Chapter Nine My First Visit to Donut Den
I’m still a little shocked that Noah agreed to go to Jason’s party, and I’m quite positive that he’ll back out at some point between now and Saturday.
But I still tell him everything I know about the event while we keep weeding.
Well, almost everything. I don’t mention that Jason’s going to announce that he’s running for mayor, because I promised Jason I wouldn’t tell anyone.
“My mom says it’s semiformal, not that I know what that means for a country club.
Her wedding was there, but I wore a fancy lehenga to the wedding.
That’s an Indian outfit. I’m getting a dress.
I guess semiformal for guys is a nice shirt?
I can try to get you one if you don’t have any.
I mean, you’re doing this favor for me, so I don’t want to put you out or anything.
” I frown. Can I ask Mom to add a men’s shirt to our shopping list?
“Wouldn’t I be a better terrible date if I dressed like this?” He’s wearing black jeans and a T-shirt again. Today’s is a green Sonic Youth one. I wonder if he buys these shirts at vintage stores. I should ask him if there are any in town.
I like how Noah looks in his band shirts, and I get why he listed them as something important to him.
They’re soft and worn, so they hang perfectly off his square shoulders.
And the short sleeves show off his strong, tanned arms and his spiderweb tattoo.
I honestly can’t imagine what he would look like in formal clothes.
Or even semiformal. There’s no way he would look as good as he does in his old T-shirts.
I sigh. I need to stop lusting after this guy. I never thought I would ever be into the bad-boy look, but here we are. The curse is potent.
I plunge the weed puller into another weed. “Good point.” I’m such a rule-follower. It truly never occurred to me to not follow the dress code. “But then again, maybe they won’t let you in if you don’t follow the dress code?”
“Okay. I have a dress shirt.” There is a small mischievous smile on his face. “But I can edge it all up a little. Studded belt? I can put jewelry in all my piercings?”
I turn to him, eyes wide. “You have more piercings?”
He nods. “Yeah. My ears, and my septum. I used to get a new hole in my face every time I got frustrated with living in this town. It ended up being… a lot.”
I wonder if he wears eyebrow rings because he knows he has the most expressive eyebrows in the world. Girl! Get a grip! I cough. “I wanted to get a septum ring last year, but I chickened out,” I say. I love the look, but I was worried that it would affect my chances of getting internships.
“But you still got the nostril piercing?” he asks.
I nod, my hand going to the small silver ball in my nose.
“Yeah, because nostril piercings are Indian, so it’s culturally appropriate for a professional to have one.
” Noah frowns, saying nothing. “Are you offended that I’m only asking you to come because I think my parents won’t think you’re good enough for me? ”
He chuckles, shaking his head slowly. “Nah. I already know that the LeClairs don’t think a Jacobs is good enough for one of their own.”
I suddenly wince. I’m an idiot. Noah said his father works in the plant, and that he himself might work there in September.
He should not be upsetting his dad’s boss, or his future boss, should he?
“Aren’t you afraid of, you know, angering the LeClairs?
Your dad works in the plant. And you said you might work there in September. ”
Noah laughs again. “What are they going to do? Fire Dad because his son has a tattoo? The union would love that. Dad’s untouchable at the plant anyway.
” He pauses for a moment. “And if they decide they don’t want me in September, then so be it.
There are other places to get work. I’ll run it by Dad anyway, but I suspect he’ll love this idea as much as I do. This is going to be fun.”
Why would his dad love this idea? I clench my fist on the weeding tool, pushing down my nerves. I hope I’m not making an enormous mistake because of the curse again.
It should be fine. The curse might be the reason I have a bit of a (okay, a lot of a) crush on Noah, but it’s not why I asked him to be my pretend date.
I’m just willing to do whatever I need to do to get sent home.
Sadie and Liv pick me up from the park again.
“What did Noah say?” Sadie asks the moment I slide into the back seat.
“No!” Liv immediately exclaims. “Don’t tell us yet. I can’t concentrate on Meera while I’m driving. Let’s go for coffee.”
“Works for me,” I say.
“We can’t go to The Brewberry,” Sadie says. “Kaitlyn and Reagan are there, and I assume you don’t want to tell them. Donut Den?”
