25. EPILOGUE
Zuri
Abuzz with chatter and activity, the café is now as real as my engagement. I stand back, savoring the unreal sensation as people walk in or out, food bags in hand, my café logo displayed on the reusable bags.
Despite my reluctance to broadcast the opening on social media, the little I mentioned on my blog has drawn a surprising crowd, enough to escalate my heart rate as I weave between tables, ensuring every guest feels welcomed.
I steer clear of the cash register, given my desire to be everywhere at once, and instead, walk to a table close to the door where a middle-aged couple hovers by the entrance. In a navy pantsuit, she checks behind the door, perhaps reading the sign. They might be looking for an office in the building.
“Hello.” I give a little wave, and they look at me. “Are you here to have lunch?”
The woman brandishes a flyer. “Is this Zuri’s Daylight Café?”
“Yes, it is.” Smiling, I introduce myself as the owner.
The man gestures toward the paper, then nudges his charcoal jacket aside to tuck his hands into the pockets of his tan pants. He rocks back on his heels as he cranes around. “My wife and I own Local Lens, a media company for small business owners.”
The woman steps forward. “The COO of Stone Financial Enterprises dedicated his March financial advice column, which usually focuses on debt management and financial planning, to talk about this café instead. We’d like to schedule a time to talk about your café and your cookbook.”
Stone Financial’s COO. Jer. I grin.
“Jeremy Kress often leads free workshops and seminars on financial wellness. He’s a great supporter of local entrepreneurs and innovators,” she explains.
“Our media company wouldn’t be in business if it weren’t for him,” the man chimes in.
“He supports small businesses?” This newfound aspect of the man I’ve grown so fond of further captivates me.
Listening to the couple recount the annual challenges and competitions Jeremy organizes in partnership with their media company—offering funding, mentorship, and publicity for entrepreneurs—astounds me. I always knew Jeremy was kind, but his humility kept this detail from me. As my respect and affection further deepen, my chest swells. All this time he’s been silently supporting and rooting for me, even from behind the scenes.
“Thanks for coming.” I welcome them inside and direct them toward the line to take orders. “Once you’ve placed your order and paid, feel free to find a spot to sit.” I glance over the crowd, skeptical of finding an empty seat. “That’s if you’d like to dine in.”
As passionate as I still am about making the café a place for people like Damien and Jeremy to step away from their desks when it’s mealtime, implementing online orders and designated pickup times has been a game-changer. It’s allowed us to efficiently prepare and pack meals, so at least those people who can’t—or won’t—take time out for lunch will be getting good food, not skipping meals.
Thanks to the employees of Stone Financial and other nearby offices, the café has been bustling since ten thirty, even before our official opening time. Opting to open the doors thirty minutes early seemed a kindness rather than letting our eager patrons wait outside. Good thing I’ve planned our regular hours to start at seven a.m.
When I return to the kitchen, Jeremy’s voice rings out, directing Lexi to the cash register. “We can’t keep customers waiting. Use Zee’s phone for the app to process payments.”
“I’m mostly here to take pictures.” Despite her protest, Lexi sets her camera aside on the counter’s far corner and takes my phone from Jeremy to man the register.
Nico calls out for a server to pass him a disposable container, ladles pasta into it, and hands it over. “We have to move fast.”
Wes flips sandwiches on the griddle, and Nina oversees quesadillas, while Damien and Olivia are tasked with the southwest rolls, packaging them as orders come in. Jill monitors the incoming online orders, relaying them as they’re keyed in at the register.
Everyone is unified in their green aprons, adorned with cooking utensils and the café’s name—a thoughtful gift from Jeremy just two days prior.
I search for where I might be of use, but everyone has their responsibilities well in hand.
“Is it slowing down out there?” Smiling, Jeremy passes covered containers toward the counter.
“I heard you’re the reason for the crowd today.” I refer to the couple from Local Lens.
“Don’t believe all the rumors.” He winks, sending a flutter through me.
“It looks like I’ll need to hire two more people.” I whisper to Jeremy, struggling to hide my awe over the café’s popularity.
“You’re not wrong.” Nico calls out from the stove, always alert and observant. “We can’t play hooky and skip work every day.”
“Thank you so much, everyone.” I raise my voice above the clamor, my gratitude enveloping each team member.
“Jeremy left us no choice,” Wes interjects. “But he promised us two hours off early tomorrow for working late tonight.”
Damien, my friends, and Jeremy all took today off to support the café’s bustling opening. Jeremy’s dedication is particularly palpable. He even stayed late last night to assist with the final preparations.
“Let’s hustle, let’s hustle.” He claps his hands and moves around as if born for this role. I assist him in passing the food to the counter as orders flood in, maintaining our rhythm until the pace begins to slow.
We keep moving. I flit between the kitchen and dining area, expressing my gratitude to customers and reminding them to check out coupons on my blog. When the crowd thins and the lunch rush concludes, I breathe out my relief.
Back in the kitchen, I find Lexi tearing open a bag of flour and Olivia fetching a mixer while others clear the counters.
“What’s the flour for?” I arch my brows. “Aren’t you all too tired for more cooking?”
Olivia shrugs. “Jeremy wants us to celebrate the day’s end by making shortbread cookies.”
My gaze shifts to Jeremy, and he presents me with an apron, mirroring those worn by everyone else. I slip the apron over my head and secure it behind me. “Baking it is.”
