Chapter 15
Evelyn
The valet brought Parker’s car around and opened the door, waiting for me to get seated. I murmured my gratitude and buckled myself in as Parker climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled away.
“So, what exactly did I just agree to?” I shifted in my seat as my anxiety kicked in.
“Delaney Legacy Foundation will be hosting a charity gala for unhoused children. My dad plans to announce that he’ll be running for mayor.
When he agreed to let us stay at the house, one of the stipulations was that I attend the gala, present a united front with the family, and play by his rules.
My dad will probably make a charismatic speech and schmooze all night.
” He paused, then rolled his neck like the mere thought of the gala has him stressed already.
“You won’t have to do anything but enjoy yourself, eat, and dance if you like.
I, on the other hand, will be expected to shake hands with all the townspeople and smile until my face is sore.
We’ll be bringing our security team, so there will be extra eyes on us, and the venue will be completely secured. ”
When I didn’t respond right away, he glanced over at me. I tried not to let my face reveal too much of what I was thinking.
This wasn’t my world. I couldn’t imagine I would have anything in common with the people there.
“I won’t leave you by yourself for too long if I can help it,” he said, as if he’s reading my mind.
“Well, I hope not. You wouldn’t be a very good date if you did.” The words slipped out before I realized what I’ve just said. My cheeks turned hot, and I quickly turned to face the window, pretending to be checking out the scenery.
I saw Parker’s dimple make an appearance out of the corner of my eye, and now I was sure he could see the blush staining my cheeks.
“You’re right, and I wouldn’t want you to think I’m not a perfect gentleman. At least most of the time,” He said in a playful tone, throwing me a wink.
Refusing to stick my foot in my mouth again, I asked another question.
“What am I supposed to wear? I’ve never attended a Black Tie event.” The twins left a ton of clothing in the closets for me. I hadn’t gotten around to looking through everything, but there had to be something I could wear in there.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Ev. I’ll take care of the attire, and you just have to show up. I’ll work on the details while you work on your list.”
“But—” I started, but Parker interrupted.
“All you need to do is relax and think about how you'd like to spend your time here. However long that may be. Make the list. Leave the other stuff to me.”
I huffed in response. Telling someone they shouldn’t worry never stopped them from worrying. If anything, it only made them worry more.
As if on cue, my stomach rumbled loudly.
Just great.
I was just doomed to embarrass myself in front of this man.
Parker tried to cover his laugh with a cough and failed. “How do you feel about soul food?”
“I’ve never had it,” I said with a shrug as I watched his face morph into shock. “What?”
“I’m just waiting for you to say sike. You’re telling me you’re from one of the most diverse states in the United States and you’ve never had soul food?”
We were stopped at a light, and his eyebrows were practically touching his hairline—you would’ve thought I told him I believed Santa Claus was real.
“Are you always this dramatic, Parker Woods?” I asked, raising an eyebrow of my own.
He threw his head back and barked out a laugh. “I guess you’ll just have to get to know me some more and find out.”
We drove for another fifteen minutes before turning off onto a dirt road. There was a wooden signpost on the side of the road that read in navy blue and gold, “Odette’s Soul Food Kitchen.”
I was surprised to see an old Victorian house with a row of cars parked in front of it when we reached the end.
There were string lights strung from the side of the house, illuminating a seating area equipped with wooden picnic tables.
Lights were on throughout the house, and I could see people shuffling in and out, some with food and others with drinks.
Parker pulled into an open spot, and we exited the car. The sound of smooth Jazz filled the air between the chatter of the large lunch crowd. I followed Parker up the gravel pathway to the front door.
“As I live and breathe. Robert, tell me my eyes aren’t deceiving me. Is that the Woods’ boy in my doorway?” A woman bellowed out with the most southern twang I had heard since I arrived.
Parker’s large frame was blocking my view, so I couldn’t see where the voice came from.
“Mrs. Johnson, it’s so good to see you,” he responded as we stepped through the doorway.
Parker headed straight toward a short, older Black woman with her silver hair braided into a crown, wearing a blue polka-dot dress with a white apron tied around her waist. Her arms were open, ready to greet him. She was so small that her feet almost left the floor when Parker embraced her.