“Yes!” Liv says, turning left before the bridge. “I’ve been craving an apple fritter for a week.”
With a name like Donut Den, I expect one of those old-fashioned donut shops, like a non-chain Tim Hortons.
So I’m quite shocked when instead we walk into a dark pub, complete with red velvet booths and a little stage on one side.
It looks like it hasn’t been renovated in twenty-five years. “Um… this is a donut shop?”
“Yep,” Sadie says, heading to a booth. “Coffee, donuts, and sandwiches before six; beer, nachos, and burgers after six. Donut Den is a Cherrybridge institution. Their apple fritters are the best in Ontario.”
When a young waitress comes to take our order, I get a coffee and an apple fritter.
“This place is weird,” I say, after closing the menu. “I can’t believe you’re allowed to hang out here.”
Sadie laughs. “Only before dark! Dad says it used to be a bar only, but when the only coffee shop south of the river closed, they changed the name and started serving donuts and coffee. Now there’s a Tim Hortons down the street, but this place is still super popular.”
“Their donuts are way better than anywhere else in town,” Liv adds.
The waitress comes with our coffee and donuts, and as soon as she’s gone, I take a bite of the apple fritter.
It’s amazing. The thinnest sugar glaze over crispy cinnamon-scented fried dough dotted with sweet caramelized apples.
Keeley would love this place; she loves quirky hole-in-the-wall restaurants.
I use my phone to snap a picture of my donut with a bite out of it with the brown mug of coffee.
“Okay, spill,” Liv says. “Did you ask Noah to the party?”
“Yep, and he said yes. Very little convincing needed.”
Sadie laughs. “Wow. I can’t believe he agreed.”
“Of course he’d agree,” Liv says. “Meera’s a babe. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with her?”
I shake my head and make a face. “Thank you, but fake date. I told him exactly why I asked—to upset Mom and Jason enough that they’ll send me home.”
“And he’s okay with that?” Sadie asks.
“Once he heard who my parents are, he was all over the idea.” I take a sip of the coffee, and it tastes burnt. I put the mug back down. “Hey, why do you think Noah was excited to upset Jason? Do people in this town hate the LeClairs?”
Sadie shrugs, but she doesn’t seem offended by the question, and she’s a LeClair too. But I’m not talking about everyone in town hating the LeClairs, just people south of the river hating them, and I don’t think Sadie realizes that.
“Uncle Jason doesn’t have any public scandals that I know about,” Sadie says. “He’s politically pretty liberal, and a lot of people don’t like that. Maybe that’s why?”
“Or people who work in the plant don’t like the LeClairs because they’re the bosses,” Liv says.
I suppose. Noah said his father is a supervisor; I would think supervisors wouldn’t be going around publicly hating the owners. I turn to Sadie, remembering something. “Didn’t you say that the grown woman Noah supposedly went out with works at a donut shop? Was it this donut shop?”
Sadie glances around. “Yeah. I don’t see her, though. She’s really pretty.”
“Maybe she’s friends with Noah’s mother?” I suggest.
“Could be,” Liv says. “I know that the waitress is from the Philippines. Where is Noah’s mother from?”
I shrug. “All I know about her is that she lives in Toronto.” I shoot Sadie a look. “She didn’t die of an overdose like you thought. All the stuff you heard about him, like that he deals drugs and stuff—are you positive they were talking about Noah and not his brother?”
“I don’t know,” Sadie says, shrugging. “Could be his brother.”
Liv nods slowly as if the difference is just becoming clear to her. “Yeah, Aaron’s the drug addict. Noah’s the musician.”
That matches with what Noah told me. “He plays the guitar. Did you know his dad was a musician too?”
Sadie shrugs again. “No.”
I sigh. It’s clear that these two, despite telling me all those rumors about him the other day, don’t really know anything about Noah. Or any of the Jacobses.
“You really shouldn’t speculate about people you don’t know,” I say. I try not to sound too scolding, because these are new friends after all, but it just doesn’t sit right with me that they were saying all that stuff about Noah’s family to me— someone they barely know and who’s new in town.
