I knew then that even if the girl was a friend, he didn’t want her to stay one. But I agreed to see other people. I agreed because he was already doing it and at least he still wanted to be with me. I agreed because I wasn’t willing to toss away the future we’d planned for so long. I agreed because more heartbreak would’ve physically cleaved me in two. I agreed, most of all, because I love him.
I know it sounds weak. June and Emily, my two closest friends in the world, have made it clear it sounds super weak, but how could loving someone be weakness? And I know he loves me too. What we have is special. I know who he is when no one else is around and he lets down his guard. I see him when the stress of trying to be cool rolls off him and he becomes his real self. How he’s vulnerable and kind. How he’s still the boy I met at the bake sale.
And I get that all through high school we’ve only ever been with each other. It’s normal to want to see what else is out there. Especially before we take this to the next level and move in together. I mean, that’s starting our adult life and a huge step. Doubts and cold feet are to be expected, right? Not too long ago I was drunk and dreaming about Paris, so I get it. I do.
I mostly do.
Somehow, I’ve made it five days into this “seeing other people” thing. It’s almost like a short-term breakup. We’re not supposed to talk until August 1, to really have time and space to make a decision, so the majority of the past week I’ve been in my room listening to “Jolene” and creeping on Paul’s socials. Honestly, it’s turned me into an amateur cyberstalker.
But I can’t stalk today. I have to work at Berry Plum.
Normally, I like my job. I enjoy watching kids fill their bowls with way too much sugar and listening to first dates discuss their favorite toppings. It’s nice to be a part of something that’s a special treat, that makes people happy. But I’d rather stay home and keep checking Paul’s last seen on WhatsApp and refreshing his IG Stories and yeah… maybe I need to get out of my house and focus on something else.
Anything else.
I smooth out my plain white tee in the mirror. The manager doesn’t care what we wear, and this is what I pick: nondescript jeans and a T-shirt I got on clearance at Target. I have them in four colors: black, white, gray, and beige. Katia, who I usually work with, has an array of patterned sundresses she rocks with flawless makeup. Paul used to compliment her on both when he came in. He’d flash his smile and say she looked great.
He’s rarely said that to me over the past year or so.
I close my eyes and sigh: I rarely deserved it. I’ve never tried to look like the girl in the IG pic, and I’m not naturally model gorgeous like Cari.
I grab my phone. I can fix this. I won’t be complacent anymore and if that was the problem—that I didn’t put in enough effort—I can change starting today. But I stop typing the message. A shred of dignity tells me not to press send. Ever since Friday there’s been a thought nettling me, telling me I shouldn’t contact Paul ever again.
The doorbell rings and I startle. My heart pounds like there’s a rabbit thumping in my chest, and I delete the text. I rest my phone on my dresser.
My bedroom door is closed, but a loud, lilting Georgia accent echoes through the walls of our ranch. Aunt Tammy is here. She’s married to Uncle Vin, my dad’s middle brother, the florist extraordinaire. Mom and Dad are the eldest of their siblings, and our house is the epicenter for both sides. Our grandparents used to host their own families, but when all the cousins were little, it was way too much energy with way too many breakable Virgin Mary statues. So my parents took over as hosts of the gathering spot—it’s why the Yaps and Venturas are so close.
There’s another voice in the house, and I can’t tell if it’s Aunt Tammy’s daughter Crystal or Amberlynn, because my older cousins sound so similar. It’s like they’re twins—but born a year apart.
The doorbell rings again, and there’s more commotion and the unmistakably raspy voice of Aunt Jay fills the house. Jay is Mom’s youngest sibling, who’s closer in age to Cari than she is to Mom. She used to be my favorite aunt, and I used to be her favorite niece, but that was all years ago.
The more reserved voice of Uncle Steve follows hers. Uncle Steve married Uncle Carlos, my dad’s next eldest brother.
I know. It’s a lot. I drew a chart for Paul in freshman year so he could keep everyone straight.
