“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“I’d say more like hobbled.”
She just shook her head and smiled while facing the window, thinking I couldn’t see.
“You’re going to give in eventually,” I said while helping her out of the car with her crutches.
“Why? We already have a child and live together. If we get married, the girls from years ago ... may find out.”
“So the fuck what.”
“Let’s just go to my appointment, okay?”
Another week had passed and Jules was gearing up for both of our moms to come visit. Her mom hadn’t seen Darla in at least two years, and my mom didn’t even know she had a grandchild until a month ago.
To say Jules was tense would be the understatement of the year. The only time I’d seen her take a deep breath was when I said, “My mom is staying at the Boca Beach Club. This isn’t fancy enough for her, plus she needs maid service.”
Mom was single at the moment, and I was certain she’d be spending her free time searching for husband number four.
Other than hanging with Darla, Jules had holed up in the kitchen, cooking and baking and cooking some more. Apparently, making a mess provided her some sort of tension relief.
“I’m home,” I called as I walked into the house after I slipped out of work around three.
“Hey,” Jules said, out of breath and breathtaking in the kitchen. She wore tight-as-hell yoga pants and a long tank, an apron tied tight at the waist, and her hair up in her famous messy bun.
“Dar home yet?”
“She’s going to Sydney’s house today to play and have dinner, remember? She was going to go tomorrow, but you scheduled a tennis lesson.”
“Right.” Truthfully, I wanted Darla home all the time. Fuck playdates. Better she be with me, but Jules said it was important.
And now I was thinking she was on to something, because she was looking sexy as fuck in our kitchen and we had hours to ourselves.
“Here, taste this.” Jules shoved a bite of muffin in my mouth.
I literally moaned. “This is good, better than good. What is it?”
“Zucchini and chocolate with a caramel ribbon.”
“Babe, you’re making food porn in here. Hope you’re not trying to make me fat.”
“Stop. Between you and your elliptical, you’ll never be fat. Plus, I love cooking, being at peace in the kitchen. It’s quiet and settling, so you’ll have to deal with the calories.”
“Give me some more,” I demanded, and she did.
“You know, last Friday I brought some of those carrot cookies with the cream cheese icing when I picked up Dar from her playdate? The mom went wild for them. She asked what else I do, and I told her I cook and bake all vegetarian.”
“Yeah?” I grabbed the spoon from the bowl and licked it.
“Drew, don’t.”
“Don’t tell me don’t. Tell me about the cookies.”
“She asked me if I would cater a dinner for her. A vegetarian Mexican night, complete with desserts. Queso and quesadillas with grilled vegetables and dips, and a few bean dishes. I got so excited over the prospect of it. Apparently, there are so many vegetarians and vegans down here, it’s not PC to serve meat.” Jules was so excited, she was practically dancing in place.
“Really?”
“I think I’m going to do it. If it goes well, I could start a vegetarian catering company. I could do that; I know food service. It’s all I know.”
