Page 26 of A Recipe Called Home
Her pulse racing, Jules couldn’t keep her eyes off Miles as he tidied up the stage. She loved seeing him now as a grown man but hearing him sing their song brought back the young man she used to love, the one she’d counted on for four years, right until he’d broken her trust. The rapid switch in perspective left her confused but intrigued to know more about the man he’d grown into. Maybe she’d been too harsh on him all those years ago? It was hard to tell now that they were twelve years removed and all that remained was a haze of unreliable memories.
Jax announced last call as Jules made her way back to the stage, raw emotions still just below the surface. They didn’t say anything as Miles packed up his guitar. They didn’t need to.
The place was almost empty now, so they relocated to the bar. What looked like a few regulars lingered at the other end, looking to get one last round in before Jax kicked them out. Roxy pulled up another stool.
“Done for the night?” Miles asked, tipping his head to Roxy.
“Heck yes. My ankles are so swollen you can’t tell where my feet end and legs begin,” she said, looking exhausted.
“You’re a trooper. I think I’d be on the floor even if I weren’t growing a small child,” Jules said with a genuine smile.
Roxy laughed. “Well, this place is like my first child. Very demanding and rarely lets me sleep, yet I still love it.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Jules responded, not knowing what that must feel like.
Roxy turned to Miles. “Speaking of demanding, I was going to ask if you might be free for the Bear Ball in two weeks? It’s on Saturday. We could use some help getting ready for it and would love it if you could play a while after the dinner service.”
“Of course, I was already planning to attend so I could drum up more donations for the band, but I’d love to play as well. I can even bring a few more musicians for a trio.”
The Bear Ball was the school district’s annual fundraiser for the arts and music departments and had been a tradition for decades. Each year, the event sponsors tried to outdo the previous year’s event, growing it into a swanky gala-style night, even for Riverbend standards. Now, attendees dressed up in suits and long gowns for a fancy dinner and the opportunity to hobnob with the mayor and school superintendent.
Tickets weren’t cheap, and this year, the pressure was even more intense to elevate the night because funding for the programs was at a historic low and they needed donations. Miles mentioned that the stakes were high for not only his band but the entire arts program. That’s why he had suggested hosting it at the Golden Kernel instead of the community center, which didn’t have as much capacity.
Rubbing her belly, Roxy joked she hoped her second child didn’t decide to make an early entrance before the big night. There was too much to do and so much food to cook. Jax joined them after the last of the customers had filed out.
Jules sipped a glass of water as they all chatted, filling each other in on their respective evenings. Roxy told them about the couple who were caught hooking up in the men’s restroom earlier that night. Turns out their spouses had been waiting for them at the bar when the woman’s husband got anxious and walked in on them. Apparently, it caused quite a scene and gave the staff some entertainment for the evening. While the they talked, Miles found a reason to touch Jules either on the knee, arm, or squeeze her side when she poked fun at him every few minutes. It was distracting in the best way.
After a while, the conversation shifted to Jules and what she did in D.C., which seemed to fascinate Roxy and Jax, although made Jules feel like an uppity fake in comparison.
“You know, Jules is an excellent cook,” Miles quipped, draping his arm over the back of her chair as Jules’ cheeks went hot. “She’s been cooking with her Italian grandma a lot since she came home, but it’s always been in her blood.”
“Oh, really? That’s wonderful!” Roxy said with a glint in her eye that suggested she was being genuine.
“It’s just a hobby I picked up when I was young. My grandma grew up in the restaurant industry. Her father owned a place in Chicago years ago.”
“On the north side?” Jax asked.
“I think so. He sold it decades ago, so I never visited.”
“That neighborhood has changed so much, but I used to love going to the markets near there. So many more options than what we can get fresh here,” Roxy said, twirling her hands in the apron that she’d yet to take off. “It’s my one big complaint about living here!”
Jules couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they all seemed, like they all belonged. She was beginning to feel at ease, too, drinking the last of her water. After a few more minutes of talk about the gastropub and Roxy’s pregnancy woes, Miles and Jules headed towards the door. The night air was crisp, with just a hint of a chill. It felt glorious on Jules’ face as she took a large breath to steady herself once outside. Now is when she’d find out where the night would take her: back to the twin bed waiting for her at her grandma’s or perhaps another bed?
Feeling unsure of herself, Jules lingered on the front patio, pretending to check her phone to kill some time.
“Is Rosa alright?” Miles asked.
“Oh yes, I’m sure she’s fine. She texted about an hour ago saying she was heading to bed." Teenage-like butterflies swept through her stomach, which she hadn’t felt in years.
“Well, if you don’t have to go back right away, maybe you’d want to come see my new place?” He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised in that sexy way of his. So nonchalant but full of meaning.
Jules managed a steady and confident, “Sure. I’d like that,” before following him to the car, grateful she at least sounded in control, although her hands trembled in anticipation.
The house looked completely different from the last time she saw it years ago. Gone were the garden gnomes that used to litter the yard. Instead, the luscious grass was neatly manicured, with flower beds full of trimmed bushes and large rocks lining the front entrance. The once-yellow siding had been replaced with clean white wooden slats that contrasted against the black front door and windowpanes. It looked both modern and classical, much like Miles himself.
“Wow, this looks beautiful. You did all of this?” Jules asked, sitting in the driveway, gaping at the house.
“Mostly, but I had some help from people around town. It’s still a work in progress, but I’m happy with the way it’s turning out. It’s finally feeling like mine.”
