Nydia knew Lamar was a regular customer when he was greeted by a number of men and women seated at the bar and tables. She hadn’t missed the curious stares and whispers when they saw her with him.
“Hey, Pierce,” the bartender called out. “Where have you been hiding her?”
Lamar waved to the man as he led Nydia to a round table for two and helped seat her. “What do you feel like eating?”
Nydia met his eyes across the table. The bartender questioning Lamar about seeing him with her confirmed his declaration that he did not date. He’d claimed he wasn’t dating, but did that also extend to her? That tonight she wasn’t a date to him?
She moved the lighted oil candle to the middle of the table. “Is there a menu?”
Lamar pointed to a far wall. “The menu is on the whiteboard.”
She studied the handwritten selections. “What is the mess?”
“A little bit of this and that.”
“Please explain this and that.”
“Fried chicken, catfish, crab, shrimp, oysters, okra, and grilled corn.”
Nydia scrunched up her nose. “It sounds like a lot of food.”
Lamar chuckled. “What it sounds like is goodness.”
“You’ve had it?” He nodded.
“Okay. I’ll have the mess.”
Lamar signaled a passing waiter heading for the kitchen. “We’ll have the mess for two.” He returned his attention to Nydia. “All meals come with a complimentary pitcher of beer, but if you want something stronger then I’ll order it from the bar.”
Nydia recalled the two times she’d overindulged during her visits to New Orleans. She’d sampled her first hurricane and felt the effects almost immediately. And she’d overindulged on champagne at Hannah’s wedding reception, which left her lethargic and slightly hung over the next day.
“Beer is okay.”
“You don’t drink much.” Lamar’s query came out as a statement.
“It all depends on what I’m drinking. I have a two-glass limit when it comes to wine and champagne, while I’m barely able to finish a hurricane or Sazerac.”
“Did you ever do shots as a college student?”
Nydia shook her head. “I never drank until I was twenty-one.”
“How old were you when you graduated college?”
“Twenty-one. I took AP courses in high school and graduated college in four years with a BA and MBA.”
“So, you were a nerd.”
“It takes one to know one,” Nydia countered with a wide grin. “And don’t deny you weren’t a nerd, Lamar.”
“There’s no shame in my game.”
Nydia’s response was preempted when their server returned with a pitcher of beer and two frosted mugs and set them on the table. “Your mess is coming right up.”
Lamar filled one mug and gave it to her before filling the other with the sudsy brew. He raised his glass in a toast. “Salud.”
“To health,” Nydia said in English.
Within minutes of their toast the table was filled with a heaping platter of crispy fried food, plates, place settings, and napkins. Lamar mentioning goodness had not even come close to describing the items that made up the mess. Nydia found her taste buds bombarded with a plethora of flavors. The spicy and crispy Cajun-brined chicken was deep-fried perfection. The shrimp and oysters literally melted on her tongue. She ate slowly, savoring every morsel she put into her mouth.
