Brad rang Valerie’s doorbell then stepped back on the porch. Seconds later, he saw her through the glass in the door. A nervous anxiousness that had tickled the back of his mind all day surged forward and sweat beaded his upper lip. When she opened the door, he felt like all the air got pushed out of his lungs.

She wore tight black leather pants, high-heeled black leather boots, and a white shirt that lay off her shoulders and drifted down to somewhere beyond her hips. She’d pulled her hair to the side and secured it with a black ribbon covered in little white polka-dots. Silver hoop earrings hung from her ears.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “Ready?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” She smiled. He took another step back and made a bow while gesturing toward his car. “Your chariot.”

She used the key to bolt the door. Three steps down the walk, she said, “Wait!” He expected her to run inside and grab something, but instead she checked the door, used the key to unlock it then lock it again, and tested the door one more time.

Witnessing this, he realized he’d have to dissect that later. Right now, he didn’t want anything distracting him.

As they walked down her drive, he looked down at her. “You look amazing.”

Her eyes skimmed the black shirt that he’d left unbuttoned at the collar and his charcoal gray pants. “You do, too. It’s like we coordinated on purpose.”

“Must be some kind of telepathic communication.” He’d considered wearing jeans, not wanting to overdress, but had changed clothes at the last minute. Now he was really glad he’d changed. He opened the car door for her and waited for her to get settled into the seat before closing it. As he walked around the front of the car, he took a deep, calming breath and let it out just as he got to his side.

He felt steady as he slipped into the car. Backing out of her driveway, he asked, “Have you ever been to a restaurant opening?”

“Uh, no, actually. I don’t even know what to expect.” He left her neighborhood as she said, “You know, I think the last time we were alone in a car was the night of your senior prom.”

The smell of her filled the car. It made him think of sun-ripened strawberries. His mind flashed back twelve years. She’d worn a bright blue, sleeveless dress with a sequined top and a long, flowing chiffon skirt. A silver clip had secured her hair in a twist on the top of her head, leaving her shoulders bare. He remembered how smooth her skin had looked and how nervous he’d felt all night long.

Refusing to let that same nervousness invade tonight, he just chuckled and glanced at her. “Did you have fun that night?”

“I’ll never forget it. It felt so good to be back in the fold like that. I can’t tell you what it meant to me. I know you could have asked anyone to prom, and you picked me. It meant the world at the time.”

“Valerie,” he said, very softly, “I didn’t want to ask anyone but you.” He glanced in her direction and saw her watching him. “I’d planned to ask you to prom from the moment I knew what a prom was. Maybe I was ten. I don’t really remember.”

“That long, huh?” Her laughter filled the car. “I think that was about the time you asked me to marry you.”

His grin came quick. “So, you do remember. Actually, we were eight.”

Putting a hand over her heart, she said with an exaggerated drawl, “How could I forget a marriage proposal from one of the Dixon Brothers?”

Even though he laughed, he couldn’t help but think about how she still grouped him with his brothers. “I meant what I said, too, with all the seriousness that an eight-year-old could muster,” he said dryly.

“I’m sure.” Her laughter filled the car.

“As I recall, you accepted so I guess we’ve been engaged for twenty years now.”

“Where’s my ring?”

They chatted about childhood memories and the prom for several minutes, both of them laughing almost continuously. Valerie pressed her palms to her cheeks and leaned back against her seat. “I needed to laugh like that,” she said as the conversation died down.

“Me, too.” He tried to remember when he’d laughed for so long. In a way, he felt a little sad that they were almost to the restaurant. He would love to freeze this time with her smiling and relaxed.

“Brad, what did you mean by a romantic date?”

He slowed as he approached the parking lot of the restaurant, spotting the entrance for the valet. As he idled and waited in line for their turn at the valet stand, he glanced over at her. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”

She toyed with the edge of her shirt, rubbing it against the leather fabric of her pants. She did not look up at him. “I mean, why did you ask me on a date?”

“Because, Valerie Flynn,” he said as he pulled up to the door and put the car in park, “I wanted to take you out. I wanted to take you out on a date with me.”

The valet opened her door before he could finish his thought. He slid out of the car and took the offered claim ticket, joining Valerie at her side of the car. He put a hand on her arm and stepped a little closer. “I’ve always wanted to date you. I’ve never pretended otherwise.”

“You dated other girls, Brad.”

Brad’s eyebrows shot up. “Like who? No, I didn’t. I’ve never went out with anyone except you.”

Valerie had a puzzled searching expression for a few minutes. “No, I guess you never did. Your brothers….”

