Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [16]
“Sweet dreams, Josie.”
“Count on it.”
Three
The stainless-steel kitchen of Dupré Catering was fragrant with the rich smell of a slow-baking praline pie. Every burner on the Sub-Zero stove held something equally as fragrant and tantalizing. Kitty was, as Josie put it, cooking up a storm. Hands on her hips, Kitty eyeballed her sister, and said, “Mama is probably spinning in her grave knowing you can’t even boil water, Josie. It’s not hard. What in the world are you going to do if you get married and your husband expects you to cook dinner for him. Well?” Kitty demanded when her sister stared at her with a blank expression.
“Well?” Kitty prodded.
“I’ll hire a cook. It’s natural for you. You love to cook and bake. I don’t. I can boil eggs and make coffee and toast. I’ll never starve as long as I can do that. So, tell me: What did you think of you know who?”
“Charming. He loves his dog. Any man who loves an animal is okay in my book. I’m sorry he left so quickly. I thought you said he was staying for breakfast. Bringing it and setting it on the table is something else. He picked up his dog and took off like the devil himself was on his heels.”
“He said something came up. Maybe the two of us intimidated him,” Josie said thoughtfully as she moved heavy crockery from one end of the long work counter to the other.
“Nothing can intimidate that man. Trust me. I think women tend to aggravate and frustrate him. I got that from between the lines of the article. I don’t think he could compete against a woman. Some men are like that. I know you’re going to give him a run for his money. Do you think maybe you could be a little less picky and give the guy a chance? You aren’t getting any younger, sister dear. That big number thirty is just months away.”
Josie moved the crockery back to the other end of the counter and then rearranged the stainless-steel utensils in a neat line. “So what’s all this?” she asked, pointing at the simmering pots.
“Some new things I’m trying out for the Brignacs’ Mardi Gras party. You said they wanted something different. I’ll bring a sample over later for Rosie to sniff for her seal of approval. If she likes it, we’ll go with it. If not, I’ll try something else. Whose turn is it to take the food over to the shelter?” Taking their test recipes to the homeless shelter was something they did every day.
“I did it on Friday, so it’s your turn. You were coming down with your cold, remember?”
“Yep, I do remember. The pie smells wonderful. Want a piece when it cools off?”
“No, I do not. These hips have all the extra padding they need. I’m going over to the cottage and start to plan Mrs. Lobelia’s Mardi Gras party. She just wants the standard stuff. I also want to try to get a couple of my newspaper articles written. If I’m ahead of the game, there won’t be as much pressure as last year. I think my first two recipes are going to be the ones you whipped up last week. I particularly like the crabmeat ravigote. It livens up the palate. Then I thought I’d do a robust, gutsy rub of some sort for all kinds of fish. I want to play with the ingredients a bit more. The main thing will be how the fish is cooked. I want it to be robust and sturdy, nothing subtle. If I come up with something, I’ll buzz you on the intercom. Did you think about a new cornmeal recipe at all?”
“I’m thinking along the lines of an open-faced Cajun crab pie with a buttered-down cornmeal crust. I’m not sure of the seasonings. I’m going to try out a few later on. It’ll look good on the packaging if I can get it to fly. By the way, what are you wearing this evening?”
“Whatever I can find in the closet. I’m not sprucing up if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Josie said as she opened the heavy metal door. “See you later.”
Josie looked around the backyard. Was it her imagination, or were the trees greener, the sun brighter? Was the air more fragrant than yesterday? To her eye the sky looked like a turquoise canopy. The birds overhead chittered happily. Did they always do that and she didn’t pay attention? Why was she noticing