Kali arrives at the Recipe Box just after it opens, to help me set up for the healthy living promotion, and I fill her in on my date with Andrew.
‘Oh my God, Z!’ she says, when I finish the story about the balloon. ‘Who needs Dieter’s stupid ropes course? That’s for amateurs. You guys must have been feeling pretty pumped after that.’
Actually, the rest of the night was quite a contrast to the beginning. If you break it down, it was a perfect date from the moment we arrived at my favorite Italian restaurant to the moment Andrew walked me to Dad’s door. Like Kali said, we have a lot in common. He laughed at my jokes, I laughed at his, and we never ran out of things to say. He’s cute – really cute – but when he kissed me good night, I didn’t feel any spark, which surprised me after all we’d been through earlier. Kali must be right about my hormones being off-line. Eric may have wrecked me permanently. ‘I liked him,’ I sum up as I start putting apple-maple crunch squares on the serving platters René provided. ‘And he’s even higher than seventy-seven on the compatibility scale. If he asks me out again, I’ll go.’
‘But …?’
‘But nothing.’ There’s nothing negative to say.
Kali sighs. ‘There was no magic.’
‘Not really,’ I admit. ‘At least, not yet. I’m sorry, Kali.’
‘Don’t be.’ She arranges her own platter of squares. ‘Your numbers were solid, but there’s no accounting for chemistry. You’ll give him another try, though, right? Maybe you need to kiss him again to shock your hormones back to life.’
Someone behind us says, ‘I’m glad to hear you two discussing such serious matters.’
Kali gives a little shriek. Dieter is standing at the register wearing dark jeans, a fitted turtleneck sweater, and a black leather jacket.
‘Dieter,’ Kali says. ‘Hi. What a nice surprise to see you. On a Saturday.’
‘Because Thursday’s our day, isn’t it?’ He lifts a motorcycle helmet off the counter and retrieves three envelopes from beneath it. ‘Here are your letters of warning. I’ll let you deliver Sydney’s for me.’
‘Our what?’ Kali asks.
‘You’re officially out of rope, ladies – no pun intended. Full attendance from now on, or I’ll start making house calls. Understood?’
‘It’s not like we skipped a real session,’ Kali says.
‘A session is a session no matter where it takes place,’ Dieter says.
He waits till we nod before tucking the helmet under his arm and heading for the door. ‘Thanks for this, René,’ he calls, waving a book I recognise: Romantic Meals for Lovers.
Outside, Dieter packs his book in a black box mounted on the rear of a gleaming motorcycle. Climbing aboard, he guns the engine a few times, then takes off.
‘How do you know Dieter, René?’ I ask.
‘We went to college together,’ he says.
‘I bet he was all work and no play,’ Kali says.
René laughs. ‘Quite the opposite. He got suspended for pulling a prank on the dean.’
‘A prank? Dieter?’ I say.
‘All I remember is it involved the college mascot, a wheelbarrow, and a lot of fake blood on the dean’s new carpet,’ René says. ‘It was a short suspension, but for some reason, Dieter didn’t come back until after I’d graduated. I heard he turned into a model student, but never saw him again until today. I was surprised to find him waiting when I got here.’
Taking one of my squares, René changes the subject. ‘You’ve hit the bull’s-eye this time, Zahra. And I’ll bet whatever you have in mind for next week’s Christmas baking promo is every bit as good. I had your recipe professionally printed, and we’ll display the cards in some old recipe boxes. I’ll get them from the back room, since I have to check on Sherman anyway.’
‘Sherman?’ I ask.
Smiling mysteriously, he heads into the back, reappearing a few minutes later carrying a tiny puppy with fur the color of straw, and big, worried-looking eyes. ‘Meet Sherman,’ René says.
Kali beats me to the puppy. ‘My mother would love him,’ she says. Then she looks at me. ‘My mother would love him.’
She’s not talking about the dog anymore. ‘We’ve discussed this,’ I say, after René takes Sherman outside. ‘René’s off-limits.’
We’re still arguing about it when Syd arrives a few minutes later. Banksy picks up Sherman’s scent immediately and starts sniffing around excitedly.
‘Is he feeling better?’ I ask, stooping for my face lick. What once seemed disgusting has become a ritual.
‘I think so,’ she says. ‘But I left him at home last night when I went out with Rambo. We hit Madison Manson’s favorite café, and there she was, with her brother and some friends. I got Rambo and Madison talking, and faded out of the picture.’
‘Another match for Love, Inc.,’ Kali says. ‘I trolled by your dad’s office after that, Z,’ Syd says. ‘I’ve been doing some work in the area.’
By work, she means tagging. Since Dad’s office is a storefront, you can see most of it from the sidewalk. ‘And …?’
‘As far as I can tell, he’s working alone,’ she says. ‘At around nine, he went over to Mama Fu’s and sat by himself with a double order of egg rolls. For what it’s worth, he looked like a guy who misses his wife.’
