Chapter Six Derek #2
David backed into the swinging door of the kitchen, carefully holding Eleanor’s cocktail, with me and a few other fellas trailing behind him, trying not to spill drinks.
We were greeted by a chorus of raucous laughter with Jasmine in the center.
The sight of my fake wife wearing a pink, polka-dotted apron while using two large forks to toss a giant salad and grinning ear to ear stopped me in my tracks.
It wasn’t just because she was beautiful, because she was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
It was her smile. I hadn’t seen that smile since she was seventeen.
It lit up her entire face and made everything else in the room—hell, in the world—a little bit brighter.
It was the kind of smile you’d go to war for.
It was the kind of smile where once you saw it, you’d do anything to keep it on her face.
The laughter died down, and Jasmine’s smile faltered when she realized that I’d been staring at her. Everyone else in the kitchen noticed it, too.
“I remember when you used to look at me like that,” Eleanor said to David before sipping her martini.
“You mean this morning when I caught you coming out of the shower?” he quipped.
The kitchen erupted in gasps and giggles, and Jasmine hit me with a “that was awkward” expression that made me smile as I approached her with her drink. Our fingers briefly touched as she took the drink from my hand. I watched nervously as she took her first sip.
“It’s perfect, as usual.” She smiled and leaned forward to brush her lips across my cheek, and I used the opportunity to inhale her intoxicating scent.
We gazed at each other until David broke the spell with two loud handclaps and a declaration.
“Let’s eat!”
“So, how did you two meet?” Kitanya, Eric’s wife, asked us while we tucked into the salad course. I looked at Jasmine.
“Well”—she took a sip of her wine before continuing—“I’ve known Derek my entire life.”
“Our parents were best friends and business partners, and we grew up together,” I added.
“My entire life, I felt like Derek was the one person I could count on.” She gave me a look of admiration so sincere that she almost fooled me, making my chest swell in response.
“When I was seventeen, my boyfriend broke up with me two days before my senior prom. I was so sure I was gonna spend the night crying and watching Gossip Girl reruns when my mother came into my room and told me to get ready because I was going to the prom.” She turned to me and smiled.
I knew most of this story but not this part.
“Derek rented a tuxedo and drove all the way from Boston to be my date.”
The entire table erupted in a chorus of “aww”s.
“Well, my mother called me and told me about Jasmine’s breakup.” I shrugged. “I already owned a tuxedo, and it was only a four-hour drive. Plus, I needed a break from finals.”
“It was the sweetest gesture. Plus, he made my ex really jealous, and he could buy me and my friends alcohol.”
“Which I didn’t do,” I chimed in, making the table erupt in laughter.
“Sometimes, you don’t have to search all around the world when you realize that everything you needed was right in front of your eyes the whole time.” David brought his wife’s knuckles to his lips for a kiss.
The other couples at the table nodded in agreement, while the teenagers and the younger children rolled their eyes.
“So how did you and David meet, Eleanor?” Jasmine asked to change the subject. “I’m sure it was more interesting than our story.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a sigh.
“It’s your typical story. Boy meets girl in their calculus II class.
Girl turns down boy’s invitation for multiple dates.
Then, next semester, girl finds that boy has registered for all the same classes.
” She shot David a look, and he shrugged with a grin.
“Girl and boy start dating, fall in love, and get married after graduation.”
“She was the prettiest and smartest girl in the whole school. I had to lock that down. Right, Jackson?” David addressed a teenage boy wearing one earbud. “Do the kids still say ‘lock that down’?”
“Yup,” he responded unconvincingly, making Jasmine and me share a chuckle.
“So you were in the same year?” Jasmine raised a curious eyebrow.
“Yes, but that was because I graduated from high school when I was fifteen and got a full scholarship to MIT. We started dating in our third year.”
“See?” David smiled at his wife. “Smartest girl in the school.”
“So how did you end up here,” Jasmine pressed, “in Miller’s Cove?”
“Well, when we were dating, David used to tell me stories about growing up here. It sounded like a fantasy until he brought me home for the first time. We took a long time finishing our educations and traveling the world. David had an excellent career at NASA, and I worked at IBM. We had a great life, but when we finally decided to expand our family, we knew we wanted to do it here. It was never a question.” She gave David a smile that melted my heart, and I could tell it affected Jasmine, too.