Mrs. Johnson used the hand towel from her apron pocket to flick it at Parker.
“I told you to follow your dreams, not to forget where you came from, boy.”
“I could never forget Oakland Ridge or you, ma’am. I want to introduce you to someone.” He said, angling his body towards me.
“Now, who is this gorgeous girl?” she said as she lowered her glasses from the top of her head and propped them on her face.
“Willow Norris, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” I said as I reached out my hand to shake hers. Mrs. Johnson surprised me by wrapping her arms around me instead, as if we were old friends.
“You too, sugar. I’m Mrs. Odette Johnson. I hope you both are hungry.”
Mrs. Johnson called out to a woman named Beverly, and another short Black woman, her hair tied up in a multicolored scarf, came out of a swinging door.
“Yes, Ma’am,” she said, holding a carafe of coffee.
“Please show my friends out to a table.”
Beverly ushered us outside and brought us to an open table in the middle of the area, handing us a set of menus.
I stare at the menu, looking over all the dishes. There are so many options to choose from: collard greens, chicken and dumplings, BBQ ribs. I wasn’t sure where to start. When I looked up, Parker wasn’t looking at the menu. He was staring at me.
“There’s a lot to choose from. What do you recommend?” He set his elbows on the table, leaning toward me with his dimples on display.
“Do you trust me?”
His tone was playful, but I couldn’t help but acknowledge that I was beginning to trust him. Maybe because I was left with no choice and I’d rather trust a stranger than watch my friends get hurt. Maybe it was the kindness I saw in his eyes. Whatever the case, I indulged him because it felt right.
“I do,” I said, holding his stare, his smile grew.
“Do you mind if I order for us? I figured we could get a few things, whatever we don’t finish, we can take back to the house.”
He looked excited at the chance to order for us, so I decided to give him free rein.
“That sounds like a great idea. Everything looks really good. I don’t think I could decide.”
Parker turned around and signaled to Beverly, who was leaving another table.
She pulled out a notepad and untucked the pen from behind her ear.
“What will it be?”
“We’ll take the catfish dinner, BBQ chops, smothered turkey wings, skillet potatoes, green beans, baked macaroni and cheese, and two sweet teas.”
My eyes were wide by the time he finished placing the order.
“Was that too much?” He asked sheepishly.
All I could do was shake my head. I was starving, and by the look of food on everyone’s plate, I knew I was in for a treat. Everything looked delicious. The smell of spices and oil wafted from the door leading to the house. I could almost taste the flavors on my tongue.
This wasn’t the type of place I imagined Parker dining at. It was so informal, with the food served on aluminum trays and in black plastic baskets. Recalling his conversation with Mrs. Johnson earlier made me curious about his life here.
“What’s the story with Mrs. Johnson?”
His smile dimmed but remained on his face. The change in his demeanor left me feeling awkward. It was subtle, but I noticed.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I rushed out, trying to revive the happy mood that seemed to dissipate with my question.
“Nah, it’s all good! It’s kind of a funny story, actually.
I was seventeen, and my dad had been telling me all school year that when summer came, I’d be interning at Gentry.
I hated the idea. The older I got, the more I realized I didn’t want to follow my father’s footsteps in the family business.
He thought I was lazy and I didn’t want to work.
” Shrugging, he continued, “I just didn’t have the guts to tell him the truth. ”
“So what did you do?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me again.
“I lied and told him I already had a job lined up for the summer. He was shocked, and I knew right away he didn’t believe me.
But I couldn’t get caught in the lie, so I looked just about everywhere in town for someone to hire me.
Just when I was about to give up, I heard about an old woman who needed a busboy for her restaurant.
I drove over here and begged Mrs. Odette to give me the job, and she did. ”
“You really got lucky. Was your dad disappointed?”
This time, he didn’t try to mask the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
“That’s one way to put it,” he muttered. “I think that’s when he started changing.”
He said the last part more to himself than to me. I wondered what he meant, but it felt like I had already overstepped enough. We both had our secrets and our reasons. I wouldn’t push him to tell me either.
“My senior year, I asked Mrs. Odette if I could come back for the summer, and she said yes. My parents…my dad had plans for me. But I decided to listen to the wise words of Mrs. Odette and follow my dreams.”