‘Mama Fu’s egg rolls are Mom’s favorite,’ I say. ‘Thanks for checking.’
Kali passes Syd her envelope. ‘Dieter stopped by, and it wasn’t a social visit.’
‘Crap,’ Syd says, after opening it.
Coming back into the store, René lets Banksy take a good sniff at Sherman before putting the puppy on the floor. The big dog bows in an invitation to play, and then they’re off, tearing around the displays, with Syd in pursuit.
The next person through the door is Brody. He’s wearing khakis and a nice shirt. ‘Mom sent me to pick you up, Kal,’ he says. ‘We’ve got a reservation at Chez Zee in twenty minutes.’
‘Try the gingerbread pancakes,’ René suggests. ‘Perfection.’
‘That’s my mom’s favorite, too,’ Kali says, shooting me a look. I’m quickly losing the battle to save René from Kali. She tails him around the store, peppering him with questions.
‘Gee, no rush, Kal,’ Brody says, leaning against the counter and helping himself to one of my squares. He chews and swallows without the usual facial contortions. ‘Much better than your gut grenades.’
‘So you’re talking to me now?’ I ask. ‘The last time I saw you, you booted me out of the trailer.’
‘You were leaving anyway, drama queen.’ He leans against the counter, all mocking white teeth and evil green eyes.
‘There are tread marks on my butt.’
‘Really? Let me see.’
He cranes for a better view, and I feel an odd stirring sensation inside. It’s as if someone replaced the batteries in my stalled hormones. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. Kali should never have planted her stupid idea in my head.
‘Rude,’ I say, to cover my confusion.
‘Again with the harsh tone,’ Brody says. ‘Nice way to talk to the person who saved your rep as a baker. Because of my good advice, none of your customers will require hospitalisation today.’
‘Like you know anything about baking.’
‘Excuse me, I suggested adding fruit and maple syrup, and look’ – he makes a show of examining a recipe card – ‘there they are.’
‘Good call,’ one of our regular customers tells Brody.
‘I would have—’
Kali’s scream cuts me off. ‘Banksy!’
Brody lifts the big dog out of Glennis’s car and carries him through the automatic doors of the veterinary hospital. A receptionist ushers him and Syd directly into an examination room.
We sit in the waiting area until Brody comes back out. ‘They’re running some tests,’ he says. ‘The vet says it could be some form of heart disease, or it could be something toxic he ate.’
I pat Kali’s knee, knowing she’s worried. ‘He was already under the weather when Syd brought him over yesterday. It wasn’t anything he ate on your watch.’
‘Maybe he stole one of Zahra’s gut grenades,’ Brody says.
Kali glares at him. ‘This isn’t funny, Brody. You should head over to the restaurant. We’re sticking around here.’
‘I’ll wait,’ he says, picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated from the table. ‘You’ll need a ride home anyway.’
We sit in silence until the sliding doors open again and Glennis appears with René.
‘Mom!’ Kali hits her forehead with the heel of her hand. ‘I forgot to call you.’
‘You did,’ Glennis says. ‘I waited at Chez Zee for half an hour, and when neither of you answered your phones, I went to the Recipe Box because Brody said he was picking you up there. René was kind enough to drive me over. Is Banksy OK?’
‘We’re still waiting to hear,’ Kali explains.
Glennis walks René to the door, where they stand chatting about dogs and photography as if they have all the time in the world. It’s not like René to leave the store in the hands of part-timers, especially during peak season.
Finally, Syd comes out of the examination room – without Banksy. ‘You’re still here,’ she says.
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘How is he?’
‘Conscious.’ She sinks into the seat beside mine. ‘The vet thinks it’s a congenital heart problem. Noticing Glennis and René, Syd asks, ‘What are they doing here?’
‘We forgot to call Mom,’ Brody says.
‘Sorry to wreck your brunch,’ Syd says. ‘You guys should go. It’ll take hours to get the blood results.’
‘We’re staying,’ Kali says. ‘No matter how long it takes.’
Glennis turns to Brody. ‘You hang on to the car and make sure everyone gets home safely,’ she says. ‘I’ll take a cab.’
‘You certainly will not,’ René says, smiling at her. ‘I’ll run you home.’ She opens her mouth to protest, and he says, ‘I insist.’
I’ve never seen René look at any of our female customers the way he’s looking at Kali’s mom right now.
Never one to pass up such an opportunity, Kali says, ‘You can still eat at Chez Zee, Mom. Take René for lunch to thank him for the ride.’
Glennis blushes. ‘Kalista!’
René winks at Kali as he guides Glennis to the door. ‘The answer is yes, but lunch is on me.’
When they’re gone, Brody pulls out his phone. ‘Thin crust work for everyone?’
Kali smiles at him. ‘Double cheese.’