“It’s so beautiful, untouched, and idyllic. I just worry about it staying that way for our grandchildren.” David leaned over and kissed her temple.
“My great-grandfather had a very specific vision for Miller’s Cove, and for generations, we’ve fought to keep it from the outside world.”
“You know that’s right,” Jeannie, Bubba’s wife, remarked with a shake of her head.
“Anytime anybody gets something good for themselves, somebody always tries to come around and steal it, and ends up ruining it,” David’s Aunt Minnie seethed.
“People don’t like it when they swoop in with their big bags of money and you don’t bow down to them.
Greedy suckers can’t take no for an answer. ” She shook her head.
Jasmine caught my eye, and my expression must have mirrored hers. Guilt.
“All right, Minnie,” Eleanor chimed in, misreading our expressions. “That’s enough. This dinner is not about that. It’s about celebrating tradition, family, new friends, and love.” She raised her glass.
“Hear, hear,” the table chorused, and we clinked glasses before moving on to the main course.
The table was mostly silent, which was a testament to how delicious the food was.
Jasmine reached for a platter of ribs, and I put my hand out to stop her.
“What?” She drew her hand back and glared at me.
“Don’t eat those,” I whispered, and she gave me another quizzical look. “They’re made with malt, and this food is too good to cut dinner short to take you to the hospital.” I raised an eyebrow at her and bit into a chicken leg for emphasis.
“You remembered that I’m allergic to malt?” Her expression morphed into a curious smile edged with disbelief. It wasn’t the big smile she’d had in the kitchen, but it was close enough to make me want to keep it on her face.
“Of course. You’re my wife, remember?” I waggled my eyebrows at her again. Her eyes narrowed, and the lower half of her face erupted in a grin she tried to suppress—and I couldn’t ignore the warm feeling in my chest. I didn’t want to. It felt too good. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.
“Something about this pie tastes familiar.” Jasmine spoke through a mouthful during dessert. “I can’t identify the fruit, but I know I’ve had it before.” She made the cutest expression of furrowing her brow while she chewed slowly.
“Well, if you’ve had my wife’s cookies, then you’d recognize them.”
“Yes!” Jasmine exclaimed. “These were in the cookies I had that made me want to visit.”
I gave her a quizzical look.
“My parents’ chef—”
“Oh, she’s fancy!” Minnie interjected, presumably fueled by one too many cocktails, eliciting laughs from the younger dinner guests.
“—gets a large batch of those every year from her sister who visits here,” she continued, gracefully ignoring the interruption. “She let me taste them, and I ended up eating a whole bag. Now I remember that they had these really good dried berries in them. It’s what made me want to come here.”
My mind whirred. Jasmine had come by her Miller’s Cove idea honestly, making me regret the way I’d spoken to her in her office and the way I’d treated her since, but not completely.
“What are they?” she continued excitedly. “They’re not raisins. They’re not blueberries. They’re something I’ve never had before.”
“Well, you couldn’t have had them before, because they’re only grown here.”
“You mean they don’t exist anywhere else in the world?”
“Nope,” David said proudly. “They’re called Pike berries. My great-grandfather developed them over a hundred years ago. Took him a while, too. But they’re the pride and joy of Miller’s Cove, and we use them in damn near everything.”
“Lord,” Jeannie said, “don’t get him started. He’ll be rattling off Pike berry recipes like Bubba from Forrest Gump.”
“Pike berry pie, Pike berry wine, Pike berry jam,” Bubba replied with missing a beat. “Pike berry syrup, Pike berry salad, Pike berry punch…”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Kitanya patted his shoulder and rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a chuckle.
“Well, I’d love to know more.” Jasmine leaned forward.
“Well, I’d love to show you.” Eleanor beamed. “Anytime you want.”
“I’m gonna take you up on that.”
“And, Derek, anytime you want come poke around my workshop, my door’s always open.”
“You’re on, Chief,” I replied, unable to suppress the tinge of excitement in my voice.
We left dinner with full bellies, big smiles, plenty of leftovers, and some good bones for Tora to snack on.