Page 38 of Halstead House

I raised my eyebrows. “I think your therapy sessions might kill me.”

“Nah. I’m seeing improvements every day.”

“May I offer some feedback for the future?”

“Why not?”

“Clients don’t appreciate you promising a celebration activity and then surprising them with another therapy session cloaked as fun.”

She made a thoughtful face and playfully rubbed at her chin. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

I returned to the menu. “So, really, what should I try?”

“Well, if you trust me, I’ll order for both of us,” she offered, and I nodded. “You allergic to anything?” I shook my head. “Great. Prepare to be amazed.”

Ana ordered, and while we were waiting on our food we watched the dancers on the floor. Songs alternated between fast songs, line dancing, and slow songs where couples moved together to the music. Some couples were fun to watch, their complicated dance steps showing a lot of skill. Other couples seemed to think the dance floor was their own private love space, making me distinctly uncomfortable.

When our food came Ana explained the various dishes. Blackened catfish, steaming jambalaya, fried green tomatoes, creamed corn, and hush puppies filled the small table top. Last were the beignets, fried dough covered in clouds of powered sugar that I’d always wanted to sample. My eyes grew large at the display.

“We’ll never be able to eat all of this,” I said as I looked up at Ana’s happy face.

“That’s not the point, Grace. The point is to try all the things. If you have to unbutton your jeans and roll out of this place, then it was a successful night.”

I looked back at all the food and felt a smile begin to lift my lips. “Okay. I’m game. What should I try first?”

“Doesn’t matter. Try it all.”

I loaded my plate with spoonfuls of everything. I followed Ana’s lead, using my fork for some dishes and picking up the hush puppies and fried green tomatoes with my fingers. If Mother could see me now, hair down, wearing jeans, eating with my fingers while people danced all around me, well, I wasn’t sure shewasgoing to get her ‘real’ Grace home after all of this.

Our conversation was relaxed and comfortable as we stuffed ourselves full. Turns out I’d worked up quite the appetite playing show and tell. The crowd continued to grow, and before we had finished eating, all the tables were filled. The dance floor surged with people, and that end of the workweek feeling grew.

“So, Grace, what do you think of this place?” Ana asked as she leaned back in her chair and patted her stomach.

“It’s definitely eye-opening,” I answered, taking a sip of water and leaning back myself.

“Worthy of a celebration dinner?” she said with a grin.

“Yes. Even if you did try to sneak attack therapy me.”

Ana started to reply, but her grin faltered as she looked over my shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something, but a low male voice beat her to the punch.

“Hello, ladies. What a surprise finding the two of you here tonight.” Jonathan’s smiling face came into view as he stepped from behind me to stand next to our table.

“Hi, Jonathan.” Ana’s greeting was pleasant if not exactly happy.

He turned his gaze to me, and my stomach felt full of wiggly worms. The gummy type, not the gross slimy ones. “What brings you two out tonight?” he asked.

“I’m celebrating,” I replied. I felt shy, remembering that the last time I’d seen him he’d wanted to take me out.

“What’s the special occasion?” He snagged a chair that wasn’t being used at a nearby table, tugged it over, and sat on it backwards, his arms resting against the back and his legs splayed, confidence and charisma oozing from his pores.

I suddenly felt ridiculous and didn’t want to tell him. “Um, well, just a good day at work,” I replied.

“It’s worth celebrating when those come around.” He nodded. “Looks like you’ve got a great spread here.” He gestured to the food with a slight flick of the wrist.

“I liked it a lot. Ana ordered and had me try some of everything,” I replied.

“You hungry?” Ana asked. “We hardly made a dent.” Her words were polite, but her tone less so. My gaze shot to her, but she was looking at Jonathan in a way I couldn’t decipher. This was the first I’d seen of Ana without her more-the-merrier attitude.

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