Although it’s normal for family to randomly drop by, with that many together at the same time, there’s a reason. The word “graduation” floats around the house.
Ugh. I’d forgotten about my party. I rub my hands over my face and tip my head back.
Paul, of course, had been invited, but because “we’re taking time apart,” he won’t be here Saturday night. My shoulders sink again, but I can’t dwell on it. I have to go or I’ll be late for work. I’m never late. Mom raised me to be punctual.
I throw my hair back in a bun and grab my employee card and step into the hall.
Aunt Jay, Aunt Tammy, Uncle Steve, Cousin Crystal, Mom, and Cari are gathered around the dining room table. There’s food laid out because there’s always food, but Aunt Jay must’ve brought this, because it doesn’t smell Italian or Filipino. As a professionally trained chef, Jay can cook us all under the table. She used to have an award-winning restaurant. And I used to want to be just like her.
I shake off the memories and look up. It’s like a record scratch, freeze-frame as my family notices me. They stay frozen for a second too long, and I know they were talking about me. Mom nudges Jay as if to say: Look at that mess. I told you so.
It takes me everything not to groan.
“Hey, Jaz,” Aunt Jay says brightly. “I brought party dishes to sample. Come and try some. I want your feedback.”
Jay has a similar face to Mom’s, with wide-set blue eyes. They’re both fairly tall for women, five-seven, which means they tower over me. Jay has pixie-cut hair that’s dyed almost as black as mine. She also has a sleeve of tattoos my mother absolutely hates. They are total opposites. Mom looks out for everyone and has said more than once that Jay only cares about herself.
“I’m good with whatever you want to make,” I say, remaining in the hall. I’m not in the mood to talk, and I have mixed feelings about eating Jay’s food again. It used to be all I’d look forward to every week. But a lot of things were different then.
“Come and eat, honey,” Mom says.
I can’t really say no to her. Not with a growling stomach, but I push it off. “I need to go to work,” I say.
“Take some to go then, baby,” Aunt Tammy says, grabbing a serving spoon.
In the Venn diagram of Southern, Filipino, and Italian, they all intersect at: Baby, you need to eat more. Like Cuddles, I’m in no danger of wasting away.
“You have a few minutes still,” Mom says, eyeing her watch. She knows my schedule down to the minute.
A dish materializes with a variety of delicious-smelling appetizers, paella, and thin-sliced tenderloin in gravy. My stomach gurgles in anticipation, because although my aunt stopped wanting me around, she never stopping being a great cook.
Crystal holds the plate out to me with a sad smile. There’s a similar look in Uncle Steve’s gray eyes.
Great, so they all know about Paul. Of course they do. Gossip is my family’s extreme sport.
There’s no way for me to eat standing here, and I don’t eat in the Rolla, so I walk into the dining room and perch on a chair. My mother is right, of course. I have ten minutes, maybe twelve, before I have to be out the door.
“This looks delicious, Aunt Jay,” I say.
“Don’t you think I should make a lasagna or two?” my mom says with a frown. By “a lasagna,” she means an enormous pan of pasta that could feed twenty men.
“Dee, there will be more than enough food,” Aunt Jay says. “There’ll also be fruit and cheese trays, a minisandwich tray, salads, desserts, and the cake for Jaz.”
“It’s one hundred fifty people though.…”
“I catered a four-hundred-person sit-down dinner last weekend,” Aunt Jay says with her hands landing on her hips. “For a very particular bride.”
Mom folds her arms. Challenge accepted. “But the family will expect a pasta dish.…”
This will go on for a while—Mom undercutting Jay and Jay rising to the challenge. Mom acts like a minimother to Jay, who can’t stand to be patronized. And they both always think they’re right. Ever since Jay’s restaurant closed four years ago, it’s only gotten worse.
I tune them out and focus on the beef with gravy. It’s the perfect medium rare and the gravy has a certain umami. It’s flat-out fantastic.
