresh paint hit her first. Then she noticed the refinished hardwood floor on the stairs, the quaint welcome mat outside the open front door. Then she heard the sound of people.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, her hand flying to her hair.
“You’ll see.”
“I’m a wreck!” she moaned, hanging back.
“Am I going to have to put you over my shoulder again?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He went for her, but she scampered back up a step. “Bossy.”
“Stubborn.”
It took a second for her mind to register all the people inside. Ariel, Miranda. Cordelia and Olivia. Even Stanley and Marcus.
Abruptly, the others became aware of her.
“Portia!”
She blinked, trying to take it in. Her friends and family were standing in the garden apartment … which had been completely redone.
“Don’t you love it?” Ariel cried, flinging herself forward and winding her arms around Portia’s waist. “Dad did it all himself.”
Miranda nodded. “With his own hands.”
Ariel stepped back. “Same thing, Mir.”
“It’s beautiful,” Portia said, awed.
“It’s your dream,” Ariel explained, hands on her hips, looking bossy and worried, at the same time. “Not all perfect and professional like those people did upstairs. Dad took everything out, did it just like you wanted, then brought all the old junk back in, fixed up, cleaned up.”
“Just as you described,” Gabriel said, his voice deep with emotion. “I listened, Portia.”
He had, that time they had lain together after making love, talking about her vision for the apartment.
“Oh, Gabriel, I don’t know what to say.”
Gabriel stepped forward and took her hands. “Portia, this is your home. The people here, we are your family. And in this town house, you have cooked or baked or done something for each person here. So I asked everyone to make something for you to show their thanks.”
It was then that she noticed the table, set with the pitted silverware and mismatched dishes.
Stanley straightened, after placing a dish on the table. He took one look at her and grimaced. “Good Lord, woman, is that frosting in your hair?”
“Mind your manners, old man.” This from Marcus, who was making room on the table for a platter.
“I can’t tell you the last time I did anything in a kitchen,” Stanley said, jutting out his chin. “But I did, for you. Because you’re a dear,” he added. “So I decided that I would make the one recipe I know. Sweet jalapeño mustard.”
A jolt went through Portia.
“Can you believe it?” Marcus said. “A New Yorker who makes anything with jalapeños?”
“As you well know, I was born and raised in Texas. I might be old, but I still remember my mother’s sweet jalapeño mustard.”
Marcus wrapped a lanky arm around his partner’s stooped shoulders. “Yes, once upon a time you were a good ol’ boy from south of the Mason-Dixon Line. I made my fried chicken for you, Portia, to go with my beloved’s mustard.”
A chill ran down her spine.
“Miranda and I made biscuits!” Ariel cheered.
Portia couldn’t move. She felt Olivia looking at her for a long beat, her brow furrowing. Then Olivia laughed and came forward, taking her hands, pulling her close, pressing her forehead to Portia’s. “Some things are true whether you believe them or not,” Olivia whispered just for her.
Portia’s breath let out in a rush; then she threw her arms around her sister.
She then pivoted to face Gabriel. “But how did you know?”
His brow furrowed. “Know what?”
“The meal. You—this is the meal. It’s your meal.”
“What are you talking about? I just asked everyone to bring something for you, something they could make, something that meant something to them.”
Portia swept her gaze over the table. The slaw was there, the buttery mashed potatoes. Each item from Gabriel’s Meal sat on the table, just as she had seen it in her mind—this menu, in this garden apartment that she had loved since she was a child.
She didn’t realize Gabriel had gone to the kitchen until she turned and found him reappearing. Before she could say anything, he held out a dish. “Strawberry pie—”
“With fresh whipped cream,” Portia breathed.
“I made it,” he said. “Can’t swear to how good it is, but I know you love strawberries, and the girls say it’s the only thing I’ve made in a month that was half edible.”
“I can’t believe it,” Portia whispered. “You were the ones who were supposed to make the meal. Not me. That’s why mine didn’t work.”
She looked at each person in turn, and then finally at Gabriel. “This is the meal that came to me when I first saw you on the steps. The meal I tried to make, but ruined.”
&n
bsp; She didn’t wait another second. She ran to Gabriel, throwing her arms around him. “We’re meant to be.”
He tipped her head back. “It’s the meal, the food, that’s what convinced you?”
“Yes.” Portia hesitated, holding her breath. “Do you understand?”
