Page 43 of Finding Yesterday
“Can’t you just stop by for a minute? It’ll take no time to taste the chili and see what we’ve done.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Cool.” I blow out a breath.
“Wait, no, actually, I can’t. I forgot, I’ve got to get Dylan set up at Daddy’s house for the night. He needs dinner and everything.”
“Can I call Nate and ask him if you guys can be late? I’m sure he won’t mind. He’sNate.” I know my insistence on having Emma here doesn’t make sense, things are going so well. I don’t know why I’m so desperate for her approval.
She exhales. “But I’m helping Nate with his new songs. I just don’t think I can be late tonight. I’m so sorry, Claire, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Sure, Em.” I straighten the already perfectly stacked bowls. Of course I don’t want to ruin Nate’s big night either. And it’s not like I can’t tell them all about this later. Emma’s right—Nate needs her right now and I’ll be fine. “I understand. You guys be careful driving.”
“We will. And we’ll celebrate as soon as you get home, which I know is happening because I’m sure you’ll win.”
“Are you though?”
“Of course I am,” she bites back. “Your chili is incredible.”
Emma does believe in my cooking—that part is true. And I know she has a good reason for not stopping by, but I can’t shake the sense that in this family, I’m always an afterthought. But I guess that’s my issue, not hers. “Okay. I gotta go. Love you.”
“You’ve got this. Love you too, baby sis. Text me, okay?”
“Okay.” I disconnect.
I’m disappointed, but I really don’t have time to wallow. Jack is calling my name, so I rush back.
When I return to our booth, we get swamped, and fast. The judges are now making their rounds, and I recognize a few of them. They all know Jack, which has to either help us or hurt us.
After seeing their intense faces, I get so nervous I’m aching to sniff a cup of Jack’s chili. I need to know if it’s good enough to win, not that I’ve smelled any of the other meat-based chilis.
I look around, scanning for a distraction. “Hey, Jack, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve heard the meat chili two booths down is really good. Can you go try it and see how it compares to yours?”
His head darts over and back. “Right. Good idea.” He gives me a thumbs-up as he rushes away. With the judges gone and a lull in the flow of festival-goers, I serve up a sample of Jack’s chili. Crouching in the corner, I inhale the smell, and sweet mercy, I’m in love. I push aside my objections for the moment as I close my eyes and take in the scent of a perfect combination of seasonings and flavors.
I look up to see Jack standing over me, his jaw gaping open. “Claire,” he says, his eyes popping out of his head.
“I’m just sniffing it, back off.” I wave him away. “This has a shot,” I say, trying to sound like I was pretending to be a judge.
He leans in, narrowing his gaze. “Wait. You like meat.”
“No,” I reply unconvincingly.
A corner of his mouth ticks up. “Youlovemeat.”
“Fine! I love the smell and flavor of meat, okay? This is the best-smelling chili I’ve ever sniffed.” My voice is squeaky, and there’s a lump growing in my throat. I cover my face in my hands. “I’m a hypocrite.”
Jack fights off a smile as he approaches. “You know, it actually means much more that you don’t eat meat when you love it. You’re making a much bigger sacrifice than those who don’t like it. If you ask me, that’s the opposite of a hypocrite.”
I smile, feeling a little better. “You really think so?”
“I really do.” He points to my face. “But you have a little sauce on your nose.”
“Of course.” I take a napkin and wipe it away. “Okay, no more sniffing for me.” I stand.
