Even by objective standards, and not just his mother’s opinion, Bennett Thompson had accomplished quite a lot by the time he hit forty-two. He had started his own business, growing a one-man plumbing operation into a full-service home repair operation with twelve employees. He’d coached his son’s little league team three seasons in a row. And recently he’d enrolled in an online course to learn French. Not that he’d had occasion to speak a foreign language while snaking drains and painting houses in Luckettville, but he was hopeful that one day he and his wife, Rose, would have the opportunity to visit Paris. Anyway, one thing Bennett Thompson had not done before he hit forty-two was plan a surprise party.

He got the idea after Rose came home a few weeks earlier, breathless with the details about a surprise trip their friend Hiram had given his wife, Sonya. Turns out he sent Sonya on a Caribbean cruise with her mother and sisters, complete with facials, pedicures, and in-room massages. Even extra spending money for shopping when they docked at the various ports. Bennett knew he couldn’t compete with that—Hiram came from old money, not that Bennett resented him, of course—but maybe he could pull off a party for their family and close friends for Rose’s upcoming birthday. After all Rose had sacrificed over the years to help Bennett get the business off the ground, it was the least he could do for her. How hard could it be?

Soon Bennett found himself up late at night, after Rose and the kids had gone to bed, surfing online for party planning tips and menus. He watched the cooking channel a couple of times, jotting down notes if Rose wasn’t in the room. Always one to cover his bases, Bennett also put in a call to Honey Holcomb over at Honey’s Bakery and Café.

“Lawd, Bennett,” Honey said when Bennett told her what he had in mind. “I’ve spent countless hours, years in fact, perfecting my cooking and party-planning skills, and you think you can pull this off after a couple of Internet searches and a few minutes of television?”

Bennett had to admit he hadn’t stopped to think about it that way and instead was planning to rely on his instincts and a little luck. Maybe hire a caterer, if worse came to worst. But he really wanted to cook it all himself if possible. That’s how much Rose meant to him.

“I should offer cooking classes for men,” Honey continued. “That would save us all so much heartache. And bellyaches too!” Sometimes Honey cracked herself up, without regard for whether anyone else was laughing.

“I can call it ‘Honey Cooks It Up with the Boys.’ You be sure to come, Bennett. If you do it I bet Hiram and the others will too.”

Bennett didn’t have the heart to tell Honey that he’d rather do just about anything other than spend hours in the kitchen with Hiram, but he needed her help so he said, “Count me in” before he realized what he was doing. He managed to get Honey to agree to e-mail him some suggestions before she hung up, eager as she was to get started on the publicity for her newest class. She also promised to help him out if he got in a bind with the cake, although she said it’d be a downright embarrassment to her good name if Bennett couldn’t follow the recipes she had in mind for his little surprise party.

Bennett himself wasn’t so sure when he got the recipes from Honey, but he soldiered on, making practice dishes over at his mother’s house so Rose wouldn’t catch on. Rose did think it curious, though, that day when she dropped by her mother-in-law’s place unexpectedly only to find Bennett in the kitchen.

“I’m helping Mother get ready for the upcoming bake sale over at All Souls Chapel,” he said when Rose asked him what he was doing there in the middle of a workday. Her mother-in-law was speechless, which was a first, so Rose suspected something was up. But like most mothers of young children, Rose was too busy to wonder very long and before she could pepper Bennett and his mother with additional questions she realized she was late for the pickup line at school.

“That was close,” said Bennett.

“Yes,” said his mother, picking up a piece of the beef tenderloin and dunking it in the horseradish dip while making an “mmm” sound.

After they taste tested the cornmeal cups with black bean salsa and washed it all down with pineapple tea punch, Bennett was convinced he could recreate the menu for the surprise party when the time came. He could do anything, he thought to himself as they cleaned up the kitchen. Just like his mamma always told him.

“That’s my boy,” she said, putting away the last mixing bowl.

And so it came to pass that at the appointed time the guests parked their cars around the block and entered the Thompsons’ house through the back door, using the key Bennett had left under the mat. Yes, Rose was startled when her family and friends yelled out, “Happy Birthday,” and yes, she was surprised when she found out Bennett had made all the food himself. But mostly she was shocked when Bennett handed her two first-class tickets to Paris. She had wondered why he’d been speaking French in the bathroom when he thought she couldn’t hear him, and why there was a new English-French language app on the family computer. For a while she worried that Bennett might be having an affair. But Rose didn’t know any French women in Luckettville, and when it came down to it, she trusted Bennett. Now she realized the only thing Bennett had been concealing from her was that he knew his way around the kitchen. That’s the kind of secret a girl can live with.