Chapter Fourteen
AFTER THE TECHNICOLOR flurry of Mexico City, she had settled back into her routine at work.
Rays of warm sunlight flooded into the Lawsons’ kitchen as Erik typed away on his laptop and Cierra meal-prepped for the upcoming week.
The two quietly worked in a friendly established comfort, occasionally chatting here and there.
On other days similar to this one, Elliot or Zelda would sometimes join, too.
The wide array of summer produce at the farmers' market had helped lift her spirits after her rude awakening with Julian, which she was still processing. There were rows and rows of pearly sweet corn, fleshy watermelon and peaches, and her menu reflected the season’s bounty.
She had even made time to stop by Miriam’s stall, thanking her and showing her which meals the meaty fungi had turned into.
Julian had called since, asking if she wanted to meetup later that week for a date; he’d snagged club seat tickets to a Yankees baseball game.
It had eased her nerves somewhat, knowing that he wasn’t just holding out until they slept together, only to lose interest. Not that she thought he was that kind of guy.
But then again, she didn’t have the best track record of knowing what men were thinking, did she?
Cierra declined, not because she didn’t want to go, but because she’d already committed to a food festival in Queens on the same day — she had even gotten a ticket for him.
She had planned to present it to him as a sort of opening to a new phase in their relationship; some friends usually tagged along.
But their chilly morning-after conversation quickly extinguished that idea.
Swaying to the wistful crooning of Put Your Records On, she shucked corn and hummed along to the melody, occasionally selecting Skittles from a small dish near her prep station while getting lost in the meditative action.
Shuck, discard, skittle, repeat. Next to the corn were cherry tomatoes, displaying various hues of crimson-red and midnight-purple, along with okra.
She’d submerge the okra in a one-second bath of boiling water, before allowing it to cool.
Mixed with fresh basil and roughly cracked salt, it was one of the simplest meals imaginable but tasted like a garden in your mouth.
She sent a quick voice note to Mia, asking what she thought of a “five-ingredient series.” And right after she hit send, a soft chuckle escaped Erik, barely audible over the music and the hum of the computer.
She had nearly forgotten he was there, lost in her lush, summery world.
“What are you laughing at, huh?” she asked jokingly.
“Nothing,” he said. The corners of his mouth curved upward in a subtle smile. “Hey, toss me one of those. I wanna see if I can catch it.”
Squinting her eyes, like a pitcher assessing a player up to bat, she lobbed a lime green piece, which he caught effortlessly and promptly ate.
“What’s your deal with those anyway, you gotta sweet tooth?”
“Something like that. They were my study snack back in college, but now I just have them if I’m working, or stressed, or bored.
Any occasion really.” Gathering the okra, she delicately sliced the tops off, careful not to take off any more than necessary.
“But don’t change the subject, I heard you laugh at my series idea.
” Erik made a confused face. “I know . . . making these videos probably seems so cringe to you.”
He stopped typing for a bit, looking at her with an annoyed expression.
“I’m not judging you, Chef Cierra,” he said with a smirk.
“I made that noise because of how you looked working just now. It’s like watching a beaver build a dam, or a painter lost in their art.
And with the videos, isn’t social media the way?
You leaning into it seems like a good thing.
You’re trying something new. It’s admirable. ”
“Oh,” she replied. “Well, I’m still getting used to it. Never thought I’d be one of the ‘influencing’ types.”
“Isn’t it doing well?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then who cares? Your videos are fun. I know I love watching them. What’s the issue?”
Steam began shooting out of the covered pot of boiling water, signaling the tiny okras were ready for their bath.
As she poured in the oblong-shaped veggies, she asked herself the same question.
As if it were last night, she could recall that patronizing pout on Melanie’s face at Amber’s birthday party.
“Well, Erik,” she said, “I guess not everyone is as supportive as you.”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“Most of my friends, I mean, they’re supportive of me. It’s just, they’re like, actual professionals? Even my best friend, Mia, owns her own home. They’re already talking about mortgages and prenups, and then I talk about my TikToks . . . do you see what I’m saying?”
“I do.”
“I mean, I love my job.”
“Of course.”
“But sometimes I wonder if I’m not as ahead as I should be?”
“Hey, I get it. A few years ago, that’s all I thought about.”
“Really?” The thought of Erik — cool, collected, easy-going — experiencing anything like the self-doubt she was going through came as a surprise. “What happened?”
“What happened? I was miserable at my job. I went out, like, a lot. But I thought being an adult was just hating your job, going out to forget about it, and then repeating that process until you died. ” He halted, as if thinking about how much he should say next.
“Anyways, I got really burnt out and ended up getting fired. It sucked, and I had to make a lot of life changes, but, I really like what I do now. The act of taking something old and restoring it to new makes me feel like I’m contributing something.
” He shook his head, seeming unsure of his words.
“Beats pricing families out of neighborhoods they’ve lived in their entire lives. ”
Cierra was a little shocked. Erik’s relaxed, cheeky demeanor sounded nothing like the version of himself he was telling her about. “That sounds like it must have been a pretty serious shift.”
“It was, for sure. But what else was I gonna do? Keep doing something I knew wasn’t right for me?” he said with a shrug, getting absorbed back in his laptop.
She didn’t know where to go from there and opted to change the subject. “So, are you doing anything tonight? How’s Nadine doing?”
