I already knew Elijah was going to divulge the fennel before we even left the market, so my ingredient had to be off-the-charts challenging if I wanted to adequately prepare Gabriella for the contest.
Just as I was pondering my options at an herb stand, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with Richard.
“Joyce! Fancy seeing you here,” he greeted me warmly. “What brings you to the farmers market?”
“Actually, we’re doing this cooking challenge to help Gabriella prepare for her next contest,” I explained, my excitement shining through. “Elijah, Gabriella, and I are picking out secret ingredients for each other; with Gabriella’s guidance, we’re gonna make a meal out of them. It’s like that cooking show,Chopped. You ever seen it?” I asked like I’d seen many an episode.
“Can’t say that I have,” Richard said.
I laughed and admitted, “Neither have I.”
Richard joined in my chortling. “Sounds like fun, though. Mind if I help you pick out something?”
“Sure, I’d appreciate the input,” I replied, grateful forthe company. Optimism chased away a fleeting shadow of apprehension.
We wandered the market together, discussing various possibilities. At one point, Richard picked up a bag of dried chilies, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“How about these?” he suggested. “They’ll definitely add some heat to the challenge.”
“Those look perfect,” I agreed, but then hesitated. “Although we’re working with a limited kitchen setup right now. We don’t have an oven.”
“No? Is there something wrong with your oven?”
Suddenly, I felt my shoulders tense with his words. He had that move-aside-and-let-me-fix-it tone, one that I recognized well from my ex-husband. Though Richard’s question didn’t come with the condescending glare that usually accompanied Eric’s solutions, it triggered me nonetheless. “Oh, we’ll be fine.”
“Joyce, are you okay?” Richard said, his brow creasing with concern.
“Really, it’s fine,” I replied quickly, not wanting to delve into my current living situation. “We make do with what we have.”
“All right, if you say so,” Richard relented, still looking worried.
I took the chilies from him and dropped them into my basket.
“I can’t wait to hear how this meal turns out,” he said.
“Thanks, Richard,” I responded, feeling grateful for his support. All the while, I scolded myself for how quickly I’d shoved my new friend’s concern aside. What if he knew a master oven-installer? A reputable electrician who wasn’t flirty or mean? How long would we stay friends if I kept shoving him away?
“Richard,” I said, struck by a sudden impulse, “why don’t you come over for dinner tonight and taste the results of our challenge?”
He hesitated, looking thoughtful. “I might be able to make it, but I’m not sure. Depends on how the rest of my afternoon goes with my errands.”
“All right, no pressure,” I replied, trying to sound casual despite the fear rising in my throat.Have I hurt his feelings?
We continued walking together toward the checkout line, discussing our respective days. When it was my turn to pay, I made sure to have my mystery item bagged separately in a brown sack to keep it hidden from Gabriella and Elijah until the big reveal later.
“Thanks, Richard,” I said. “I hope we can make something interesting with these ingredients.”
“You’ve got quite the challenge. I’ll let you know if I’m free.”
“Like I said, no pressure either way. Have a good one.”
“You, too, Joyce.”
That evening, Gabriella, Elijah, and I gathered in the kitchen, revealing our chosen ingredients. The countertop was littered with a seemingly mismatched assortment of items: fennel, dried chilies, peaches, and lamb.
“Wow. This is so all so odd,” Elijah declared. “Dried chilies, Grandma? Really?”
“Okay, team,” Gabriella announced, rolling up her sleeves. “Let’s put our heads together and figure out how we can turn this into a meal. Ideas?”
