Chapter 5 #2
My ex was looking for the perfect woman to shine by his side.
I’m looking for an imperfect man who makes the perfect partner for me…
one who loves me for my own faults. I want both of us to see through the cracks in the veneer, to the heart of who we really are as people.
I’m certain Jude’s not after a quick screw.
Men aren’t protective of women they don’t plan on keeping.
If we’re starting something together, it only makes sense to take our time.
“You keep your eyes on that pot, Greer Delphine!” I jerk my head up from my phone when I hear my aunt. Laying it in my lap, I grab the wooden spoon again, feeling guilty. There are few sins greater in a Cajun household than burning the roux.
After the posts from Jude, my mind’s racing and I’m suddenly grateful for the busy work and my cousin’s non stop chatter, weaving a lie to my aunt about her plans this weekend.
Allie’s boyfriend, P.J., isn’t exactly open about his new source of income.
Almost everyone believes the bruises on his knuckles are from the MMA gym, but he's fought in an underground circuit for about a year now. He says he does it for the money for school. So I stay quiet, and Allie tells tall tales to her parents. Allie hates the bouts. This is the first she’s attended since I’ve moved back home.
Long after the chicken is put on to simmer, my uncle comes home from work and washes up while I set the table.
I’ve always loved these plates. They’re Corelle dishes from the 1970s that have tiny yellow blossoms around the border and belonged to Maw Maw when I was young.
They’ve always reminded me of sleepovers at her house.
I remember waking up late to find heaping piles of pain perdu. The decadent dish, similar to French toast, has a crème br?lée flavor and melts in your mouth. Maw Maw didn’t care if our hands were sticky from cane syrup or if we were hyped up on coffee milk. She was happy to have us all together.
Allie places glass bowls of rice and smothered okra on the Lazy Susan, then puts out the pot of stewed chicken. “Schedule a grocery pickup for in the morning. Any necessities you need. The store here will be cheaper than that tiny market in Parran.”
I turn the server and take a spoonful of veggies. “I’m starting to think that y’all are trying to get rid of me.”
Aunt Marcel jokes about nookie in the kitchen while the house is empty. Uncle Cooper wags his eyebrows at her. Allie’s fork clatters as it hits the table, face crumpled in disgust. “Ugh, Mom!”
The joke makes me chuckle, but probably because it’s not my parents.
“I’m moving in with you,” Allie jokes.
“So I can walk in on you and P.J.,” I whisper to her. “Hard pass.”
“You’re no fun.”
“You’re my main source of stress.”
“You know you’re gonna miss me.”
“Yeah… like a canker sore.”
My aunt and uncle start talking about some of their friends, and Allie reaches for her phone, her honey-blonde hair partially hiding a tense expression.
Her phone chimes again and again, as if someone’s sending a long stream of texts.
I feel like an interloper watching, so I pull out my own phone and text Jude back.
The only direct text message he’s sent so far.
He says he’s at work but is thinking of me and asks what I’m up to tonight.
I send a picture of the beautifully prepared stewed chicken.
Greer
Sorry, I’m just messaging back. I was on cooking duty.
Jude
You saving me a plate? Nevermind. I want to watch you make it for me.
Greer
I’m not nearly as amazing of a cook as the other women in my family. I do what I’m told and let them do the magic.
Jude
I’ll eat anything if you make it, promise, even that okra. And I never touch it, even in gumbo.
Greer
I think they kick you out of the state for that.
Jude
My grandma was told by a neighbor that okra would cure my sister’s diabetes, so we ate it almost every night for weeks. I haven’t touched it since.
Jude’s casualness with my diabetes is so refreshing.
Whenever I have a new acquaintance, there’s always an awkwardness whenever I need to take care of it.
Some people casually mention it or ask a question, which I’m okay with.
As they get to know me, they might ask if I need a juice box or mention something in passing, but the unease slowly fades.
Jude just slides it right into conversation, like it’s nothing.
Talking about my initial diagnosis though…
I feel at my rawest. I sometimes make jokes about it.
“Yeah, my blood sugar was like eight hundred. Ambulance rides are bumpy!” Maybe it’s because he’s lived through it with his sister, but I don’t feel the need to pass it by with a joke and change the subject.
Greer
Some relative always insisted that okra water would cure my diabetes. Eventually, Mom told her that ‘they didn’t know what to do with me because I wouldn’t eat my vegetables’.
Jude
Did your parents do anything crazy at diagnosis?
Greer
Well, Dad was deployed, so I wouldn’t know about him. Mom was pretty shut down, so our family came to stay with us. Allie came with me to the endocrinologist because I was scared. She told the doctor he had to take out her pancreas so we could share.
Jude
You A positive? I’ll give you mine.
Greer
I’m O positive, but...did you seriously just use illegal organ harvesting as a pickup line?
Jude
I’m already giving you my heart. What’s giving you one more piece of me when I want all of you.
My whole body shivers, but it’s not the bad type.
My parents would say I’ve got the frissons, that hit of dopamine and adrenaline that makes your whole body tremble and goosebumps rise over your skin.
I’ve only felt it this intensely once before, while going through old family pictures.
A young Edwardian woman in a gauzy dress stole my breath.
I couldn’t believe my resemblance to her.
The lips that I’ve always thought too thin, even the shape of her hands.
Someone wrote her name on the back, Delphine Melancon, Maw Maw’s great-grandmother.
The instant I saw the familiar name, it happened, that same intense shaking of my hands, my spine tingling as I stared at the woman whose name, face, and bloodline I share.
Delphine is a family name that honors our family’s casquette girl.
She was sent from a French orphanage by King Louis XV as a bride for the settlers in the Louisiana territories.
That explains the shared name, but the resemblance was so uncanny that it prompted my uncle to joke about time travel.
Somehow, a man I’ve only met twice has evoked the same strong emotion.
I’m not sure how to answer Jude’s last text, not when it comes off so sincere. What do you even say to that?
I’m off the hook when he texts a simple “I gotta run,” but I know Jude’s caught me again, wrapped right around his little finger.