He looked into her eyes, really looked. Then he smiled. “What I understand is that the rest of my life will be filled with food, food that answers questions that haven’t been asked yet, food that you know we need before we know why.” He lowered his voice. “You’re mine, Portia, and have been since the day I found you on the steps in your flowered shoes.”
There was a universal groan, and Gabriel glanced over, as if he’d forgotten anyone else was there.
“What?” he demanded.
Ariel spoke up first. “Maybe think about asking her if she wants to be yours.”
Portia only laughed. “The way I look at it,” she said, “he’s mine. The truth of a meal never lies. Seems only fair that I give back as good as I get.”
Gabriel wrapped her in his arms then and kissed her, a deep claim mixed with an even deeper love and respect.
“Get a room,” Olivia demanded with an amused smile.
“Seriously?” Miranda added.
“Sheez,” Ariel chimed in.
“Come, sit, Portia,” Cordelia said, taking charge. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
They gathered around the table and ate the meal, every last bite.
Later that night, Portia didn’t return to the tiny rented apartment on Columbus Avenue. She stayed in the garden apartment and crawled into the old bed Gabriel had restored for her. Joy filled her for the first time in weeks when the man she was meant to be with climbed down the fire escape and into her room.
“Girls in bed?” she asked, sitting up.
He nodded and lay down next to her, pulling her to him. “I’m never letting you leave again,” he whispered.
“No more secrets?”
“No more secrets.”
“Can you really live with me knowing things are needed before we know why?”
He rolled on top of her, his hands framing her face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then he kissed her, long and deep, and Portia knew she had truly found her home.
Sixth Course
Dessert
Mountains of Wildly Sweet Watermelon with Fresh Violet Garnish
Forty-seven
THE GLASS DOOR OPENED, ringing the old-fashioned bell over the entrance to The Glass Kitchen. But the café was closed, and the customer was told to come back the next day.
Miranda was doing homework, Portia frosting a cake. Cordelia was setting one of the long tables with old silver and mismatched earthenware, while Olivia was arranging flowers and playing around with some sort of new software.
Ariel sat hidden in a small area in the back that had yet to be organized. No one in The Glass Kitchen knew she was there. She hadn’t meant to stay out of sight. But when she came in through the side door, everyone was so busy that no one noticed her.
She sighed at the thought, hating the possibility that she would always be disappearing, an adjunct to these people, not ever completely a part of them.
But the minute the thought flitted through her head, she realized what the cake Portia was frosting was for. Her birthday. Today she was thirteen.
Ariel had sat down on an overturned plastic bucket, shocked. All these people were throwing a surprise party for her. So she stayed out of sight while they finished preparing, even though the brand-new cell phone her dad had gotten her kept vibrating because Miranda was texting her over and over, wondering where she was. Ariel watched and listened as they talked about making all of her favorite things.
Her life had changed so much in the last few months. As the New York Times food critic had written, “The Glass Kitchen, owned and operated by three Texas sisters who create magical food in a world that sometimes spins too fast, is a must for demanding New Yorkers.”
The original Glass Kitchen cookbooks were kept in a country cupboard near the old-fashioned register, and were going to be published next year. Portia might have hidden them away in a closet for the first months she was here, but now Ariel found her poring over them almost every day.
The bigger change had come when Portia married her dad and moved in with them. Slowly Portia was turning the whole place into what even Ariel could see was going to be a real home.
When she saw everything was ready, Ariel nearly chirped with excitement, pulling out her phone and finally answering one of her sister’s texts.
“Ariel will be here any minute,” Miranda shouted, excited in a way that was still hard to believe.
But Portia had pulled Miranda into her circle, which made Ariel wonder if all along Miranda hadn’t felt a little bit invisible, too.
“Is everyone ready?” Portia asked. She was rubbing her stomach again, the way she’d started to now that she was carrying around a baby in there.
At first, Ariel had been jealous, afraid her dad and Portia having a baby would crowd her out. But watching everyone talk about Ariel’s favorite things made her realize she wasn’t being as incredibly smart as she really was to think that.
She saw her dad walk over and pull Portia close, putting his big hand over hers. “Ready,” he said.
Ariel knew that was her cue.
She slipped out the side and started to run the short distance to the front door, but forced herself to calm down. Then, taking a deep breath, she walked the last few feet to the front of The Glass Kitchen and stepped inside.