“I don’t think so. I have this project in Brooklyn that’s taking all my attention right now. And I’m not sure if . . .” He turned his head, distracted. “Sorry, are those just raw vegetables in a bowl?” he said, pointing to the glass Pyrex containing her summer salad.
“Um, it’s not just veggies in a bowl. It’s good, here, try it.
” She handed him a scoop of the mixture; his hazel eyes attentively followed her movements as she carried the spoon over.
They both laughed awkwardly as Erik took the concoction from her, as she was close enough to spoon-feed him.
Cierra gloated as his face gave away how delicious he found it.
“What is this? I feel like I’ve never eaten corn before.” He took another bite. “Have you ever seen the corn kid?”
Cierra giggled. “Of course, and trust me, this recipe’s got the juice. Everything’s farm fresh.”
Erik looked at her with enormous eyes while chowing down. “Damn.”
“See, this is what I love about cooking in the summer. The real trick to flavor is letting the ingredients do the work for you. Sometimes, all you need is to bring out what’s already there.”
Saturday ended up being the hottest day that summer.
The sun beat down so hard, Cierra could see spots where the tar-black pavement was melting.
Waves of swirling hot air distorted vision, adding to the sense of a fever dream.
On her way to the festival, Cierra sweated through her tank top and tried her best to mask a stain under her butt with her cross-body bag.
Why did I wear cotton khakis? she lamented.
Her crew was equally miserable when she found them at their meeting point. Lisa leaned against Jess and blotted her reddish cheeks, while Mia stood slack-faced with an electric fan pointing downward into her shirt. “How close is he again?” Mia whined.
“His ETA says two minutes. I think he was only one train behind me,” Cierra replied.
“If Erik’s not here by then, I’m killing him.” Mia had now started fanning the back of her neck, her silky-smooth hair still looking like a fresh blow-out.
“Why is Erik coming again? Isn’t he your boss or something? I thought Julian was coming,” Lisa asked.
“Erik’s not my boss, he’s her brother-in-law. He’s cool, though. Julian, uh, couldn’t make it. So I gave it to him and his girlfriend.”
“So like a boss-in-law,” Mia said lazily, already puffing away with her weed vape.
“Hmm,” Lisa pondered. “You’re really getting close to this family, huh? I guess that’s good. You practically live with them anyway.”
Not wanting Julian’s ticket to go to waste, or to divulge her dating life to her sister, she’d reached out to Erik to see if he and Nadine wanted to join, remembering how much fun they’d all had together in Mexico City.
Erik was one of those people you could throw into any social situation, and part of her wanted to make amends with Nadine, show her that there was nothing to be jealous of.
Besides, more people always made the food festival experience better.
Cierra spotted Erik, alone, on the train platform and waved to him from below.
Mia squinted, leaning into her ear and whispering, “I’m sorry, that’s who you’re working with all day?”
“Yes. Please behave.” Mia sucked her teeth.
As he walked closer, Cierra gave him a quick hug before turning to introduce him to the group. “Where’s Nadine? Is she still coming?”
“She got tied up with work. Just me today, unfortunately.”
Erik waved to the small group of interested faces, and everyone took turns introducing themselves.
The group then purchased ice-cold Gatorades from a nearby stand and bravely ventured into the labyrinth of food stalls, each one showcasing unique global culinary creations.
Erik trailed behind Mia and Cierra as they made their way toward the Viet-fusion food stand, while Lisa and Jess headed toward the Korean corn dogs.
“So, you’re the Mia,” Erik said, eliciting a skeptical glance from the woman herself. “Nice to finally meet you. I heard you’re the reason behind Cierra’s social media fame.”
“I hope she wasn’t spreading rumors about me,” Mia teased, which made Cierra roll her eyes, but she was happy to see her friends getting along. “Have you been to Queens before?” Mia asked.
“Not this part, no, but I’ve always wanted to. This event is insane. Too bad Julian couldn’t make it. He’s seriously missing out,” he said.
“I’m starting to doubt this guy exists,” Mia added, taking another drag from her weed pen (she insisted it was to help her appetite).
Cierra shook her head in exasperation. “Mia! You’ve met him before. Remember the tiki bar?”
“Oh, God.” Mia face-palmed, shaking her head. “Sorry, it’s this thing,” she said, looking at the slim vape in her hand. “I’m trying to drink less.”
“Besides, we’re not that serious yet. Just enjoying each other’s company and seeing where things go.”
“Ohh, so it’s more of a situationship. Gotcha,” Mia said absent-mindedly.
Something about that word stung, but at this stage, Cierra didn’t know if she had any evidence to the contrary. “Yeah, I guess so,” she replied weakly.
“Is that what you want?” Erik asked.
“What an excellent question, Erik,” Mia chimed in. Cierra shot her a dirty look. “Sorry,” Mia muttered.
“Because you definitely deserve something more, if that’s what you’re looking for. Just saying.”
“Ah-greed,” Mia replied.
“Mind if I get a hit?” Erik asked her.
“By all means,” she said, slipping the slim metallic vape into his hands.
“Oh, shit,” Cierra remarked, surprised at how easily he got along with her friend.
“Right now, I’m just a simple man who wants to eat his body weight in bánh mì tacos,” he said, exhaling a thin cloud into the heat.
Fair enough, she thought.
“You need to bring him around more often,” Mia said, eyes focused on Erik.