“I’m not Jon and I’m not Ken, Valerie.”

She had to crane her neck to look at him. He watched as her lips, shining from some gloss she’d applied, opened then closed. Finally, she said, “That was a lifetime ago.”

“Yes, it was.” He moved his hand to the small of her back and they stepped toward the door. He almost whispered, as if speaking to himself, “There’s plenty of life still ahead of us.”

The entire front of the restaurant was constructed of a glass wall. Wooden frames gave the glass some depth. Black scrolling words above the door formed the Creole name Bon Manje. Inside, they could see the glow of lights and the crowds of people.

Brad pushed open the door and let Valerie precede him inside. They stepped into the lobby where a tall, thin man in a tuxedo greeted them from the host stand. Brad supplied his name and he smiled and nodded and gestured into the main restaurant. “Please, enjoy,” he said, then greeted the people coming in behind them.

The din of conversation drowned out almost any other noise. Light bulbs hung from the exposed ceiling on silver chains that matched the ductwork nestled inside dark wooden beams. Floor to ceiling curtains of thin silver ropes helped break the room up in sections. Gleaming dark wooden tables sat on top of a floor tiled with large gray squares. Black framed chairs with wooden seats and backs complemented the tables. Valerie stood and soaked in the atmosphere, loving the upscale casual theme Calla had refused to describe to her.

All around them, people made casual conversation as they ate. Along a wall, a buffet table practically bowed under the weight of the dishes and platters of food so artistically arranged that Valerie wondered how people dared to break into it to partake.

As Brad and Valerie worked their way through the crowd, he heard his name and looked up and saw Jon across the room. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment and they headed in that direction.

“Insane turnout,” Jon said when they got close enough to hear him.

“I know!” Valerie grinned and clapped her hands. “Calla is going to be so pleased. She was convinced no one would show.”

Jon gestured toward the buffet. “Incredible food. You can’t go wrong with any choice.”

A loud tapping of metal against crystal echoed through the room. Brad instinctively turned toward it and saw a microphone set up near the doors to the kitchen. Ian stood at it, clinking a fork against a glass into the microphone.

“Hello friends. Thank you for joining us.” After the crowd’s murmur of greeting, he gestured toward the door. “Please say hello to my beautiful bride, and the brilliant mind behind Bon Manje.”

The door behind him opened and Calla walked out. She had on her white chef’s jacket, which had two rows of black buttons down the front, and a pair of gray pants. She wore her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her black-framed glasses stood out from her face.

“Hi, everyone!” she greeted with a huge smile. The building erupted with applause. People whistled, yelled, and clapped and Calla reacted by putting her hands on her hips and smiling at the crowd. “Wow, thank you,” she said. “A few years ago, I spent several months cooking in an orphanage in Haiti. While there, I learned how to make do with what supplies I could get my hands on and how precious every morsel of food is, and became aware of how limited food supplies are to too many people in the world. I also got to experience a whole new palate of spices and flavor combinations. That food is what inspired the food here at Bon Manje.

“This restaurant, some of the proceeds from it will go back to that orphanage and to others like it. Hettie? Where are you?” Brad looked in the same direction as Calla and saw a young blonde woman raise her hand. She stood next to a tall black man who had his arm around her. Calla continued, gesturing to the couple. “My cousin-in-law, Hettie, and her husband Emmanuel run the orphanage and I am just so happy and honored that they could be here tonight.”

Applause filled the room again and Calla smiled until it died down. “So, let’s enjoy the food my staff and I have worked so hard to prepare, enjoy the drinks, enjoy the music, and tomorrow, tell all your friends how amazing Bon Manje is.”

She stepped away from the mic but did not go back to the kitchen. Instead, she started working her way through the room. Brad looked at Jon. “Rather impressive.”

“Ian is so proud of her he could bust. Did you see him watching her?” Jon gestured toward the food. “I’m going to get some more. There’s some plantain boat-looking thing that is honestly the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Brad looked at Valerie. “Want to battle the crowd for food?”

“Definitely!”

He waited until she stepped in front of him, then walked behind her while they slowly made their way to the food line. As they stood there, people in chef’s jackets regularly came out of the kitchen carrying dishes, replenishing the food on the buffet line.

They chatted with each other and with people they knew around them, and slowly moved forward. As they took plates from the stack, Brad listened to the servers stationed behind the table explain the dishes. They sounded like contestants on some televised food challenge with their elaborate descriptions.

