by Kelly Cain
When we finally calm a bit, Wyatt asks, “Have you told Mama?”
That sobers me right up. Mama isn’t up to this competition. “I haven’t, but do you think she hasn’t been well because of the stress of losing the lease?” Getting The Letter has taken a toll on all of us. I didn’t take Wyatt’s gentrification warning seriously although the landlord had already dropped his bomb. We just hadn’t read it yet. The building is being sold and our lease won’t be renewed. We have six months to find a new home, which is basically impossible because anywhere available nearby is twice what we pay now. And that’s for the same size space.
“She was fatigued before we heard the building was being sold. She’s probably gotten worse because of the stress. What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure. I was heading over to her house after I talked to you. Have you spoken to her today?”
“Yeah, earlier. She called Sue to say she wasn’t coming in so I called her. Daddy was on his way over there when I talked to her.”
I rub the back of my neck and stretch out the stress settling there. “We’ll figure something out. She definitely can’t do it though. I have an idea, but I need to talk to her first and check with the producer.”
“Good luck.” He pats me on the back and heads back into the restaurant.
I round the corner and get in my car. When I clear the parking lot, I raise the volume of my stereo, pumping “Fire Tribute” out my rolled-down windows. I need to clear my head and think. We need all our bases covered before we can leave in a week for the competition. Plus, now the show wants to come this weekend for their B-roll filming. They’re already scheduled for the Everheart Bar and Fine Dining Saturday.
Daddy’s truck is in what’s coming to be his regular spot when I drive up to Lillie’s house. It’s a comfort to know we can depend on him to still take care of Mama when she isn’t well. I use my key in case she’s resting.
First, I check the kitchen, but no one’s there so I continue through to the dining room. Daddy is seated at the table with his laptop out and glasses on, studying his screen so attentively, he doesn’t even notice me.
“Hi, Daddy. Everything okay?” I lay a kiss on his forehead.
He closes his laptop and squeezes my hand. “Mostly. I have a meeting in Houston I’ll have to be at early Monday morning so I’ll need to leave Sunday. Will you be able to look after your mother?”
“That’s why I came over. We’re back in the competition. They’ll be here during Sunday’s lunch service to film, then I can come over here after. Is she really not doing so well that she needs care all the time?” I hold my breath, waiting for his reply, my heart beating a worried tune.
“She’s just been so tired. Occasionally she has a headache with blurry vision. Been more moody than usual, but otherwise she said she doesn’t feel bad. Just really tired.” He rubs his chin, today’s stubble sprouting out. “You know she can’t go to San Francisco, don’t you?”
I nod. “I know. I plan to ask the show if Hannah can sub in for her since she’s engaged to Wyatt. Then I have to ask Hannah if she wants to do it.” I pull out a chair and relax into it. My emotions have been all over the place this evening and now I’m feeling a bit tired. “Are you worried about Mama?”
“I am because these flares are lasting longer and occurring more frequently. Her doctors say it’s just a phase of the disease and she has to be better with her diet. After forty plus years of eating the same way, it’s been a difficult adjustment. I’m not sure how she does when nobody’s watching.”
He takes his glasses off, then leans back in his chair. His button-down shirt is wrinkled, something completely out of character.
“I guess you heard about the lease for the restaurant.”
He nods, a frown creasing his face. “I did. I think that’s causing a much bigger strain on your mother than she’s letting on. You know I’d help her if she’d let me.”
“I do know. I honestly don’t understand how she can be so stubborn when she needs her income so badly. And her health insurance. I hope we can win this competition.” I fidget with the hem of my T-shirt miserably.
“I know, sweetheart. What about you?”
I’ve been so focused on saving Mama’s restaurant, I haven’t had a lot of brain space to think about myself too much. “I’ll figure something out for me. I’ll be out of an apartment soon so I should probably start there. I have a little savings and I’m not worried about finding a job. Hopefully I can take my time to get the right one though.”
