Page 55 of Unwrapped

“Are you ready to eat, Ms. America?” he asks, looking at his wife. “We’ll eat in the kitchen,” Nigel announces. “And Andrew, find a gal. You’re almost thirty. Give me some damn grandchildren before I die.”

CHAPTER 35

NICK

“I’d like to cook breakfast for everyone Christmas morning. Just a thank you for letting me spend Christmas here.” I pick up Miranda’s hand from my lap and kiss it. “I’m having a good time with you guys.”

“Nicky,” Miranda says, looking around the table, “Daddy doesn’t like for anyone messing around in his kitchen.”

“That’s right. I don’t want you three messing around in my kitchen”—Nigel says pointing at his wife and kids— “but Nick made a good meal when we were over there the other day. He knows what he’s doing in the kitchen, unlike you three. Breakfast would be great.”

Nigel Moore has made a decadent meal of red beans and rice and two different chicken dishes. He serves a spicy jerk chicken and one in a rich curry sauce unlike any I’ve ever had before. I greedily eat them both.

Halfway through dinner, the woman who was at the mall with them last week comes walking in with two teenage boys and the same little girl.

“Who’s the guy?” she asks, offering me her hand. I can feel Miranda stiffen beside me. “Isn’t he the one we ran into at the mall? Your boss, Mona?”

“And Miranda’s boyfriend,” Andrew offers.

“Nice to see you again, Vanessa,” I say.

“You go, girl,” Vanessa says, winking at Miranda. “These are my kids,” Vanessa says, introducing me. The little girl, Tandy, smiles shyly at me, then she goes and sits on Mona’s lap.

Mona kisses the top of her head, and everyone else finds a seat at the table.

“I have a question,” I say to the table. “Nigel, why do you call Mona Ms. America?”

Mona blushes, but her kids both groan and sigh dramatically.

“Oh, please, Daddy. Not that story,” Miranda moans.

“Well, he asked, so I’m going to tell him,” Nigel says, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen. He looks at Mona and winks at her before he starts talking. “We met at a Fourth of July barbeque my brother and I were throwing. We had just bought a fixer-upper together and he wanted to have a party. Imagine this fine woman walking into the backyard. She walked wearing the shortest jumper I’ve ever seen, made out of the American flag. The only downside was that she walked in holding hands with some clown. As soon as he stepped away, I approached.”

“The first words he ever said to me were, ‘you want something to drink, Ms. America. You look thirsty.’” Mona practically swoons at the memory.

“You should have seen the way she turned up her nose at me. She left me standing in the middle of the yard holding a bottle of water.”

“He was sweaty and gross,” Mona says, defending herself.

“Anyway,” Nigel continues, “that idiot she came with ended up getting so drunk, he passed out somewhere inside the house. I might have been the one who kept giving him drinks. While he slept, I very graciously offered to take the beautiful lady home. When I got to the front of her house, I kissed her good.” Miranda and Andrew both make faces. “I told her she was with me from now on, and she said—”

“I said, ‘in your dreams, buddy,’ and slammed the car door in his face.” Everyone at the table says the phrase all at once.

“The next day, I picked her up at work. I was waiting for her in the parking lot when she got out. I offered to take her to dinner. That did the trick because she got in the car.”

“I thought he was taking me out for a burger, but he drove me home to this lavish dinner he cooked.”

“And I’ve been cooking her meals since.”

“Hold on,” I say. “How did you know where she worked?”

“Remember I told you she was dating a clown? Well, he was also a wimp. He was still passed out cold on my couch when I got home from dropping her off. I threw some water on him, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the wall. He told me everything I wanted to know. See, Mona. That clown wasn’t worthy of you. He’s lucky I didn’t kick his ass.”

“I don’t even remember his name, Nigel,” Mona says, rolling her eyes.

“His name is Bozo, Mrs. Good Stuff.” He leans over and kisses her on the cheek. “You think you’re so tough.”

“Please, enough with the Mrs. Good Stuff,” Andrew says

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