My heart beats faster, and I take a step back. “Fraternizing with the enemy?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“Pbssht, you wish, Everheart.” How ridiculously arrogant can one person be? Neither of us had much time to date during school, but hookups were par for the course. I had them, I’m sure Knox did too, and I never cared then. Nor do I now.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the screen. “As much as I’d like to discuss this further, I have to catch this.”
He turns toward their table and I step back to ours, but I can still hear his side of the conversation. “Hey, Dad, is everything okay with the restaurant?”
He’s silent for a moment and I’m trying hard not to eavesdrop.
“You don’t have to understand. This is what I want to do.”
Again, silence.
“My brothers are their own men. If they want to help me, why are you so opposed? You have plenty of coverage and we’re only gone a few days. If we advance, then a few days next month. What’s the big deal?”
He sits down at their table and lifts a bottle of water just put there by someone on the crew.
“No, Dad. Sorry. No. You’re being unreasonable.”
He pulls at the label on the water bottle as his grip tightens on his cell phone. His voice lowers to a menacing tone.
“You do whatever you think is right. You always do.”
He looks at the phone, then closes his eyes.
I hurry and put my earbuds in, then turn on my music. When I glance back his way, Knox is pulling items out of a bag, his phone barely hanging on to the top of the table on the opposite end.
The music streams in my ears and I instantly skip the song, the same as I do any time The Wallflowers come on. Knox reminds me of a young Jakob Dylan and now their music is dead to me forever.
Meanwhile, what was that conversation with his dad about? I thought he was behind this whole excursion of the Everheart brothers. From what I overheard, maybe Flynn Everheart isn’t completely supportive of his sons after all. A part of me twists in sympathy and understanding. If that’s the case, no wonder Knox wanted to enter the competition. No, girl. He didn’t have to enter, he chose to. He wants to beat me, and there’s no way I’m going to let him take this opportunity away from me. From my family. He doesn’t deserve it. Knox isn’t someone to feel sorry for just because he had a spat with good ole Dad.
Rowan’s Famous Green Beans
1 pound fresh green beans, cleaned and trimmed
3/4 pound assorted mushrooms (bella, shiitake, oyster, etc.), sliced
3 cups cold water
1 white onion, sliced thinly
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup bacon grease
Salt and pepper to taste
Place green beans and mushrooms in a large stock pot. Add water and turn on high heat. Meanwhile, heat a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat and sauté onion in bacon grease for 3 minutes. Add garlic and sauté 1 minute more. Add mixture to green beans including all scrapings. Season with salt and pepper. Turn heat down to medium and half cover with a lid, allowing steam to escape. Cook 45 minutes.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
CHAPTER SIX
Knives out.
This morning’s challenge is to cook a limited menu we would offer in our restaurant for an entire lunch service. Three appetizers, two entrées, two sides, and two desserts. Just the three of us. Mama barely cooks one dish every day at the restaurant and Wyatt does prep work, which is important of course, but not helpful in planning a menu and executing. We have four and a half hours for all of our food to get on the table. Appetizers need to be out in two.
A million recipes speed through my head. A beef and seafood option would be best. Oh, a French vanilla soufflé would set the judges on fire. I’m practically giddy with the possibilities.
I spare a glance at the Dolter sisters who look utterly lost.
Even though I know this is a bad idea, I peek at Knox who’s smirking, his cornflower eyes sparkling. He knows. I don’t have power over my mother in this competition any more than I do in her restaurant. I talk about Wyatt being a mama’s boy, but I’m no better now that she’s sick.
When I look back at my own family, Mama looks determined and Wyatt resigned.
Mama leans over to speak to us. “Open that laptop of yours, Rowan. Let’s plan the menu.”
I do as told but know there’ll be little planning. She’ll pick from Smothered in Love’s menu and suffocate any idea I even attempt. I can practically start typing without her direction because I pretty much know what she’ll select. She’s probably right anyway. She’s been at this a lot longer than me.
“Okay, we’ll start with crawfish dip with crusty bread, fried green tomatoes with remoulade, and salmon croquettes.”
I tap the keys as unenthusiastically as I can. This is food I could make blindfolded. When I remember there’s a camera pointed our way, I perk up.
“For our entrées and sides, let’s do chicken and dumplings, oxtails, macaroni and cheese, and your greens, Rowan.” She nods vigorously, agreeing with herself.
These are all our top sellers so no surprises why she picked them. They’re all delicious and I’m sure they’ll be fine. I type in the dessert because I already know what it’ll be.
“And for our two desserts…” She taps her lips with the pen she hasn’t used once since she’s been here. “Peach cobbler and sweet potato pie.”
I look down at my screen, then back up at her and smile.
“Aren’t you going to write it down?”
“Already got it, Mama.”
“Okay, good. Time for you to shine,
