Chapter 7 #3
“The steaks we should leave out so they get to room temperature,” I said. “Also, do you have kosher salt? I want to rub some in before I go out with Tyler.”
“Yes, I think so. Is there a difference between kosher salt and regular salt?”
“Kosher salt has larger, courser flakes, which makes them easier to pinch and control while seasoning. Plus, the big flakes draw out the moisture in the meat effectively.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Okay, well then, I sure hope we have some.”
“We do. It’s in the pantry next to the brown sugar.”
We turned to see Tyler standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and tee, his hair damp from the shower.
“Hey, Tyler,” I said. “You ready for some open road?”
“Beyond ready.” Tyler’s young cheeks flushed pink. “Thanks for making time. And we’re having steaks?”
“I always make time for people I care about. And yes. Ribeyes.”
“My mouth’s watering just thinking about them,” Seraphina said.
“Yeah, that sounds really good.” Tyler stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “You want to go out now?”
“Almost. I’m going to season the steaks first,” I said.
“How do you do it?” Tyler asked.
“I’ll show you. There’s nothing to it.” I unwrapped the steaks and laid them on the cutting board while Tyler watched from the other side of the island. “We want them to reach room temperature before we grill them.”
“I’ll grab the salt,” Tyler said, heading toward the pantry and returning with a box of coarse salt. “Is this good?”
“Perfect. See how coarse it is? You want this, not table salt. Table salt’s too fine—you’ll over-season before you know it.
” I held the container out so he could look at it.
“You season from high up. Like this.” I raised my hand a good ten inches above the steak and let the salt fall in an even shower across the surface.
“The height gives you an even distribution. You’re not dumping it in one spot. ”
Tyler watched with his chin slightly lifted. “Cool. I think I saw that on a Youtube video one time.”
“Do both sides,” I said, flipping the steak. “And don’t be timid about it. A thick cut like this can take more than you think. Under-seasoned steak is a waste of a good piece of meat.” I pushed the salt container toward him. “Do this one.”
He picked it up, held his hand at the right height, and let the salt fall evenly.
“Well done. Now the pepper.” I handed him the grinder. “Crack it fresh. Pre-ground pepper’s got no heat left in it.”
He did as I asked. “Will you show me how to grill them too?”
“You got it. I learned from Wes. He cooks a mean steak.”
“Cool.”
During all of this, Seraphina had watched from a stool at the island, sipping a glass of sparkling water.
“That’s it,” I said. “Want to drive?”
“Yes, please.” Tyler grinned at his mother. “We’ll be back soon, Mom. Don’t burn the house down while we’re gone.”
She swatted him with a dish towel. “Go on now.”
We were laughing as we headed outside.
“Be careful,” Seraphina called from the porch.
“We will,” Tyler said.
A minute later, Tyler adjusted the mirror and moved the seat backward a few inches.
“Okay, let’s head out,” I said. “I thought we’d go north so you can get some practice without too much traffic.”
“Yeah, great.”
He backed out of the driveway with appropriate caution, checked both ways twice, and pulled onto the coastal road heading north.
The afternoon light was long and golden across the headlands, catching the tops of the cypress trees and turning the ocean an azure blue.
Tyler kept a reasonable speed, tracked the center line without drifting, and braked smoothly when a pickup came around a curve in the opposite direction. His hands stayed at ten and two.
The road curved north along the headlands, dipping briefly through a stand of eucalyptus before opening back out to the ocean view. A hawk hung motionless over the cliff edge, working the updraft. Fog hovered offshore, a low white wall about a mile out, waiting for evening to make its move inland.
“This is a good place to learn how to drive,” I said.
“Thanks again for taking me out.”
“You’re doing great.”
“I had a class at school, so I’ve driven quite a bit. Mom just gets so nervous that she makes me nervous.”
“Maybe it’s better to have a friend teach you than your mom.”
We grew quiet as the coastal road zigged and zagged.
I told him how to slow as you approached a curve and then accelerate slightly before you straightened.
About ten minutes later we were at a high point with a lookout.