Soon, he had his plate piled with roasted chicken, polenta, the plantain dish that Jon had recommended, and some fruit pastries that looked like they should grace the cover of a magazine, and he carried a spiced tea with his other hand. He and Valerie made their way to a table, joining his father and Ken.

“Can we sit here?” Brad asked, gesturing at the empty seats.

“Sure,” Phillip said, gesturing at open chairs with a chicken wing.

After setting down his plate, Brad held a chair out for Valerie. Before sitting down, he said, “Do you need anything?”

She touched the bundle of silverware rolled up in a napkin and looked up at him, smiling. “Nope.”

He sat down next to her, automatically reaching for her hand and bowing his head. Because of the noise, he prayed silently, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked at her. “I’m starving.”

For a moment, she looked uneasy, then she smiled and unrolled her tableware. “Me, too. I’ve hardly eaten all day in preparation for this.”

Ken leaned close so they could hear him. “Great turnout. I know how nervous Ian was before tonight. Can’t imagine how Calla felt.”

“She felt so nervous that she could barely chop an onion this morning,” Calla said, standing at their table.

Brad smiled and stood, holding his hand out to her husband, Ian. They shook hands as Valerie and Calla hugged. “This is amazing,” Valerie said, resting her hands on Calla’s shoulders. “I can’t believe how beautiful this all is.”

Calla laughed and slipped an arm around Ian’s waist. “That’s his fault. He did the design. My input started and ended in the kitchen.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “She told me how she wanted everything, not just the kitchen,” he said, clearly proud.

Calla gestured toward their table. “Please, eat and enjoy. I’m going to keep working my way through the room.” She put a hand on Valerie’s shoulder. “I’d love to do breakfast Saturday, if you’re free.”

“Sure. Give me a call.”

After sitting back down, Brad took a small bite of the plantain dish. He closed his eyes and savored the flavors of goat cheese, lamb, and plantain.

“What did I tell you?” Jon said as he slipped into the seat next to him. “I could eat these morning, noon, and night.”

Brad looked at the mixture sitting in a black plantain skin that looked like a boat. “Yeah. Wow.”

“I know where I’ll be eating my next thousand dinners,” Jon said. He looked at Valerie. “You didn’t get the boat.”

“Yeah,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “I don’t much like lamb. Or feta.” She speared a carrot with her fork and held it up. “These roasted vegetables, though. My word. To die for.”

Phillip smiled his thanks as a waiter cleared his plate. “I’m going to head out. Your mom had a meeting at church tonight that conflicted with this. I told her I’d pick her up on my way home.”

Jon stood, too. “I’m out, too. I’ve eaten three boats. I think if I get another one, they’ll make me leave.”

“See you soon,” Valerie said, waving and smiling.

Ken’s eyes caught something across the room. “I need to go talk to someone.” He stood and pushed his chair back in. “Don’t worry about holding my seat. I have already eaten.” He rushed off.

Brad ate half of the food on his plate before Valerie leaned toward him and said, “Calla’s got herself a winner on her hands, doesn’t she?”

He looked around. Happy people. Smiles, laughter, hugs. Empty plates. “Assuming the management’s up to par, then yes. The food is amazing. The colors, ambiance, furniture. She has done everything right so far.”

Valerie gestured toward the serving table. “The staff seems to be really on the ball. They act like they’ve worked together for years instead of a week.”

He nodded. “They depend on the success, too.”

They ate some more. Just as he took his last bite, he heard the strum of guitar strings. They both looked up at the stage as someone began tapping out a rhythm on drums. Soon, an entire band had taken up instruments and played a very lively, island sounding song. Brad watched as Hettie and Emmanuel moved to empty floor space in front of the band and started dancing rhythmically.

Valerie grinned and started clapping her hands. Remembering prom night twelve years ago and how she never left the dance floor, he gestured with his head. “Do you want to dance?”

The frown that crossed her face confused him until she spoke, then he understood. “I don’t know if I can anymore. My hip…” her voice trailed off and she slowly quit clapping.

“Tell you what. Let’s try, and if you can’t, we’ll stop. You used to love to dance.” He stood and held out his hand. She hesitated about two seconds longer than he anticipated, then put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

Like always when she first stood, she walked with a slightly more pronounced limp, but by the time they got to the area where couples had started coming together to dance, it had almost entirely disappeared.

He turned and held his arms out and she easily stepped into them, putting one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. He gripped her waist with one hand and smiled down at her as they slowly started moving.

Letting her set the pace, they gradually sped up until they danced in rhythm with the band and the other dancers. He watched her face fill with joy, a look he hadn’t seen in over a decade. He grinned and continued dancing.