Liv looks contrite and puts her mug on the table before looking me in the eye. “You’re absolutely right. Sorry, Meera.”
Sadie nods along. She looks a little guilty but manages to meet my eye too. “Yeah. No more gossip about people we don’t know.” Her eyes flit to the other side of the bar. “Except for this one last time—because that’s the waitress we were talking about behind the counter.”
I turn to look. The woman there is super pretty, like Sadie said, but seems kind of tired. Long shift, maybe. I’d guess she’s in her late twenties to thirties.
At that moment a loud fight breaks out at the other side of the restaurant. Followed by swearing and someone pounding on a table. Staff rush over to break it up.
“We should leave soon,” Liv says. “This place can get pretty rough; we won’t want to be here if a fight breaks out.”
I shrug. I’m not worried. I grew up in Toronto; I can handle a little argument in a coffee shop. Or bar. Or whatever this place is. Just like Cherrybridge itself, it’s a little hard to figure out.
I video-call Keeley and Adanna after Liv drops me home, because I need to tell my best friends about this plan. And I’m a little surprised that they think my idea is ridiculous.
“This is going to blow up in your face, Meera,” Adanna warns.
“It won’t,” I say. “It will work. I’ll be home on Sunday. Monday at the latest.”
My friends look skeptical. “I think this Noah guy is into you,” Keeley says. “That’s really why he agreed.”
“Maybe before, but definitely not now that he knows who my stepfather is. This town is weird. I get the impression that kids south of the river wouldn’t date kids north of the river.”
Adanna shrugs. “It kind of makes sense,” she says. “Class differences are a huge societal divide. You’re literally living in different worlds.”
“But Noah and I aren’t really from different worlds. We were both raised by single parents who struggled financially. Both our mothers are nurses. We’re more the same than different.”
“What does your mom think about you bringing a boy to Jason’s party?” Keeley asks.
“I’m not telling her.” My friends raise their eyebrows at the same time, making me laugh.
“I’m not breaking any of her rules. They said I could bring someone, and no one said I needed approval for who that person is.
” I smile. “I can’t wait to see Jason’s face when he realizes I brought one of the notorious Jacobs brothers. ”
“Maybe he won’t care,” Adanna says. “Send pics, though. I want to see what your bad boy looks like.”
“Of course. I’ll show you the pics in person on Sunday.”
“It’s too bad you won’t be here Saturday,” Keeley says. “We’re going to the art gallery!”
They talk excitedly about their Saturday plans to see an exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario, and then lunch in Chinatown.
I hate that I’m missing it. I’d much rather be eating dumplings with my friends than be at the country club.
When I’m with my Toronto friends, I feel like I can just be me.
Not the criminal me, or the rich-kid me.
The real Meera, who doesn’t seem to really fit anywhere in Cherrybridge.
Nani video-calls me after dinner. After she tells me about her new book club and about how her job as an admin at a bank is going, she asks me if Mom and I are having a lot of quality time in Cherrybridge.
“Not really. I’m at the park every day, and she’s taking tennis and golf lessons. I haven’t seen her much—except at dinner.” When she has to play the perfect housewife every night, apparently.
“You should take tennis lessons too! It’s good to try new things.”
“I’m doing physical work at the park every day. I do not have the energy for tennis, Nani.”
She gives me a shrewd look. “You are staying out of trouble, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course.” I pause and take a breath. “Hey, Nani, if Mom’s okay with it, I can still come and live with you this summer, right?” It feels weird not to tell her about my plan to get sent home, but I don’t want her to tell Mom. I’m really not used to lying to Nani or Mom.
“Meera, your mother wants you there so she can spend the summer with you. This is your chance to get closer.”
I really doubt that’s going to happen. We haven’t been close for seventeen years. It feels a little too late now. “Okay, but if she changes her mind?”
“Yes. Family is always welcome.” She changes the subject, telling me about how she made biriyani in a pressure cooker the day before yesterday, but Nanabapa didn’t like it, so she gave away the pressure cooker.
I tell her how good I am at pruning trees now, so I can do the ones in her backyard in the fall.
By the time I get off the phone, I’m feeling pretty good. I may be feeling out of place here, but my home, Toronto, is still waiting for me.