Page 11 of Freedom's Kiss
Dad patted Mom’s hand absently. “I went down to Day Labor after. The pay is awful, but something is better than nothing.”
“And in the meantime, we wait and pray. God will provide. He always has, and He always will.”
Olivia watched her dad offer a small and strained smile. Time to change the subject. She set her plate down on the counter. “Well, I have some news.”
“Oh?” Mom’s sculpted brow rose.
Olivia couldn’t hold back her grin. Years of working and waiting at Seaside had opened zero doors to the culinary world. A food truck might not be the highway to her dream, but she’d take any route available. “I got a second job working at a food truck. And get this—the owner is going to let me list my own creations on his menu.”
“That’s so great, honey!” Mom’s floral perfume enveloped Olivia a second before her arms did.
Olivia looked past her mom’s shoulder to her dad leaning against the kitchen countertop.
Pain flashed in his eyes before he ratcheted his fake smile up another notch. He pushed off the Formica and patted her on the back as he passed. “Congratulations. I think I’m going to head to bed now.”
Mom’s arms fell away, along with Olivia’s joy. Her nose began to tingle as she watched her dad’s hunched shoulders disappear down the hall.
“Don’t worry about him, honey. He’s happy for you.” Mom tilted her head, her eyes softening. “He’s just struggling right now. Your father is a proud man, and being unemployed and not able to provide for his family has made him feel like his legs have been cut out from under him.”
“But we’re a family, and families help each other.”
Her mom removed Olivia’s hat and stroked her hair. “I know. And we’ve appreciated you moving back home and pitching in with the mortgage. But your father? He wants to give you the world, sweetie. If he could, he’d fly you to Paris so you could learn from the world’s top chefs. Accepting your help with bills and then seeing you settle and not realize your dreams is killing him.”
Olivia hung her head. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”
Pressure on her chin raised her face. “You didn’t. The fact that he’s not invincible did. But he’ll come to terms with it.” A twinkle entered her blue eyes. “Humility and your father have never been good companions.”
Olivia looked down the hall. “Should I talk to him, you think?”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.” Mom moved away to set the empty plates in the sink and toss the food containers in the trash. “Just wait. Pretty soon he’ll be one of your regular customers at that food truck of yours.”
* * *
Olivia sat on the porch step and leaned her head against the railing. Faint stars still dotted the sky, but the horizon had begun lightening in shades of blues and yellows. Soon the sun would crest over the Atlantic. Though, she wouldn’t bear witness to the sight this far inland. She tugged her plaid flannel shirt closed over her cotton tank top. In an hour or so, when the heat and humidity rose, she’d be thankful to shed the outer layer.
She checked her purse for the list of ingredients she’d shoved in the night before. Her mom had spent over an hour helping her flip through her recipe binders on the hunt for the perfect dishes to seal the deal with Adam. There was wiggle room in her plan, based on what fresh produce she found at the farmers’ market, but she was confident in the dishes she’d picked. Cajun fish and savory cheese grits. Chicken and dumplings. Classic Louisiana po’boy. Hand pie for dessert, with in-season fruit. Fresh smoothies to combat the heat.
A white Jetta pulled into the driveway, the driver hidden behind the windshield and visor. Had to be Adam though. Who else would pull up before sunrise? She stood and tugged at the hem of her shorts before walking to the car.
The driver’s side opened, and Adam rose in the space between the car and door, aviator sunglasses over his eyes and a smirk on his face as he leaned his forearm on the roof of the car. “Morning.” He thrust his chin the direction she’d come. “Nice house.”
She opened the passenger door and met his gaze across the roof of the car. “Chai latte?” He’d better have remembered.
His head bobbed with his laugh. “In the cupholder.”
She dropped to the seat and extricated the hot drink, her eyes sliding shut as the spicy, creamy sweetness slid down her throat and warmed her belly.
The engine roared to life, and the car backed out of the drive. “Not a morning person?”
Olivia took another sip before answering. “I’m at work by now on most days, but today is a rare day off. I usually spend those in bed until noon.”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the road. “You should’ve said something yesterday.”
She settled back onto the seat. “And miss this opportunity? Not on your life.” The scent of cloves and cinnamon filled her nostrils as she lifted the cup back to her mouth. “And in full disclosure, that was my parents’ house. I have my own space in the frog, but, yeah, I still live with my parents.” She took a drink, then lowered the cup, putting a challenge in her gaze. “Okay, let the judging begin.”
Adam chuckled beside her. “Sorry. Can’t jump to judgment yet. I’m still caught up on what you said before that. You live in the frog? Please tell me that’s a euphemism for something.”
“It stands forfinished room over garage. A garage apartment basically, although I lack a kitchen in mine.” She’d been content to move back into her old room, but her dad wouldn’t hear of it. Said if she was going to pay rent, then she deserved as much space and privacy as they could offer. The room above the garage had been his man cave, but he’d moved all his stuff out so she could have her own bathroom and a larger living space.
