Page 39 of Dirty Husband
They finish the first steeping. Pass a cup to me.
I hold it up. "Cheers." My glass taps Shep's. Then my father's.
Dad's eyes stay on me. He knows something is happening. Knows something is different.
But maybe he'll believe this story. It's easier to convince someone of something they want to believe. And he wants me to be happy. He wants to know someone is there to take care of me.
He wants to walk me down the aisle and meet his grandchildren. He wants to believe that's possible.
I swallow a sip of my tea. "Good." It is good. Perfectly steeped. Strong but not astringent. Shep is a fast learner. And Dad is happy teaching.
"Tell me about multiple steepings," Shep says. "Your daughter was quite poetic about it."
"I get that from him." I take another sip. Let it warm my chest. Let myself believe this ruse.
"Yes, she does." Dad smiles. "Most teas can take multiple steepings. Some are meant for it. The typical way of preparing tea, here"—he points to the gaiwan, a small cup with a lid. Then he takes off the lid—"we use more tea and less water. So we can go through more steepings. Because each time we add water to the tea, the leaves open a little more." He motions to the unfurling leaves.
Shepard nods with understanding.
"They offer a different flavor. See." He uses the lid to strain the tea into a small glass. Offers the glass to Shep.
Shep takes a long sip. "Sweeter."
"And now, the leaves are even more open, so we'll taste even more of the flavor. It takes patience and love to coax every note of flavor from the tea, but it's worth the effort." Dad looks to me. He's saying something. Talking about more than tea.
But I'm not getting his meaning. "It is." I finish my cup. Offer it to him, so he can strain another for me.
Shep takes a long sip. He sets his cup down. "My mother always said tea is sunshine in a mug."
"Olivia was a wonderful woman. I'm sorry you lost her," Dad says.
"Thank you." Shep nods. For a second, his facade breaks. Sadness creeps into his eyes. His lip corners turn down. Then he forces a smile. "She said it was like love. If you're patient and you treat someone well, they'll give you all this happiness. If you don't give them what they need, they'll be bitter or sour."
Dad nodstrue.
"That's why I'm here, Mr. Lee. I hate to cut to the chase, but I have to." Shep turns to me and holds out his hand. "I know I should have asked first, but I'm asking now." He motions for me to place my hand in his.
I do.
Dad notices the light bouncing off the massive rock.
"I'd like your daughter's hand in marriage," Shep says. "I'd like your blessing. Will you allow me to marry Jasmine?"
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
"Let me talk to my daughter alone." Dad turns to me with a knowing expression.
It's funny. I've spent so much time trying to protect him. Trying to hide the ugly truth. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to have someone trying to protect me.
"Of course." Shepard squeezes my hand. He pulls me a tiny bit closer. Then he leans in. Presses his lips to mine.
My body responds immediately. Electricity courses through my veins. Collects between my legs. A blinking neon sign flashesmust have Shepard.
It's bright enough it belongs in Times Square.
It's loud enough it would actually get attention in Times Square.