“No one makes shortbread cookies without you taking charge.” Jeremy guides me toward Lexi and Olivia, who have readied the supplies and mixer. “You and I will mix the ingredients together.”
“We’ll take over once the batter’s ready,” Olivia says while Lexi mentions she’ll capture the moment in photos.
The kitchen’s still abuzz—dishes headed for the sink, trash being discarded, and leftovers being saved and raided. Jeremy and I fall into an easy rhythm, cutting the butter into the sugar and creaming them before combining them with the other ingredients.
“After everyone eats the cookies, maybe we could treat them to dinner this evening? My treat, as a thank you for their help.”
I like how he uses “we” in his sentence. “I could cook dinner at the house instead.”
“I’m not letting you anywhere near a kitchen once we leave the café.” He grins and flicks flour onto my apron.
Memories of our first time in this kitchen flood back, and I smirk at him. “You know you just put flour on my apron.”
“And what are you going to do about it, Miss Blackwood?” His tone warms all my insides. He then scoops up more flour into his palm and blows it onto my face. That smirk and mischievous glint in his eye gives away his intent.
“What’s making cookies without a little food fight?” His smile widens, and I beam back, the excitement infectious.
“Oh, it’s on, Mr. Kress.” Adrenaline mixes with anticipation as I scoop a handful of flour from the mixer and aim for him, but he’s quick to shower me with more flour.
I manage to scatter some onto his sleek hair, laughing as I look for an escape, but with the kitchen bustling, I resort to circling around. And he catches me easily, spinning me into his arms and gazing down at me. His hand caresses my cheek, and my heart starts racing as he tucks a stray curl behind my ear. The kitchen falls into a hushed silence, and I sense all focus on us. But my gaze remains on my prize—Jeremy.
“In this very kitchen, I first fell in love with you.” His voice goes husky, and a deep seriousness replaces his playful demeanor. “You looked beyond the fa?ade I put up and invited me into your world without fear. You saw the real me, beneath my stern exterior. Remember when you covered me in flour during our so-called food wars?”
I nod, my heart thumping in my chest.
“You make the best shortbread cookies there are.”
“You’d better like her cooking now that you’re in love with her!” Jill calls out from the background, but Jeremy’s intense gaze holds mine, making everything else fade away.
“Food is just one of your many passions I admire. But more than that, I admire your confidence and your faith in God.” His confession earnest and his gaze intent, he grips my hands. The vulnerability in his blue eyes touches something deep inside me. “I want to know everything about you, Zee. I want to grow old with you and share in that faith. Maybe you can help me understand God better.”
I nod, tears brimming at his heartfelt words, and my heart thuds. Who could imagine this moment, so sincere and full of love, in this very kitchen where our “fake” romance began?
“I know we’ve done this before.” He releases me to create some space between us, then thrusts his hand into his pants pockets, and pulls something out.
I catch the sparkle of diamonds under the kitchen light, even before it’s fully revealed. This time, it isn’t nestled within a box.
“I could have bought you another ring, but this one—this was always meant for you.” His voice carries a weight of tinged emotions. “Despite my never measuring your ring size, it fits you perfectly. Just like you seamlessly fit into my life… my world.”
His eyes, shimmering under the fluorescent glow, probe mine, and emotions tighten my throat, so raw and sharp it feels like I’ve swallowed shards of glass. Around us, people express their awe with soft oohs and aahs as Jeremy articulates his declaration of love, each word coated with the depth of his feelings.
“Being with you creates a sanctuary of peace, a sense of safety, that makes me feel at home.”
“Oh, Jer.” I manage, my voice trembling. “You better never entertain any doubts about us again. You’re literally my latest obsession. You complete me.”
A smile breaks across his face, his lips parting, perhaps in readiness to echo my sentiment.
“With you, I can share my deepest fears, my highest hopes, and my wildest dreams.” His gaze is tender, his words sincere.
“You make me feel safe,” I add, recalling our initial encounters and how openly I shared my café struggles with him, something I’d never done with anyone else.
“Traitor!” Damien’s playful accusation slices through the thick emotional atmosphere.
Then Jeremy lowers himself to one knee, a posture that heats up the anticipation already sizzling through my body. “Zuri Blackwood, will you marry me for real this time?”
“Yes, Jer, yes.” I breathe out, and tears stream down my face as he slides the ring onto my finger.
The kitchen erupts in applause and laughter.
“How many times do you have to propose to her?” Jill’s voice rises above the celebration, eliciting chuckles from all of us.
“Each time they find something to bicker about,” Nico quips, reminding us of the ups and downs that flavored our relationship, any relationship. “But let’s not forget, you’re the one who brought them together.”
Jeremy stands and draws me into his embrace—warm and comforting as he casts a grateful glance toward our friends. Then he seals our promise with a kiss so tender and profound it gives full testament to the depth of our love. Surrounded by friends in Zuri’s Daylight Café, my heart swells. Here we are. I’m his for keeps, not temporarily, and we get to celebrate a dream achieved through my passion for cooking.
The party I threw to test my recipes brought a recipe for a new future into my life, sprinkling ingredients of love, hope, and uncertainty to season the mix of my daily routine. Had it not been for this passion, I wouldn’t have organized the party nor had a reason to invite Jeremy. Yes, food has the power to unite people, creating bonds that bake into everlasting love.
It’s not just the shared meals. The love and commitment between Jeremy and me also seal our connection. While food can draw people together, love’s the ingredient that ensures they remain a part of each other’s lives forever.