“Don’t you want a restaurant of your own?”
I desperately do, but I’m not sure I’m ready. I’ve happily let Mama look after the business side while I concentrated on improving the menu when she let me. “Someday.”
“You know that if you need my help until you get everything sorted out, you have it.”
Unlike my stubborn mother, I don’t hesitate to take my father’s help. Yeah, I’m grown and not his responsibility anymore technically, but I don’t mind having that safety net. “Thanks, Daddy. I know, and I’ll definitely take you up on it if I can’t work everything out. I just hate having to give up my apartment. It’s perfect for me at this point in my life. And I’m sad about giving up the garden too.”
He rubs his eyes and sags in the chair.
“Go home and get some rest. I’ll stay here tonight.”
He stands and leans down to me, wrapping me in a one-arm hug. “Call me if you need me.”
Once Daddy’s gone, I peek into Mama’s room. She’s asleep, and since it’s getting late, I make up the bed in a spare bedroom, then pull out my phone. I open my contacts and select the name, staring at it a long time before I make the call.
How to Disappoint Your Mama
1 caring daughter/slightly overbearing chef
1 cooking competition
1 unsuspecting mother/controlling restaurant owner
Start with daughter making a unilateral decision about competition. Add mother blowing a gasket.
Yield: 1 very angry mother
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Unexpected caregiver.
I’m almost surprised when Mike answers, since he’s behind us in time and they’re probably still doing dinner service. That was likely more wishful thinking on my part than anything else.
“Hi there. It’s Rowan.” Like that wouldn’t have come up on his caller ID.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
Yeah, I deserve that. I haven’t exactly been a bastion of returning phone calls and texts the past couple weeks.
“Well, yes. I guess everything’s okay. The Ortiz family dropped out of the competition so we’re back in.”
The surprise in his voice definitely comes through the phone, but he also sounds happy enough. “That’s wonderful. I’m so glad for you.”
“Thank you. So, I don’t know how to say this, but since we’ll see each other next week, I wanted to call.” Seriously, I really don’t know how to say this.
“It’s okay. We’re better as friends. I get that.”
“Sorry. I’m the worst.”
“Seriously not true, Rowan. You’re a great person. I get that you didn’t realize how much you like Knox. I don’t take offense.”
Um, whaaa? “Why would you say that?”
He’s silent so long, I have to look at my cell phone to ensure we’re still connected. “Mike?”
“It’s none of my business at all, but it just seems really obvious how much you’re into each other.”
“We are not. We hate each other.” Yes, I’m back to that. I’ve worked out my stupid feelings and I was being reckless. Knox is always impulsive so this was a train wreck waiting to happen. It was just a weird attraction, and he made that clear the last time we saw each other.
“Okay. Hey, I have to get going. We’re finishing up at the restaurant and I’m needed.”
“Sure, okay. See you next week?”
“Yes, see you then. Bye, Rowan.”
I don’t get a chance to say goodbye because the phones disconnect. That was so weird. I have no idea why Mike would think such a thing. It’s fine. Whatever. I sink under the covers and run the conversation with Mike through my mind. Then I think about the very last time I saw Knox: “I don’t need to try to beat Rowan.” Nope, Mike is definitely wrong.
After a fitful night of sleep (no dreams that I can remember, thankfully), I crawl out of bed and into the guest bathroom, washing my face and teeth and getting some sort of semblance of normalcy to my coily hair. When I come out, smells of buttery bread float down the hallway from the kitchen. I go to investigate as Mama is pulling rolls out of the oven. I look at my watch. How long have I been asleep? It’s only seven in the morning, so she must have risen at five at the latest even if she was using rapid-rising yeast. She has ham and eggs sizzling in the pan, and I’m thoroughly flummoxed.
“What’s going on, Mama?”
She jumps a country mile, dropping the tongs she was holding.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Where did you come from?”
I blink. “Um, the bathroom? Why?”
“When did you get here?”
