“How are my favorite newlyweds?” he asked jovially, using that same line every night before serving us the dinners I’d prearranged with the resort. There would be no culinary surprises for me. The problem with personal chefs, I’d found, was they always wanted to get creative with their food selections, and I was anything but an adventurous eater. Give me the basics. I was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. The last thing I wanted was experimentation in mymouth.
Gabriel, ever the professional, abided by my wishes for dinner, but appetizers and between-course samplers were fair game in his book, and before I knew it, bite-sized nasties began showing up on my plate. I mean, was it so hard for him to grasp that not everyone enjoyed octopus tentacles sliding down their throats? Normally such behavior would rub me the wrong way, but not with Gabriel. He was too damn nice, like a friendly grandpa who spent his days doting over his grandchildren just because he could. When it came right down to it, I didn’t have the heart to offend him by not eating what he set on my plate. That’s not to say Iactuallyate the stuff, I just pretended to. While Casey gamely sampled his offerings, I was busy stuffing mine into napkins, as so many dogless children the world over had donebeforeme.
Regrettably, my silence on the issue only encouraged Gabriel’s creativity, as he believed I was actually enjoying his creations. Each day he brought forth bolder, moreFear Factor-worthy selections for me to try. We’d only been here three days and the dinner thing was already starting to stress me out. In desperation, I’d taken to stashing paper towels in my pants pockets. Since I never knew what was coming my way, I went into every meal prepared for the worst. As for Casey, she found my efforts insanely entertaining, as if I wasn’t doing it for my very survival but for her unbridledamusement.
So it was with great apprehension on my part when Gabriel presented Casey and me with a covered platter after dinner. I pictured the severed head of some exotic beast drizzled in apricot sauce, which was sure to be a delicacy somewhere in the world. I glanced down at my measly stash of paper towels. No way would they be enough to cover whatever monstrosity laybeneath.
“So first,” Gabriel began, moisture pooling in his eyes as he fanned his face. “Oh, gosh, I told myself I wouldn’t get emotional. You just mean so muchtome.”
I fidgeted with my paper towels. Oh, fuck, this was going tobebad.
“You two made this old man believe in love again.” Full-on tears were now squirting from his eyesockets.
“Ahh, Gabe,” Casey said, exiting her chair and flinging her arms over his burly shoulders. I wanted to remind them both that we’d only collectively known each other for three days, certainly not enough time to warrant sobbing. Nor was it enough time for Casey to have given him anickname.
“And…and I…” More weeping. “I madeacake…”
Oh, thank god! Just a cake. No maggot cheese in a bread bowl or embryo eggs dipped in bloodpudding.
“It’s okay,” Casey said, rubbing Gabriel’s back. “Nice easybreaths.”
Although I wasn’t a fan of sweets, I didn’t fear them either. So while Gabriel bawled, I shoved the paper napkins in my pocket and leaned back in my seat, feeling as though I’d just dodged a rather slimybullet.
“It was my mother’s favorite cake and became my signature dessert. Everybody just adores it, but my mother, you know, she… she passed away awhileback.”
Gabriel broke down again, forcing Casey to continue practicing her nurturing skills. Anticipating this might take a while, I pulled out my phone to check my messages when I sensed resentment focused at me. I glanced up to find Casey, her lips perched in a thin, terse line, motioning me over to their circle of love. My eyes widened. What the hell? Was I also expected to comfort him? Look, I felt for the man, I really did. Losing a parent, at any age, had to be devastating, but – I don’t think I can stress this enough – I’d known the man forthree days! I barely hugged my own father, and I was fully vestedinhim.
Like an ornery child, I shook my head. Casey’s eyes narrowed as she scowled in my direction. Not a good look on her, I might add. Meanwhile, Gabriel seemed totally oblivious to our non-verbal squabble as he continued with his heartbreaking tale. Apparently, this was no ordinary baked confection. Gabriel’s cake was a masterpiece of sorts, served to celebrities and politicians alike, and he rattled off a long list of famous names to prove it. Somehow I just knew that mine would be added to the roll call the next time he toldthistale.
Anyway, the story went something like this – or at least the condensed version did: the cake had been a special family recipe from his mother who, sadly, passed away two years ago. He hadn’t been able to bake it since her death, but seeing Casey and me so in love had inspired him to plug in the old mixing bowl again. Casey held his trembling body as a new wave of emotion played out. I hated to be cynical, but when I counted back how many hours, in total, we’d spent with the guy, I came up witheight.
And when the big reveal finally arrived, Gabriel proudly opened the lid to his baked marvel, a German chocolate cake, and although I was no baking expert, the brown creation topped with nuts and coconut was underwhelming even by my standards. It looked more like a hedgehog dipped in dirt than an edible dessert. When I looked to Casey to judge her reaction, she appeared as let down asIfelt.
“Oh, Gabriel, this looks fantastic,” she said, lying through her teeth. “We are so full right now, but I for one can’t wait to give it a try a little latertonight.”
“Nonsense! Surely you have room for one more bite to make an old man happy.” He was already cutting into the cake and extracting a slice. Resigned, I pulled the paper towels out of my pocket. I was going to need themafterall.
* * *
“Thanks so much,”Casey said at the door with Gabriel, as she tried to get him out of our suite. “It was justheavenly.”
“Oh, honey, you are an angel. My mama is smiling down on you tonight. I know it might be tough, but don’t fill up on too much cake because I’ll be back in the morning to prepare you both a wonderfulbrunch.”
“Yay!” Casey said, clapping her hands. From my seated position I mouthed ‘Yay’ and silently clapped, mocking her fake joy. Once the door shut, she flattened her back against it and covered her mouth with her hands. Our eyes met from across the room and smiles broke across ourfaces.
“Oh, my god! That was” – Casey said, as she walked back to me – “painful.”
“I blame you and your whole Dr.Philact.”
“What was I supposed to do? He was close to a breakdown, and it’s not like I could count on you and your ice-coldheart.”
“This is our honeymoon, Casey. I feel like we’re letting an emotionally disturbed chef get between us… and he carries knives. I’m justsaying.”
“Stop being dramatic. So, what did you think ofthecake?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s in mypocket.”
“What? I saw you put it in your mouth,” Casey said,laughing.
