Page 108 of Unraveling Rain
“Mija, welcome. I’m Sam,” his dad adds, enveloping me in a bear hug of his own.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.
“We’re starving,” Xander groans, rubbing his stomach dramatically. “We freshened up before coming here, but we haven’t eaten a thing.”
Okay, so dramatics run in the family.
A few clients are mingling around and eating, and the staff is handling everything smoothly.
Sam and Kristine lead us through a side door into the kitchen. It’s smaller than the one at the diner but buzzing with energy. Cooks and servers work in perfect harmony, like a well-oiled machine.
We pass through the kitchen and step onto a deck that opens up to the ocean. There’s only one table set beneath a large umbrella, providing shade from the sun. The sound of waves clashing rhythmically against the shore fills the air. It’s beautiful, calming, alive.
I get lost in the immensity of the sea for a moment, until Xander gently gestures for me to sit.
I give him a grateful smile and settle into the chair. There are a couple of extra seats at the table, and I wonder if his grandfather will be joining us.
“So Rain,” Sam begins as he takes a seat across from me, “have you ever had Caribbean food?”
I shake my head, cheeks still warm. Words don’t come easily.
Is this what Xander felt the first time he saw me?
“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Sam says, clearly delighted. “We’ll start with a few appetizers, then go from there.”
He stands and chats with someone in the kitchen before quickly returning with a chilled glass pitcher. He pours four tall glasses, and Xander hands one to me.
“Watermelon juice,” Sam says, raising his glass for a toast.
I smile as our glasses clink and take a sip. Cool, sweet, with just a hint of lime.
“This is delicious,” I say, taking another sip. “So refreshing. I don’t think I’ve ever had watermelon juice before—only the fruit.”
Sam beams as a waiter arrives with a massive tray.
“Please, Rain—if there’s anything you don’t want to try, or don’t like, don’t feel bad,” Sam says warmly.
He begins pointing to everything on the tray. “We have plantains here. You can top them with any of the sauces or meats, or simply eat them on their own.”
I start with one plain—starchy, unfamiliar, but intriguing.
I watch Xander carefully as he loads his with tomato-onion dip and some shredded meat. I follow suit.
The result is delicious: savory, tangy, rich. Each bite packs a flavorful punch.
“I’d be happy if this was the entire meal. It’s incredible,” I say, and Sam lights up.
“I’m glad you like it. Don’t worry—we have more coming.”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt Sam’s food monologue,” Kristine chimes in with a knowing smile, “but if it were up to him, he’d talk about Caribbean flavors all day.”
Sam clears his throat while Xander smirks, still eating.
“But dear,” Kristine continues, turning her focus to me, “we only have you here for so long, and I’m dying to get to know you.”
I pause mid-bite, wipe my mouth, and set down my napkin, bracing myself for her questions.
“Of course,” I say softly. “What would you like to know?”
