“Real mature, buddy.”
“I don’t need your permission. We’re engaged and that’s that. You can either accept it or not. I don’t care.”
“No, you don’t need my permission. Again, I’m only asking questions. I’m your older sister and I care about your future. Am I not allowed?”
Hannah isn’t sure what to do. She rotates to Wyatt, but then back to me, then back to Wyatt, her blond ponytail swishing.
“Hannah, I thought you wanted to go to school.”
She turns my way again. “I do. I am. I’ve been saving up since I started here. That doesn’t have anything to do with marrying Wyatt.”
Maybe it doesn’t. I don’t even know why I brought that up. I’m just pissing in the wind here. Wyatt’s too young to get married.
“You’re saying our parents signed off on this?” I direct my question back to Wyatt because I’m not sure how to proceed with Hannah.
“They want me to be happy. And they like Hannah.”
How do they know Hannah? I guess Mama would, but that’s in a strictly professional way. Where was I when Daddy even met her, less known getting to know her? “I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say congratulations.” Wyatt comes back in from the porch and walks right back up in my face.
I peer around him to Hannah, who’s watching me expectantly.
I shrug, and smile. “Congratulations, then.”
Wyatt throws his arms around my neck and squeezes way too hard.
“Stop, boy. You’re going to choke me out.”
Hannah is watching us with a huge smile on her face.
I’m not sure about this whole thing, but who am I to direct my brother’s life? Especially since I obviously haven’t been paying enough attention.
I extend my free arm and Hannah walks over to us, wrapping us both up. “Welcome to the family, Hannah.”
I back out of the love fest and pick invisible lint off my jacket. “When’s the big day anyway?”
Hannah says, “We’re going to have a long engagement. We’re looking at a spring wedding year after next.”
Oh good. Almost two years to ensure they’re doing the right thing. I feel like they should have led with that. This whole conversation would have gone a different way. “Okay, well get to work. Don’t forget to wash your hands.”
We prep for the day and because we’re one cook short, we really have to push ourselves to have all the premade dishes ready and everything prepared for the ones that are made to order. Lunch goes fine and as we go into dinner, Wyatt is lost to the bar. It’s okay because everything’s been prepped, and Hannah and I can handle getting the orders out. Mama’s not here to run the hotplate so we do it in tandem, communicating as we go. We’ve done this part more often than not the past couple of years.
Toward the end of the dinner service, one of the waiters comes into the kitchen and asks me to come out into the dining room. A customer has asked to see me. People ask all the time, but normally Mama meets them. Technically, she’s the executive chef as well as owner.
I nod at Hannah while washing my hands, then don a fresh jacket. When I cook, I keep my hair woven into a tight bun and normally don’t wear much makeup.
Knox is sitting alone at a small table in the corner near the bar. He sets his silverware down as I approach.
I’m wondering if he made a reservation, but probably not. We usually can squeeze a single person in if they don’t have one. “Don’t you have a restaurant to run, Everheart? It’s Saturday night.” I almost cursed, but I maintain a smile and nod as if we’re having a friendly chat. Tonight, I’m the face of Smothered in Love, and I can’t embarrass Lillie.
“I’m in timeout.”
“Your dad really was upset about you being gone?”
“What, you thought I made it up? You heard him when he called.”
“I, uh—” I did hear him, but I thought Knox fabricated the rest. He still could have for all I know. In the low light of the dining room, I can’t see his eyes to get a clue of his mood. They’re black in this light. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve been wanting to try your mom’s gumbo since the first day of competition. I have to say, it did not disappoint.”
“I’ll have to let her know.”
He peers through the room, trying to get a glimpse of the kitchen as waitstaff move in and out. We’re winding down, so there’s not much to see.
“She’s not here.”
He turns his whole body to me, and leans in. “Is she not feeling well?”
Tears prick my eyes and I blink rapidly, keeping them at bay. “No, she’s having a flare.” I could have just as easily told him to fuck off, but something in his face urged me to tell him. Made me want to confide in him. Jeesh, this has been an emotional day. “I have to go back. I’m glad you enjoyed the gumbo.”
“Can we talk after? I can wait until you’re finished.”
Against my better judgment, I nod and go back to the kitchen.
*
When I finish for the night, I hang up my smock and stride into the dining room where Knox is exactly where I left him an hour before. Only now Wyatt is seated with him, sharing a friendly cocktail. Turncoat.
Knox turns my way as I approach. “You didn’t tell me your brother’s good news.” He’s grinning, holding up his drink. I’m not certain, but it looks like a version of the signature drink Wyatt’s been crafting.
“I’d toast but I don’t have a glass.”
Wyatt jumps up and heads for the bar.
“No, Wyatt. I don’t want anything. I’ll fall asleep if I have any alcohol. And maybe you should slow down too. Don’t forget tomorrow’s Sunday.” Our busiest day and we won’t have Mama.
Knox raises his glass toward Wyatt and downs the contents. “This is really good.”
I slump in a chair
