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“Hey,” I yelled, “you might not be so cocky when I smoke you in horseshoes later.”
Rakell laughed. “So, you’d rather have that fake processed macaroni and cheese over your mom’s homemade stuff? Thought you had better taste than that!”
“I have great taste, only the best…I just have a slight weakness for my college staple here.” I bent, putting my ear next to hers. “Just so you know, for me, it’s not an either-or…it’s both… sort of like I enjoy tawdry-dirty sex as much as slowly, meticulously making love to you. So once again, great taste depends on the moment.”
She gave a hushed giggle. “Jake, you have such a way with words. I’ll give you ‘great taste’ this time around.”
“Since I know a good dish when I see one, I’ll stick with anything Aunt Annette makes versus that boxed shit.” Will’s eyes darted to Rakell, as he scooped a large spoonful of Annette’s mac and cheese onto his plate.
“Watch it, bro. See you at the horseshoe pit later so we can settle this.” I turned to Rakell, shaking my head. “It’s a wonder I have any confidence with this family.” I smiled and scooped a small spoonful of my mom’s macaroni and cheese up. “You do have to try my mom’s,” I said, moving the cheesy spoonful of elbow macaroni to her plate. Her arm flinched as I plopped it next to a small piece of tri-tip and salad. “Like I said, tonight is the night to indulge.” Her eyes shifted to her plate, then to me, as if she were contemplating the caloric intake. Fuck! I moved past it using my chin to point toward my parents, “Sit by my dad.”
I slid in next to Rakell at the end of the table, across from my mom and next to my dad. Then I did a shitty thing: I stabbed a small bite of my mom’s macaroni and cheese from her plate and held my fork up. “Open that beautiful mouth. You have to try this.”
Her eyes narrowed in protest, but then my dad said, “Rakell, Annette makes the best. No one can resist it. Try it...”
“Yes, yes, I can’t wait.” She smiled sweetly at my dad, then opened her mouth, letting me slide the forkful of macaroni and cheese into her mouth. As soon as her tongue absorbed the creamy gruyere smothered noodles with a hint of lobster, her eyes closed, then opened, a sort of troubled look in them. Then, as soon as her gaze shifted toward my mom, her expression switched into a gracious grin. “Ms. Annette, this is so delicious, I have to get the recipe.”
“Take a bite of meat. There’s no better combo than mac and cheese with beef.”
“I can feed myself, Jake,” she murmured, clearly trying to deliver a message without drawing attention. Still, I caught Melissa directing her eyes toward me with a barely perceptible chin shake as if to say, stop, enough. I finally got the message.
People were talking over each other, lively conversation and laughter traversing down the long tables. Sophia, my seventeen-year-old cousin, teased me, “Jake, my mom says that that cheese stuff you eat is all chemicals.”
“Nah, Sophia, it’s dehydrated, like powder. Just add some milk, and you got this yummy, soupy, cheesy dish.”
“Yuck, that sounds gross, Jake, just gross. Doesn’t that kind of stuff give you cancer?”
“I guess if that’s all I ate, but I only have it on my birthday.”
Melissa chimed in. “He used to eat it every day in college, a whole box…daily!”
“Hey now, it was my midnight snack.”
“Yuck.” Sophia scowled. “Maybe that’s what made your arms so big.”
“Nah, thinking I got this girth from Grand-père.” I scanned down the table, smiling at my grandpa. My mom told me he’d seemed depressed since my grandma died, so she’d insisted he stay with them until the Texas summer became unbearable, then he could return to France. But I could tell he missed home. He lived in a small village where everyone knew him.
“Jake,” my dad asked, “what are you doing for your birthday tomorrow? Is there anything special planned? Mom said Dwayne couldn’t be here tonight because he’s picking up Eva from college and would host a birthday party for you on Sunday. She said we were invited.” My eyes grew like saucers. I didn’t want them at that party, but I could tell my dad was ribbing me. “But what about tomorrow on your actual big day…any plans, you two?”
“Since I only get to see this beautiful girl for a few days before she heads back to L.A., I know what I’m doing tomorrow,” I joshed, my voice low and husky as I leaned toward Rakell, lightly pecking her head.
Rakell yanked her head back, looking at me pointedly. “Hey, you, not cool,” she chided, pointing a finger at me. I fucking wanted to suck on that finger, then move up her arm, her neck, all of her.
“That’s right, Jake…inappropriate,” my dad added, scanning the table.
I caught my mom scowling at me across the table. Do my parents realize I’m twenty-nine tomorrow…not nine?
“Please, you have children in earshot,” Melissa warned.
“Jeez, this crowd…. your minds are in the gutter,” I said, making a clucking sound. “I can tell you, my comment was innocent, but your minds,” I said, my eyes dropping to Rakell, “twisted.” I stood. “Getting another beer, and before you ask, Dad, this is only my second.”
I chuckled as I walked toward the cooler, taking in Rakell’s flushed cheeks. She looked down at her food, moving it around with her fork. My dad looked at her and said, “Sorry, we really should not have spared the rod with that one.”
She lifted her eyes, nodding at him before they both laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
In the kitchen, Annette, Melissa, Rakell, and two of Jake’s aunts quickly loaded the dishwasher, his aunts pebbling Rakell with questions about her modeling and acting career. Finally, Aunt Linda asked the question Rakell could tell she’d been dying to ask the whole time, about why Rakell had cheered Jake on from the San Antonio Lone Stars’ owner’s box. Annette shot her sister-in-law a side-eyed look, but Rakell said it was okay. Laughing to dampen the tension, she told the story, explaining how she and Jake had met at the gym, then hung out a few times. She went on to describe how they weren’t in a place to have a committed relationship, but that he had still been on her mind, so when she was watching him play, she’d gotten caught up in the moment and was silently praying for him to win. When he made that touchdown, it had been an automatic response for her to cheer because she was so excited for Jake, and she knew he’d earned it. His aunt clapped like a giddy schoolgirl watching a sappy romcom. “Ah, that’s a great story, so romantic.”
