Page 18 of Can't Kiss the Chef

What is that supposed to mean?

“How did I do on time?” Marcus comes barreling down the stairs with no respect for the mental spider web I’m trying to detangle.

Lola’s eyes drag from me to Marcus, her mood changing with the addition of someone else in the room.

“Indy is lucky to have a guy that can get it done as quickly as you.” She pats Marcus on the back.

All previous tension vanishes, laughter taking its place.

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Trying to decipher what’s going on behind those pretty green eyes will be the death of me.

I’m jolted back to reality by the continuous blear of a car horn.

“I have to,” I hike my thumb over my shoulder towards the front door, “get going. But seriously, come this weekend, Mia misses you.”

She looks me in the eye as seriously as can be, “If I come, it will only be to see Mia.”

“I don’t care why you come as long as you do.”

7

Lola

The first week of classes was a whirlwind, but in the best possible way. For the first time, I am making my own decisions. Do you know how freeing that is? The only knock on this week is that my parents have called a couple of times. I only made the mistake of answering once, and it went as smoothly as you probably thought it would.

Let me set the scene.

I was in my room, a book laying over my lap with both my parents on the other end of the speaker.

We shared the kind greetings and pleasantries you’d normally reserve for work colleagues. Then, not unexpectedly, the conversation went sideways.

“Are you a pre-vet major again?” She asked suddenly.

“No, I’m not,”

“Why? You promised me you would”

I don’t have to be there to know her arms are crossed over her chest, hip resting against the counter.

“Because I’m just trying to live a life where I am happy and that doesn’t include four more years of school,” I take a deep breath.

“Mom, you heal people by taking the cancer out of their bodies. Dad, you remove clots in people’s brains. I want to heal people by making them a meal that reminds them of their childhood or puts them back together after heartbreak.”

There was a long pause and the hope that I had finally gotten through to them started to blossom.

“Well, that’s nice,” my father sounded almost sympathetic, that was until he said, “Do you think cooking will be able to support the life you are used to financially?”

Before the conversation was even done I knew I needed a trip to the barn. I was sliding my riding boots on before the call was even over.

“I don’t know, Dad, maybe I’ll just become an escort, I heard they make good money.”

My mom gasped, and it drowned out my dad’s sighs.

“Well, there is no need for that,” my dad says.

“Well, I have to go because I know that you think that my new major is a joke, but I still have homework that I have to do.”

“Okay, sweetheart, we won’t keep you. Still no classes on Fridays this semester?”

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