“General Tso’s chicken,” she said, deftly handling the chopsticks.
“Did you know that General Tso was an actual person? I always imagined him visiting a fortune teller in China and saying, ‘I have defended the emperor and saved the nation. How will history remember me?’ Then the fortune teller replies, ‘For a sweet and spicy chicken entrée.’”
Her blue-green eyes sparkled as she giggled.
“Something to drink?” I asked.
“A glass of wine would be perfect.”
“Sure. Give me a sec.”
Back inside my house, I found a forgotten bottle of pinot grigio hiding in the door of the refrigerator. Wine was not my thing, and I spent a few moments locating a corkscrew before I returned to the porch with two flute glasses. They probably were not the right glasses, but they were better than coffee mugs.
She said, “I was starting to worry about you.”
“Took longer than I thought.”
“Don’t interpret this the wrong way, Bryce, but you look exhausted. I mean you look nice and all, but when this case is over, you should get some rest.”
Twisting the corkscrew, I unsealed the bottle with a pop. “Yeah, I’m pretty beat. But I’m as ready as I’m going to be for the hearing tomorrow.”
She crossed her long legs and smoothed her dress along her thighs.
“We’re still on for lunch afterwards?” Jennifer asked.
“You bet. Going to be a busy day, though. So you’re definitely coming to court?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She kept her blue-green eyes on me as I poured the wine. “Come on, the case is fascinating, and watching you work will be cool.”
I poured the wine. Her warm fingers brushed against mine as I handed her a glass. “Don’t expect too much from the hearing. The deck’s stacked against me. You probably won’t be that impressed when it’s over.”
“Don’t worry about that, Bryce. Half the people who go to court end up losing.”
I tried to scoop up rice with my chopsticks, but dropped most of it. “Usually both sides lose … each in their own ways.”
She sipped her pinot grigio. “Thought we agreed not to talk about the case.”
“Yeah, we did … troublemaker.”
Her mouth curled into a smile. “Well, good luck tomorrow, anyway.”
As we finished our dinners, we chatted about our travels around the world and the careers that we dreamed of pursuing when we were younger and our futures were wide open, before time and circumstances turned so many of those dreams to ashes.
Jennifer broke into my thoughts. “You’ve barely touched your wine.”
“Oh, I will.”
She tossed her long blond hair to the side. “You know the bay feels different in the evening. When I’ve come out here before, it’s been mostly in the early mornings. Better light for filming. After dark, there’s an ease to this Eastern Shore. So tranquil.”
“Yeah, this place gets to you. Sometimes you stop and catch yourself. You realize you never want to leave.”
She leaned toward me. “You drank beer at Gertrude’s Crab House the other night. How about if I get you one instead of wine?”
“Nah, I can get it.”
“No worries,” she said, resting her fingertips on the back of my hand. “I’ve finished eating, and you’ve still got a way to go. I’ll find it.” She rose from her chair. “Be right back.”
While she was inside, I had the last of the Chinese food and then stacked the empty plates. She soon returned, tipping a brown bottle into a pint glass. White foam drizzled down the sides of the glass. “Here you go, Bryce. More your speed, but I poured it too fast.”
“Oh, I’ll take care of that.” I took the copper-colored ale from her hands and quickly sipped it to stop the overflow.
Her eyes met mine. “You prefer those India Pale Ales, but they’re so heavy.”
“I’ve always liked a beer that you can eat with a knife and a fork.”
“How was dinner?” she asked.
“Fantastic. You made my night, Jennifer.”
“Come with me. I have a surprise.” Taking my hand, Jennifer picked up a small paper bag off the table and walked me over to an outdoor sofa. In the cool breeze, I sat down beside her, my shoulder and leg gently pressing against hers.
“Well,” she said, “you haven’t had dessert.”
“Oh, yeah?” I replied.
“Fortune cookies, of course.”
“Okay,” I said, expecting a different response. “Sounds good to me.”
She dug through the brown paper bag and pulled out two fortune cookies wrapped in clear plastic. “You pick first. Otherwise the fortune won’t come true. Go on, just pick.”
I took the one farther from me for no particular reason. We unwrapped the cookies, cracked them open, and read our fortunes.
“What’s yours say?” I asked.
Jennifer replied, “In the end, all things will balance.”
“That’s interesting. What do you think it means?”
“Ancient Taoist wisdom, I suppose. Maybe you should’ve gotten this one. Your office has all those scales of justice.”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, that’s not how it works. That’s yours.”
“Okay,” she replied with an alluring grin. “Now your turn.”
I smoothed the small slip of paper, held it toward the porchlight, and read it out loud. “I cannot help you, for I am just a cookie.”
Jennifer pitched forward and laughed freely and beautifully at my fortune, or misfortune, or whatever it was.
Rolling my eyes, I joked, “Hey, I think I want a refund.”
I threw back the rest of my ale and placed the empty pint glass on an end table. Jennifer finished the last sip of her wine.
Slowly and tenderly, I put my arm around her shoulder. My pulse raced as she leaned into my side. Her body was warm and soft in contrast to the evening chill.
A sudden feeling of exhaustion clouded my vision, so I blinked my eyes a few times and looked toward the hazy lights of the coastal towns across the bay. Jennifer had been right. I was overly tired and drowsy, but there was no way that I would nod off right now.
When our faces turned toward each other, I could detect a faint hint of jasmine perfume coming from her bare neck. She leaned her head to the side,