Her food is so good that everyone thought Ventura’s Bistro would be a huge success. And for a while it was. My parents don’t talk about it, but they took out a second mortgage to invest in the restaurant. When it suddenly closed, there was no chance Aunt Jay could pay them back. Mom started working overnight shifts, and Dad’s been driving for a rideshare to make the loan payments and keep a roof over our heads. I hear them whispering about it in the kitchen when they think I can’t hear them or they forget I’m home. One of the reasons I’m going to community college is I know they’re not like Emily’s or June’s parents, who can foot the bill for a university. Valencia offered me a full scholarship and I jumped at it. It was the safest option, and Paul going to UCF meant our schools would be close.
But everything that happened is why becoming a professional chef is just a fantasy. Even for those with the talent, it doesn’t work out. And I don’t have the talent to begin with.
The worst is hopefully behind my parents, though. This past spring Aunt Jay got her catering business off the ground, and despite the aunties (and my mom) saying she should’ve picked a “more worthwhile” profession, it seems to be going well. Maybe this business will succeed and Aunt Jay will be able to pay my parents back.
“Dee, I know what I’m doing,” Aunt Jay says. Her voice is full of exasperation.
“You can sometimes make bad choices,” Mom says.
Everyone stops eating, and silence settles on the room. Jay stares at Mom, then turns on her heels, grabs her shoes, and walks out of the house.
“What? What did I say?” Mom says. But Jay is already gone.
No one answers.
Mom makes a “hmmph” sound in her throat but sits back down at the table. She still looks troubled, but it’s been like this between her and Aunt Jay for the past four years—these barbs and this tension. Mom used to just be proud of her.
I swallow hard. I would never want her to be as disappointed in me as she is in Jay.
“So what color’s your dress going to be, Jaz?” Aunt Tammy asks. She’s also blond like Mom, but with Texan large hair that somehow never moves.
Ugh, the dress. The very last possible thing on my mind. I’d put off Sunday dress shopping with Cari because sobbing in department stores is frowned upon.
“Uh…” I shove another bite in my mouth to buy time to come up with something. But I picked a lobster puff and it’s distractingly good.
“It’s blue,” Cari says. “Almost teal.”
Savior.
Aunt Tammy looks relieved as she cuts into her shrimp. “Oh, good. Mine is peach, Crystal’s dress is yellow, and Amberlynn will be in rose.”
I’m honest to God not sure why it matters, but I nod.
“We can’t wait for the party,” Crystal says. “It’s so exciting!”
I knit my eyebrows at the sparkle in Crystal’s eyes. I have no idea why she’s so stoked about a backyard graduation party.
“It’ll be nice to celebrate with you, Jaz,” Steve says in his gentle tone. His manner has a way of putting everyone at ease—what you’d want in a dentist. Uncle Carlos is also a dentist, and they met at a convention five years ago. They have a practice together now.
“It’ll be great,” I lie. And because I can’t lie, it sounds super forced. “But I have to go or I’ll be late.”
“Yes, get going, honey. You need to be on time,” Mom says. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” I say. I hand my plate to Cari, who’s gathering the dishes.
“We’ll shop tomorrow,” she whispers.
“You’re the best,” I say.
I say my goodbyes and head for my sneakers. As I slip them on, it’s comforting to know that even though the past few days have been rough, I still have my family. And the good thing is, unlike a boyfriend, they’ll never deceive me.
CHAPTER SIX
DAVEY’S PLOTTING FAMILY GROUP TEXT
MAY 22
Aunt Kim
How is Jaz handling everything?
Cousin Crystal
She seemed out of it today
Uncle Steve
She wasn’t herself
Cari
At least she went to work. Getting her out of the house is important since she’s low key turning into Paul’s web stalker. June and Emily locked her out of her phone 'accidentally' last night, and she wasn’t pleased
Aunt Minnie
Ugh, that boy. How’s the search coming along?