Oh, okay. This is making sense now. Somehow, she didn’t know I was here all night. I guess she wouldn’t considering she’d already gone to sleep, but seems like she should have heard me in the bathroom at least. “I came last night before Daddy left. You were sleeping, so I checked on you, then went to bed.”
She turns the stove off and angles her small self in front of the frying pan. As if I couldn’t smell all that animal fat she has going on behind her. “You should have told me you were here.”
“Sure, okay. Did you want me to wake you up? I didn’t realize I couldn’t stay over without asking?” It’s not like I haven’t done it a trillion times before.
“No, that’s fine. I just wish I’d known.”
I make my way over to the refrigerator to see if there’s any juice, her gaze following me the entire way. There’s some pomegranate juice so I take it out to pour myself a glass. “Do you want some?”
“Yes, sure. Thank you.” She covers the skillet and bread with one of the hand towels hanging from the oven handle. Does she really think I don’t know what’s going on here?
“Mama, let’s just get this over with? You know full good-and-well you’re not supposed to have any of that behind you.”
She has the nerve to look offended, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips, putting her hands on her hips.
“No, no, no, Lillie. Don’t even try it. It’s almost like you don’t want to feel well. Your biggest enemy right now is food that’s terrible for you.”
“That’s Mama to you. You’ll never be that grown.” She turns around, balancing her hands on the counter. “I can’t just give up all the food I’ve grown up with overnight, Rowan. You don’t understand. And with everything going on with the restaurant, it’s a comfort.”
I walk over to her and hug her from behind, my five-nine frame engulfing her petite self. “You’re right, Mama, I can’t imagine what that’s like. But you’ve been so sick lately, and the doctor has done everything for you, medication-wise. You have to meet her halfway and take care of your diet.”
She slumps in my arms and shakes her head. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’ll do better.”
I step back and assess her as she turns toward me again. “Are you feeling a little better? You don’t look as tired.”
She shrugs and grabs the juice I poured her off the counter, moving to the kitchen table. “I always have more energy in the mornings.”
I sit next to her at the table. “I have news. We were accepted back in the competition.”
Her face is blank at first before she smiles and her eyes light up. “How?”
“The Ortiz family dropped out for ‘personal reasons’ and that’s all I know. I’m just trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Know what I mean?”
She nods and takes another sip of her juice, frowning at the sour taste. “That’s next week though, right?”
“It is. And they’re coming to the restaurant Sunday for B-roll footage. They’re already going to be in town for the Everhearts on Saturday.”
She makes to stand but is slow in getting up. “I better get myself together.”
I put my hand over hers and coax her to look at me. “I’m going to see if Hannah can substitute for you, Mama. You’re not well, and I can’t tax your body even more in good faith.”
She snatches her hand away. “It’s not your decision. It’s mine and I’m going. I’m not an invalid.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I breathe through it. “You can’t. Why are you being so stubborn? Had I known you’d react like this, I wouldn’t have even told you.” The truth is, I was dreading telling her knowing this is exactly how she would react.
“This is my restaurant, Rowan. I call the shots. Not you.”
Whelp, she may as well have slapped me. That surely would have stung less. She’s not lying though. We both know she calls the shots and that’s how it’ll always be. That’s exactly why even if we win a new place, I’m going out on my own. I’ll never be more than this under Mama’s wing. Sad, but true.
“I know that. But you’re not doing the competition so you may as well get used to the idea. I’ll drop out before I let you ruin your health over it.”
I get up and gather my purse and head out the door. I mean what I said and she can stew in it awhile. I regret putting stress on her, but she can’t go.
*
The last time I’ve spoken with Mama was when I left her house a few days ago. I pick up the phone and call her once again. When her voicemail comes on, I leave a message at the beep: “Mama, this is ridiculous. I know you’re upset and we both said some things, but you need to call me.” We’ve never gone this long without speaking to one another but I’m not surprised. Wyatt’s been over and talked with her. She will only answer my call if I’ve changed my mind, which I definitely haven’t.