She lasted maybe twenty minutes before she held up her hand. “I can’t or I’ll be in a wheelchair tomorrow.” Despite her words, her smile lit up her face from the inside.

“Do you need to sit?”

“No. I need to lean, really. Maybe one of those taller chairs by the bar will work.”

They worked their way through the crowd. He couldn’t help but closely monitor how she moved her feet, seeing the limp clearly now, searching her face for signs of pain. Thankfully, he found her an empty seat at the bar and watched as she arranged her legs so her right leg hung down, stopping a few inches off the floor. She fanned at her face with her hand.

“That was so nice. I needed that so much.”

He put a hand on the back of her chair. “Good. Can’t help but like dates that use phrases like, ‘that was so nice.’ It means I’m doing something right.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

Brad immediately said, “Club soda with lime.” He looked at Valerie, who pursed her lips.

“The same, but I want lemon and lime.” She smiled up at him. “I worked up a thirst.”

“Me, too.” He watched as Sami approached. She wore a sleeveless white shirt tucked into a purple skirt with big white polka dots on it and a red belt. She’d curled and pinned her purple hair so one giant curl bounced on the front of her head and a red bow secured the bun to the back of her head.

“Nice moves, Mr. Dixon,” she said, smiling with shiny red lips. “I approve.”

His laughter barked out of him. “I’m sure you do.”

She leaned toward Valerie. “Did you see Calla yet? Isn’t she awesome?”

“Very much so. Yes, I saw her. When we first started eating.” Valerie looked around, gesturing with her hand. “I’m overwhelmed at this.”

“Me, too, and I knew what was coming!” She looked up at Brad and pointed to her hair. “No panicking. It’s just temporary for tonight.”

With raised eyebrows, he said, “I never said a word.” The bartender slid their drinks to him and looked at Sami.

She held a finger up to him, and he nodded but did not speak to her. Seconds later, he slid a tall glass filled with a bubbling amber drink. “You wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not thinking it.” She took a sip from the straw then waved. “See you two later.”

Valerie frowned. “I hope she has a ride home.”

Brad shook his head. “That was ginger ale. She hasn’t had a drink in six years.” He drank about half his club soda in three swallows. After setting his drink down, he asked, “How’s the hip?”

“Not as bad as I feared.” She took a small sip of her drink. “This was fun. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming with me.” Despite what she said, she absently rubbed her hip. Even though he’d rather not see an end to their evening, he leaned down and asked, “Ready to go?”

“I think so.” She gingerly slid off the stool and took a long pull from her glass. He tossed a folded bill into the bartender’s tip jar and put a hand on the small of Valerie’s back. He let her set the pace as they worked their way through the restaurant, stopping several times to speak to people they knew from work. Across the room, he saw Ken, so he lifted his hand to tell him goodbye, and they stepped out into the cool evening.

As they waited for his car, Valerie lifted her face to the sky and took a deep breath through her nose. “I smell wisteria,” she said, eyes closed. “Oh, that makes me think of your mama’s garden shed.” She opened her eyes again and looked up at him, a soft smile warming her eyes. “Does she still have it, with all that wisteria covering the sides? It looked like a fairy’s house.”

He laughed and stepped forward as his car pulled up. “She does, though she’s tried to tame the vine a few times. It always takes over from her.” As he opened the door, she slid inside. He handed the valet a tip and walked around to the driver’s side.

The sun had not yet set but lit up the western sky with vivid streaks of bright reds and oranges. Brad headed in the direction of Valerie’s house.

They chatted easily on the ride there. The topic went from wisteria-covered garden sheds to antics of summertime in the pool. Valerie laughed, smiled, snorted, and gasped as she remembered their childhood.

Too soon, he pulled into her driveway. He turned the car off before he got out and opened her door. He offered his hand to help her rise out of the car. Keeping her hand in his, he walked her to the front door, then slowly released her and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks for being my date tonight.”

He watched as she checked the door before she used the key to unlock the deadbolt. “It was fun.” She let the door swing open and gestured inside. “Want some tea?”

With a small smile, he said, “You talked me into it.”

He followed her inside, stepping into the living room. He noticed she set her purse on the table but kept her keys and phone in her hand. He slowly followed her, watching as she tensed, her face becoming drawn. She started to set her keys on the table next to her purse but fisted them in her hand and raised the fist to her forehead, closing her eyes. “I thought with you here I could….” Again, she trailed off, not completing the sentence.

“Could what?”