We’re getting close to the party
Cari
Lots of interviews, little agreement—same as it’s been
Aunt Kim
What does everyone think of Simon from the bookstore?
(Fifteen seconds of pure silence.)
Aunt Regina
All the boys at my law firm are way too old. Ferdinand, did you say you found someone?
Dad
I did. Our old neighbor is back in town for the summer. Justin Michael has an internship at Disney. I couldn’t believe the luck when he stopped at the library today. He and Jaz were so close. She’ll be thrilled he’s back. I think he’s a great candidate
They’re not running for office, Dad
Cari
For casting. You know what he means
Aunt Jay
There’s a boy from one of the local restaurants I think might be perfect. His name is Eugene and he’s home from college for the summer. I can see if he wants to interview
Aunt Kim
I really think Simon is a nice boy
Cousin Teagan
What did y’all think about Mike Evans?
Cousin Joe
He has a mustache
Cousin Teagan
So?
Cousin Joe
It’s as bad as a fanny pack, but it’s on his face
Cousin Teagan
Some people have them. They can look cool
Cousin Joe
His looks like a lazy ferret
Cari
We have a good start, everyone, but we’re running low on time. Let’s really try to agree. If we keep nitpicking choices, we’ll never have three before the party
Aunt Kim
So that’s a no on Simon then?
Cari
Talk later. Gtg
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARISSA’S PROJECT JASMINE CASTING NOTES
*We’ve gotten so much done this week!!! I wonder if I should do a podcast on this—anonymously, of course. It could be fun to make a show about someone I know. Switch it up and see how I do without the clout of The Bachelor. And okay, yeah, my rival podcaster is getting to me. Vanessa said I’m only number one because I had my show before hers, and I know she’s just trying to get to me, but… it’s working.*
Dad found Justin Michael Simmons, who used to live next door. He moved four years ago. I don’t remember much about him other than he wore glasses and sweatpants, like, every day. I’m hopeful that’s changed?? Pretty nerdy, but Jaz used to spend a ton of time with him.
Okay, he came by the house. No sweatpants in sight, just a handsome, nice guy. We almost wrecked this whole thing before it even got started because Jaz came home early while we were talking to him. We had to sneak him out the back. But, anyhow, he’s a definite top three.
Aunt Kim wants to set Jaz up with Simon from their bookstore. He’s… well, h
e’s the definition of bland. He said his favorite food is water—tap water. I laughed, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t joking.
Aunt Jay loves Eugene Matthews. He goes by Eugene—I don’t know whether to respect or hate that. He’s home for the summer and likes that we’re in this to help Jaz find herself. He’s cute and a definite maybe. Update: I met him and we all agree he’s great. Top three. Just one more to go!
Aunt Tammy found someone who… I’m not convinced he’s… I mean, I’m not calling him a serial killer, but if bodies turned up on his property, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Teagan’s friend Mike is nice, but yeah, that mustache is out of control. He looks like a Mario Brother and his hobby is hunting. No. Jaz cries when the animals at the shelter need to have blood drawn. That’s not going to work.
Everyone else’s choices can be boiled down to: too old, too hairy, too weird, or too into this for the wrong reasons. There was even a guy who turned out to be married????
I found Aaron Coopersmith. Friend of a friend of a friend. He’s twenty and plays Minor League Baseball, which is so cool. He’s from Nashville—so he’ll have a country music connection with Jaz (who seriously needs to stop listening to “Jolene”). He has three younger sisters and clearly loves them—they’re all over his Insta. He was just traded to the Braves and their farm team plays in Kissimmee. I met him for coffee and he’s gorgeous. Charming, easy to talk to, and he likes the novelty of a Bachelorette contest—said it sounds fun. He even follows my podcast. I think I have a winner. We’ll do a Skype interview with my family, but he’ll round out the top three nicely—if they can actually agree on anything. Update: He aced the second interview. He’s in. Thank God we’re ready for Saturday!!!
The Jasmine Project Page 3