There’s some good news at least. Hannah’s in. Technically I don’t actually work at the restaurant anymore but that’s not really official so we’re all set.
The bad news is that I have to see Knox again. It doesn’t matter that he tried to get in touch when we were kicked out. He was a smug asshat the last time I saw him after years of being a smug asshat. He hadn’t changed and that was disappointing. Even more so is that now that we’re back in the competition, he’ll be looking down that straight nose of his even more. We won’t be on equal footing, because the only reason we’re in the finals is because the winning family dropped out. It’ll just reaffirm his belief that I overheard all those years ago—I’m some sort of charity case.
Still. I’m curious. I don’t want to, but I can’t help myself. I find myself in my car speeding toward downtown to witness the filming at their restaurant. I want to get an idea of what to expect tomorrow when the film crew comes to Smothered in Love.
And if I’m being honest with myself—and we’ve already established that’s a must—I’ve missed seeing Knox’s arrogant face. There, I’ve admitted it to myself. It doesn’t change anything. I’d never pursue these feelings because of the whole asshat thing, but I don’t mind ogling that fine ass from behind a pillar somewhere. As long as he doesn’t see me, and he shouldn’t because he’ll be in the kitchen, we should be fine. When he came to our place, I would have never known he was in the restaurant had he not asked for me.
I’ve never actually been inside Everheart Bar and Fine Dining. When I drive up and enter the parking lot, I spot the valet, but speed past and find my own spot. Of course they have valet service.
Now that I’ve come this far, I’m not certain how to proceed. I get out and wipe my sweaty palms on my sundress. It’s an understated beige with a sweetheart neckline and short-sleeved thin jacket. I don’t want to stand out, and I’m hoping this outfit will blend in. I suppose I could just eat lunch, but then I run
the risk of being in the background when the film is played during the show. I’m not sure how that would go over. Spying much? Maybe I’ll ask for a table and skirt off to the bathroom, then lurk around until I’ve got my eyeful. No, that won’t work. They’ll be looking for me at the table. Ugh, why didn’t I think this through?
When I step through the door, I sidle up to the host stand. “Hi, may I have a table for one please?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s about a fifteen-minute wait. Is that okay?”
It’s pretty packed for lunch so I’m glad that’s all I’ll need to wait. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“May I have your phone number so we can alert you when your table is ready?”
Oh fuck. I hadn’t thought of this. We don’t have a fancy paging system, and it didn’t occur to me that I’d need to give my phone number. That means a record that I was here. I can’t give a fake number because then I won’t know when my table’s ready. But if I give my real number…
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, yes, sorry.” I give him my phone number because what else can I do? I really didn’t think this out.
There are plush leather seats near the front as well as an entry bar so I decide to hop up on one of the stools and do a little light day-drinking to get my nerves back together. The chair’s leather is cold against my bare legs and I curse myself for the dress being so short. I should have worn a maxi. Do I own a maxi? The thing is, I don’t actually have too many nice clothes—they’re all work-related or yoga pants basically. Clearly Knox has done a much better job supplementing his wardrobe since we left school—supple leather you want to run your fingers over and richly colored sweaters hugging muscles. Humph.
While I wait for my glass of wine, I use the time to scan the room. I spot the camera crew in a private room near the back of the restaurant. Looks like there are three private rooms and they have the smallest. That’s not really saying anything because the room can probably hold at least thirty people. Everything here is all dark paneling, leather, and glass. Rich and fancy. The kitchen isn’t closed off like ours. It’s there for everyone to see. Weston is plating what looks like a piece of cake. Although the longer I stare, the more it looks like trifle. There’s an open wood fire hearth taking up an entire short wall with different cuts of meat hanging from hooks. I spot Declan just as he takes a large steak from the fire and finishes it on a grill for a reverse sear. Oh em gee, I love it.