Her eyes flew open and he could see the panic in them. “I just need to check something. I’ll be right back.” She went into the kitchen. He watched her reach up and check the latch on the pantry door lock. She hurried past him. From his vantage point, he watched her check the coat closet, the hall closet, and the spare bedroom door lock. She went into her room and came back out seconds later, much more relaxed and at ease. By the time she made it back to him, she even had a smile on her face. She set her keys and phone down next to her purse.

“Tea!” she said, as if reminding herself. “Any preference?”

Intrigued about her behavior just now and the way she had checked the lock repeatedly when they left, he frowned but said, “Anything’s fine. Whatever you’re having.”

He followed her into the kitchen. By the time she had the kettle heating up, she had started acting normal. No more underlying tension, no more near panicky movements. She assembled cups and tea bags with grace and ease.

“Do you take anything in it?” When she looked at him, he noticed her eyes still skirted with a little bit of panic, maybe discomfort. How he longed to have the right to pull her into his arms and soothe the fear away.

“No. Nothing. Thanks.”

They carried their steaming cups into the living room. Valerie gestured at the couch and set her cup on the table in front of it. “Sit, please.”

She perched on the edge of the cushion, but he settled back, cradling the hot cup between his hands. How did he approach her behavior tonight? Should he, even? A very large part of him wanted to help her fix it.

As if reading his thoughts, she said, “I just have to check, make sure I’m alone when I come home. I can relax once I look.”

He looked at the coat closet. “So, you put locks on the outside of the closets?”

“Right. Someone can’t very well be hiding in there if I have it locked, right?” She picked up her mug. “I know it’s a little compulsive. But my doctor said it’s not abnormal, and one day I won’t even realize I forgot to do it.”

He nodded as he blew on the surface of his tea. “Have you ever forgotten to check?”

“Not so far.” She laughed and shrugged. “But I can sleep every night.” She took a sip and flinched back from the heat. “Well, most nights. I don’t know why you asked me out. I’m broken, Brad. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I don’t know what you’re looking for but I’m pretty sure I’m not it.”

Her directness had never once surprised him. He responded just as directly. “I’ve had feelings for you since childhood, Valerie. I know you’ve been through a terrible time, and it’s hurt you. Physically, mentally, spiritually. I get that.” He set his cup down and leaned forward. “But I’m not in a hurry and I’m willing to go at whatever pace works for you.”

She opened her mouth then closed it again. Finally, she said, “But—”

He interrupted her. “But work. Yes, I know. Boss. Employee. Propriety. Like I said, no hurry. And I also asked you to quit thinking of me as your boss. Our relationship goes beyond that. Just like my dad and me. Just like my brothers and me.”

“True.” She looked down at her tea and finally back up at him. Excitement lit up her eyes. “Fair enough.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll take fair.” Wishing he could stay but knowing he had to go, he slid forward, about to stand. “I am going to go now. I did want to ask if you’ll go to church with me Sunday. I know you’ve not been going to our old home church since you’ve been back, so I don’t know if you’re going anywhere else.”

She stared at him for several seconds then finally blinked and picked her mug up by the handle. “Brad, I don’t go to church anymore.”

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “What do you mean?”

She took another hesitant sip of her tea before responding. “I mean, I don’t go to church. I don’t believe in God like that anymore. I certainly don’t worship any gods.”

“So, what? You suddenly think life, the universe, and everything happened by accident?” Brad asked, skeptical.

“No. I’m not stupid, Bradford.” She sounded a little bit defensive as she explained. “I do believe that everything was created by a higher power. I just don’t believe that creator gives a hoot about you or me, much less loves us.”

Brad stared at her. For three or perhaps four long heartbeats, his mind raced as he tried to determine if she was serious, or if this was some kind of terrible joke. When he concluded that she meant it, a painful sadness gripped his heart in a tight fist. Just like that, his world collapsed around him, like a house of cards that just fell in on itself when someone in the room sneezed. She didn’t believe in God anymore? How could he continue…?

Well, obviously, he couldn’t. That wouldn’t work, and the Bible carefully and clearly explained that. The tight ache that stabbed icy cold fingers through his chest felt eerily similar to the one that struck him when he found out she’d moved in with another man, when he heard she wore an engagement ring on her finger. He had lost her. He had lost her for once and for all.

“I see.” He set his mug back down and stood. “Well, I’m going to get going. Thanks again for coming with me, Valerie. I really appreciate it.”

Without waiting for her to walk him out, he made a beeline for the door, unlocking locks until he could throw the door open and leave.