The bell rang overhead. She watched as Dad and Portia, Cordelia and Olivia, Miranda, and Marcus and Stan, whipped around. Even her grandmother Helen was there, still sad that Uncle Anthony had moved to Spain, but sort of resigned. Dad, with Portia’s help, or maybe her insistence, had been trying to include Nana in more of their family dinners. Good luck with that, Ariel had swallowed back more than once.
At the sight of her, the whole crew’s eyes lit up.
“Surprise!” they cheered.
Ariel slapped her hand to her chest and gasped. “Oh, my gosh! For me?”
Portia raised an eyebrow, and Ariel knew that her new stepmom saw right through her. Ariel just smiled as everyone crowded around her, bellowing the Happy Birthday song, Marcus and Olivia doing a good job of hamming it up. As soon as they were done, Ariel’s dad came over and picked her up, twirling her around. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart. You’re now officially thirteen.”
She held on tight, relishing the fact that he was her dad. No one could take her away from him. They had legal papers to prove it.
He set her down and guided her to the table. All of her favorite foods marched down the center like an ordered list of prime numbers. Or maybe not, she amended. Maybe the dishes were lined up like grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, cupcakes, banana pudding. And watermelon. Mountains of wildly sweet watermelon littered with violet petals, and even a centerpiece made from those same purple flowers.
Watermelon and violets.
She felt her eyes get hot, because it was like Portia had made sure her mom was there, too. And then, proving the point, Portia’s arms went around her from behind and she said, “I’m so happy that she led me to you, sweetie.”
Ariel leaned back into her, holding on to her hands.
The day Portia and Dad got married, Portia told her that they were one big family now.
“We’re like a big pot of vegetable stew,” Portia told her that day. “All the better for the mix of different flavors, even if it’s messy.”
Everyone started talking to her at once then, asking her questions, handing her presents. In one way or another, all these people here in The Glass Kitchen, all of them mixed together, big and messy, looked at her, saw her. She realized then that Portia was right. This had been the solution to her problem all along, because a big, messy mix of family like this would never let her disappear.
THE
GLASS KITCHEN MENU
First Course
Appetizer
Chile Cheese and Bacon-Stuffed Cherry Tomatoes
Second Course
Soup
Crab and Sweet Corn Chowder
Third Course
Salad
Grapefruit and Avocado Salad with Poppy Seed Dressing
Fourth Course
Palate Cleanser
Blood Orange Ice
Fifth Course
The Entrée
Fried Chicken with Sweet Jalapeño Mustard
Sixth Course
Dessert
Mountains of Wildly Sweet Watermelon with Fresh Violet Garnish
First Course
Appetizer
Chile Cheese and Bacon-Stuffed Cherry Tomatoes
INGREDIENTS
20 cherry tomatoes
½ lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
1/3 cup chopped green chilies (Old El Paso canned works well)
½ cup grated mix of Asadero or Monterey Jack cheese with Cheddar cheese
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350°F. Carefully cut off a thin slice from the top of each tomato. Hollow out the pulp, leaving a thin layer inside, and discard the extra pulp. Turn the tomatoes upside down on a paper towel to drain. In a bowl, combine all the remaining ingredients. Mix well. Spoon the mixture into the tomatoes. Spray a cookie sheet with nonstick vegetable spray. Place the tomatoes on the cookie sheet. Bake approximately 15 minutes, or until the cheese is melty.
Second Course
Soup
Crab and Sweet Corn Chowder
INGREDIENTS
4 strips of bacon
2 tbsp. butter
½ cup yellow onion, chopped
½ cup carrot, chopped
½ cup celery, chopped
4 cups frozen yellow corn kernels, thawed
4 cups whole milk
3 cups low-salt chicken broth
1 medium potato, peeled and diced
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 bay leaf
Salt and pepper to taste
6 tbsp. sour cream
½ lb. freshly cooked crab meat, cut into bite-sized pieces
DIRECTIONS
In a large saucepan, sauté the bacon until crisp. Place the bacon on a paper towel to drain. Pour off all but one tablespoon of bacon renderings. Add 1 tablespoon. butter, melt. Sauté the onion until soft. Add the carrots and celery; cook for 5 minutes. Set aside. Purée two cups of corn. Now, add all the corn to the onion, carrots, and celery. Mix thoroughly. Add the milk, broth, potatoes, cayenne pepper, and bay leaf, plus half of the crumbled, crisp bacon. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes. Remove the bay leaf. Add salt and pepper to taste. Continue to simmer for an additional 10 minutes. Set the pan aside and let cool slightly. Stir in the sour cream.
The Glass Kitchen Page 32