“Oh, Marie,” she moaned through a full mouth. “That is…holy crap.”
I smiled. “Good?”
“Not good. Incredible.” She looked at the others like she wanted to eat them all right now. “It’s like Nonna’s, but better.” Her eyes suddenly welled, and she gasped, overcome.
“Really?” Coming from Lea, this was beyond high praise, better than any review.
“Absolutely. I can’t believe you just made me cry withfood.”
“Food is special,” I said as I went back to dredging the other hearts. “It makes us feel a lot.”
“No,you’respecial. You’re going to kill it wherever you end up, Marie. The Lyons family don’t know what they’re missing, but someone else will snatch you up in a second if that’s what you can do. Damn.”
Now I was about to cry as I dropped two more artichokes into the oil. Thankfully, I was saved when my phone buzzed in my back pocket.
Lea took over while I cleaned my hands, then checked my messages, figuring it was from Joni, wondering when I’d be coming by tonight.
Daniel’s name on the screen shoved a fist through my heart.
Heard you just got back from Paris. Can I see you? Want to make things right.
I stared at the message for a long moment, then showed it to Lea.
“This is the older one you love now or the younger one you used to?”
“The younger one I thought I loved before I learned what love actually meant.” I looked back at the message. “He’s getting married soon to that girl he knocked up. I wonder what he wants.”
“Oh, honey.” Lea looked genuinely sorry for me. “What do you want to do?”
I started to say, “I don’t know,” but quickly realized I knew exactly what my answer would be:
Sure. Lunch tomorrow if you can come into the city?
I put my phone back in my pocket. Daniel’s answer could wait until I finished with more important things.
“It’ll be fine,” I told Lea as we went back to cooking. “I’ll figure it out in the end.”
My hands were strangely steady as I finished the rest of the meal. But I couldn’t help glancing at my pocket every so often, wondering if another message might come through. From the brother who would still make my heart ache if I let him.
36
SHOYU RAMEN
*the longer the broth cooks, the more complex the flavor.
The ramen shop on Amsterdam Avenue was the kind of place that looked unassuming from the outside but served some of the best noodles in the city. I’d suggested it to Daniel partly because it was close to Joni and Nathan’s apartment, where I was staying until I solidified my plans, but mostly because it felt neutral.
I arrived first and chose a table near the window, watching the mix of Upper West Side foot traffic while I waited. Mothers pushing strollers, Columbia students with oversized backpacks, professionals grabbing late lunches. All part of the New York life I was planning to leave permanently.
I had stayed in Paris with Louis for another few days following the disaster that happened in Lucas’s hotel room. But by the time I came home, I had a plan. And my conversation with Lea only made it stronger.
After dinner, Lea and I sat in her living room while each of us made separate bids for help from our wealthier family members.Matthew and Nina had practically fallen over each other to give her money to help with the kids. While Lea would only accept enough to cover grief therapy for the boys and some extra childcare for Lupe, it was obviously a weight off her shoulders. Maybe we wouldn’t lose her to Idaho after all.
I, on the other hand, had a very different conversation with Frankie and Xavier, in which I made a proposal of another kind. One that shocked everyone. I announced my plans to move to France permanently, gain some experience, and find a village where I could open the little place I wanted.
“I don’t need money,” I told them. “With the ‘severance pay’ Mrs. Lyons gave me, I’ll be fine. But the experience part…Xavier, I’d like to take you up on your offer to help me find a place that has good food and a chef willing to let me apprentice for a while. I was hoping you could put a word in with someone you might know down there.”
After they recovered from their shock, Xavier had only one thing to say: “It’s about fucking time.”
