"I have pepper spray in my purse."
"I think maybe we need to get you a gun," Kane says.
"Are you serious?" My heart begins to thud in my chest. I've never held a gun before in my life. This is crazy.
"Let's just keep calm." Karter throws his arm around my shoulders. "Holden's a worrier and Kane always takes things too far. When you're with us, you're safe. The rest of the time, just be aware of your surroundings. Don't go to places where Summer might be.”
"I guess that means no more amazing coffee from Roasted for me."
"Just while we work things out," Karter says reassuringly. The way he’s talking it’s as though not expecting this to be a long-term issue. Maybe he's hoping Summer will get bored.
As we make our way back to the house, I'm hoping for the same thing.
23
"Is it ready yet?" Harris appears in the kitchen, inhaling the fragrant scent of Thailand. At least, that's what I hope he's inhaling. Cooking has never been my forte, but I'm desperate to try for these men.
"Yes," I say, as I lift the heavy pan of rice and start to tip it into a pretty white bowl adorned with blue flowers. "Here. You can take this outside."
"Okay," he bounds over like an overexcited puppy at feeding time and grabs the bowl. The rice has been flavored with coconut and smells creamy and delicious.
The curry, I'm not so sure.
It's called green curry, but it looks more like pond water, complete with algae. It had so many different ingredients to make the paste that I'm worried I've completely screwed up. I lean over the pan, using my hand to waft the scent to my nose. It smells okay.
I guess it's now or never.
Carrying the pan into the garden, I'm greeted by four sets of eager eyes. It's like they've never been cooked for before.
"I have no idea what this is going to be like. And if it tastes disgusting, just tell me. Please don't force it down. I won't be offended. I know I'm not a great cook, so you'll just be confirming something I'm already certain of."
"Don't put yourself down, Connie. I'm sure it's going to be awesome." Karter gives me a bright smile that I know is supposed to be reassuring. He has no idea how many times my dad has screwed his nose up at a meal I've prepared. He has no idea how many times Dad was right.
"Awesome? The chances of that are very unlikely."
"Well, I'm famished. Let's plate this up."
Holden takes charge of spooning out big helpings of the rice, which looks light and fluffy. I raise my eyebrows, momentarily surprised that I've produced something that resembles the pictures in the recipe book. I place the hot pot in the center of the table, and Kane takes charge of serving out the murky green sauce and chunks of chicken and vegetables. Inside, I'm praying that it's going to be good because I know these men won't be upfront about my culinary challenges in the way that my dad is. They'll try to protect my feelings and smile while they swallow down the gross mouthfuls. I take a seat beside Karter, who rests his hand on my knee under the table and gives it a reassuring squeeze. With my plate filled with food, I pick up my fork and poke it with trepidation.
I should be the one to try it first. It's only fair.
Without glancing around, I fork a piece of chicken and some rice and pop it in my mouth. For a moment, it's too hot for me to taste. Chewing, I focus on what my tongue is telling me. Spicy. Creamy. Similar to the food at Natalie's wedding. The chicken is soft. The rice is cooked. It's actually good. By the time I look up, all the Banbury boys are chewing with smiles on their faces. "Connie, this is amazing," Holden says.
"It's just like the one at the wedding," Kane says.
"You did it," Harris adds.
Karter squeezes my knee again, and I break into an ecstatic smile that aches my cheeks.
"I can't believe that I managed to make you something edible."
"Why?" Holden says.
"Because everything I ever made for my father turned out awful."
Holden shakes his head. "Didn't you ever think that maybe it was because he didn't believe in you that you couldn't succeed? Sometimes we live up to what is expected of us. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."
I'd never thought about it that way, but maybe Holden is right. Maybe Dad's constant negativity had a negative influence on my abilities. When others doubt us, we start to doubt ourselves. But my boys never doubted me. They want me to succeed. They're there every step of the way to help. As we eat and the boys discuss some training that they will need to complete next week, I'm lost in my thoughts. Every new bite of yummy food has me searching for answers.