Page 135 of Promising You
When we get to Garret’s house, his dad isn’t there yet. Katherine’s there, unhappy to see us as usual. But she puts on her fake smile and tells us that her husband will be home shortly.
We go straight to the kitchen where Charles, the family cook, is already prepping dinner.
“What are you two doing here?” he asks when he sees us.
“We came to talk to my dad but he’s not home yet.”
“Hi, Charles,” I say.
He nods and smiles as he cuts carrots into thin coins. I like Charles a lot. He’s in his fifties and although he doesn’t have kids, he seems like he’d be a good dad or a good uncle. He’s super friendly and easy to talk to.
“Jade’s missed your cooking, Charles. You got any leftovers for us?” Garret opens the door of one of the massive refrigerators.
“You don’t have to eat leftovers. I’ll make whatever you want. What would you like?” He puts his knife down and wipes his hands on the kitchen towel hanging from his shoulder.
“Ask Jade. She’s the sick one.”
“I’m not sick,” I insist. “Would you stop saying that?”
“Are you feeling any better?” Charles asks.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“She’s not fine,” Garret says to Charles. He takes two sodas from the fridge. “She couldn’t even remember what day my birthday is. She’s suffering from major memory loss.”
Garret hands me a soda, smiling before taking a sip of his own.
“It’s August 22,” Charles says.
“See? Charles remembers what day it is.”
I give Garret a look to cut it out. I already feel bad enough for not knowing. We talk about maybe getting married someday and I didn’t even know his birthday or his favorite color.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
“My mother usedto make grilled cheese sandwiches when I was sick,” Charles says.
“I’m not sick,” I mumble.
“My mom did, too,” Garret says. “Jade, you like grilled cheese?”
“I love grilled cheese.”
“We’ll have two grilled cheese if it’s not too much trouble,” Garret says to Charles.
I’m expecting a couple thin slices of white bread with a slice of bright orange processed cheese, but that’s not how Charles makes it. He uses thick slices of homemade bread that he slathers with real butter and tops with white cheddar cheese that he cuts from a large block. The resulting sandwich is much better than the ones I grew up eating.
As we finish up lunch, Pearce walks in the kitchen. Charles nods hello at him as he walks by.
“Hey, Dad,” Garret says. “We’re almost done.”
“No rush,” he says. “I’ll be in my office. Just come in when you’re ready. How are you doing, Jade?”
“Fine.” I cover my mouth, which is stuffed with the homemade cookies Charles gave us for dessert.
Pearce takes a bottle of water from the fridge and leaves.
Charles points to the tray of cookies. “I’ll wrap some of those up for you to take back. In fact, I’ll make up a whole box of things. I have some brownies and some caramel nut bars. Would you like some as well, Garret?”