I suggested we stop and take a break. He eased the car into the parking lot and turned off the car.
We sat for a moment, taking in the view.
“Does the stuff with your dad still hurt?” Tyler asked, surprising me with the question.
“A little. But now that I’m an adult, I understand better than I did when I was your age.”
“I wonder about my dad sometimes.”
“Yeah?”
“But I won’t look for him. It would hurt my mom too much. Plus he said he didn’t want a child.”
“Your mom does pretty well, all on her own,” I said. “And you’re a great kid, so she must be doing something right.”
“Thanks. She’s the best, you know? Always strong. Works super hard. That’s why I have to look after her. She can’t do everything.”
“You’re lucky to have her, and vice versa.”
“Does it bother you that she has a kid?” Tyler asked. “Cause some men wouldn’t want a teenager in the package.”
“When you get to be my age, you realize life doesn’t always come as a simple package wrapped in a bow. Things are messy most of the time. Our job is to handle whatever comes our way with grace. Anyway, far as I can tell, you’re a bonus. An unexpected gift.”
He turned to look at me, his eyes soft. “Is that true for real?”
“For real.” I paused for a moment, looking out the window at the expanse of blue water. “When I was married, I wanted a child. Dana kept putting me off when it came to kids. In hindsight, it was probably best.”
“I always wanted a dad,” Tyler said, voice husky. “All of us kids wanted that.”
“That’s why the dating app, huh?”
“Yeah, not just for us, but for our moms too. Like none of them were doing a thing about their romantic situations. Although, it wasn’t my idea. At first, I thought it was a disaster waiting to happen. But I was talked into it. The girls can be persuasive. And they were right. At least so far.”
“Get used to it. Women are almost always smarter than us.”
“Are you sticking around?” Tyler asked. “Or is this just a temporary stop?”
I chose my words carefully, knowing how tender a fifteen-year-old heart could be.
How hard it was at that age to know where you fit in.
To whom you belonged. Hiding it all behind a mask of indifference while inside turmoil boiled and brewed.
“When I came out here it was mostly to lick my wounds. Spend time with Wes and Margaret. Let them take care of me for a while. But the longer I’m here, the more reasons I find to stay. ”
“But what about your work? Won’t you have to go back to Nashville?”
“Only if I want to. Turns out, you can write songs in the Pacific time zone just as well as anywhere else.”
“Does my mom make you want to stay?”
“Yeah. And you do too.”
“Thanks for coming to my game the other day,” Tyler said, his voice husky. “And for this.”
“Anytime.”
We were quiet for a few seconds, before Tyler asked, “This stuff about you and Ivy James—it’s all made up, right?”
“I’ve found that, in most cases, there’s always a little truth in a story.
Ivy and I are like siblings. We’ve known each other a long time and promised each other that if one of us had the opportunity to help the other in a really hard business we would.
And we have. All that said, Dana felt jealous of our close relationship.
She wanted more from me. Songs that would make her a star like Ivy.
But the record label caused some problems in that area.
I could feel Dana slipping away and held on for dear life.
But, in the end, that was the worst thing I could’ve done. ”
“Do you think Dana actually believes any of it to be true?”
“You tell yourself a story for long enough, you start to believe it.”
“What stories do you tell yourself?” Tyler asked.
His question took me aback for a moment. “I guess I’ve told myself I’m unlovable. That I make people leave because I love them too hard.”
“But how can you think that when Wes and Margaret basically adopted you?”
I looked at him, at the way the last rays of sun reflected in his eyes, and thought, this kid is special.
An old soul. “You have a great point. That should be evidence in the other direction. Sometimes, though, we’re scared enough that it’s easier to tell ourselves the negative story so we don’t let anything or anyone hurt us. ”
“I get that.”
“What do you think? Ready to head home and grill some steaks?”
He grinned. “Let’s do it. Mom will be worrying if we’re gone too long.”
“Lucky you to have someone love you enough to worry,” I said.
“She’ll be worrying about you too.” Tyler gave me a knowing look before starting the engine and turning the car back toward the road that led us home.