‘Mushrooms,’ Syd says, before returning to the back room.
‘Hot peppers,’ I add. Pizza is the only food I like fiery, and I make sure my grandparents don’t know about it. It would give them false hope.
‘So few girls like hot peppers,’ Brody says. ‘Must be the hair.’
Kali gets up to hold the door for a tall, slim guy about Brody’s age, with closely cropped brown hair. He’s carrying a cage in one hand. The other hand is bandaged.
‘I’m Caleb,’ he tells the receptionist. ‘Hannibal’s here for his shots.’
‘Hannibal’s a funny name for a cat,’ Kali says, smiling, as Caleb takes the seat beside her. Cute guys are to Kali what a double espresso is to the rest of the world – an instant pick-me-up.
He smiles back. ‘But it’s a great name for a killer rabbit.’
‘And … she’s off,’ Brody whispers to me. ‘Give her nine minutes and she’ll find three things wrong with him. Her average is only slightly lower than my mom’s.’
Even though Syd and I tease Kali about the same thing, I have to defend her. ‘When she meets the right guy she’ll stop looking for faults.’
‘Please. She doesn’t want to find the right guy. She just thinks she does.’ I glance at him curiously. ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ he says. ‘There’s more to me than great abs and a pretty face.’
‘Your inner beauty is so well hidden.’
‘I grow on people,’ he says. ‘Like mold on a gut grenade.’
Rolling my eyes, I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope I found yesterday. ‘Does this belong to you, by any chance?’
His smug smile fades. ‘What were you doing snooping through my stuff?’
‘Hello? You mixed it up with my stuff in the trailer.’
‘Well, you better not have looked through it.’ He pushes up the sleeves of his black shirt, then pushes them back down again. It’s the first time I’ve seen Brody nervous.
‘Of course I looked through it. I needed a distraction after you called me crazy in front of a stranger.’
‘Why are you always so sensitive?’
‘Look who’s talking, Mister Don’t Look at My Art.’
‘It’s not art.’ He sounds mortified. ‘It’s photojournalism.’
‘Call it what you like, they’re great pictures. And I don’t even like sports.’
He gives me a sideways look. ‘Really? Which one did you like best?’
I glance up at Kali and find her engrossed in conversation with Caleb. ‘The one where the football player just scored a touchdown,’ I say. ‘It’s a perfect moment in time.’
‘That’s what I was aiming for. The hardest part is being patient long enough to let those moments happen. You can’t force it.’
I nod. My mediation work is like that. You have to get everything into position and then let things unfold. Trying to rush the process always derails it. ‘Are you going to study journalism?’
‘Who knows? Right now it’s fun. If I make it official, it becomes work.’
‘When you love something enough, it probably never becomes work. That’s how I feel about baking, anyway.’
‘So you’re going to make the world a better place one cupcake at a time?’
‘Why not?’
‘Everyone loves a baker,’ he says. ‘At least, I do.’
He smiles, and I feel it again. Something is definitely stirring for Brody that did not stir for Andrew.
The receptionist calls for Hannibal, and Caleb takes a pair of thick oven mitts out of his backpack before picking up the crate. Kali opens the door to the examination room for him.
‘Doesn’t Caleb remind you of Owen Gaines?’ she asks. ‘You know, his build and the way he walks? I wonder if he can sing.’
The pizzas arrive a few minutes later. Brody offers some to the staff and sends a couple of pieces back for Syd and Caleb.
‘Brody makes a wicked goat cheese pizza,’ Kali says. ‘He even makes his own dough.’ She ignores my warning look and forges on. ‘You should make it for Zahra sometime, Brody.’
Brody shakes his head. ‘There is no way I will ever cook my signature dish for Zahra.’
I knew it. Kali just gave him an opening to skewer me again.
Then Brody amends his statement. ‘At least, not until she publicly admits she used my ideas for her squares without sharing credit.’
Kali laughs. ‘Just give it up, Z. He’ll never let this go if you don’t.’
‘Fine,’ I say, biting into my pizza. ‘I guess you inspired me to experiment in a new direction. I’ll footnote the recipe card.’
‘Do it and the pizza is yours,’ he says. ‘All you can eat.’
His eyes lock on mine, and my stomach does an odd rolling dance. Hot peppers are always so risky.
I can feel Kali watching us, upgrading our compatibility quotient. But then Brody’s phone rings and breaks the spell. It’s on the coffee table in front of us, and I can see the call display: Juliette.
Tossing a half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box, he grabs the phone and steps outside. ‘Hey,’ he says, as the door closes. ‘Still on for tonight?’
My hormones may be running again, but they’re obviously misfiring horribly.
I barely have time to beat myself up, though, before Syd reappears. She sits down across from me and drops her face into her hands.
And if there is anything sadder than a pissed-off-at-the-world rebel crying as if her heart would break, I hope I never live to see it.