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I take a bite of my red beans and rice. There’s no cream in the dish, but it always has a creamy taste to me. Creamy, spicy, delectable.
Same as I imagine Mary’s pussy will taste.
My God…
I look at her then. “Would you like to get out of here?”
“But this is only the fourth course.”
“True. And I can’t disappoint my grandmother.”
“Why are you in such a hurry, Ronan?”
“I want to be alone with you, Mary. If that’s not what you want, I can accept that. But it’s what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on you.”
She looks down, pushes her red beans and rice around on the small plate. “Ronan…I don’t know that I’m ready to go there. A scene.”
“I just want to be alone with you. I didn’t say we need to have sex. Or play. Or do a scene.”
Of course, that’s what I ultimately desire. But with Mary, I wouldn’t mind strolling through the seamy side of the New Orleans underbelly. Showing her where the vampires live, where the ghosts haunt.
She takes a bite of her red beans and rice. “Delicious. I’m not sure which is my favorite. I guess if I had to choose, I’d say the crawfish. This is a close second. Along with the shrimp and the turtle soup. Which I guess is everything.”
“That’s the marvel of Creole cuisine. It’s all so delicious, you don’t really have favorites. It’s funny that Mémé didn’t prepare shrimp Creole tonight. That’s one of my favorites.”
“You mean you didn’t request it?”
“No. I just asked her to put together an eight-course meal showcasing her best, and I have to admit, she is doing that.”
“So jambalaya is next?” Mary says after swallowing her bite of red beans and rice.
“Yes. And then fried catfish and grillades and grits. Dessert will be Mémé’s famous bread pudding.”
“Not bananas foster?”
“Bananas foster is delicious and originated here in New Orleans, but bread pudding is more of a Creole favorite. Mémé does it like no other. Her whiskey sauce is legendary.”
“Creole seems to use a lot of alcohol in cooking. First the sherry in the turtle soup. And now the whiskey sauce for the bread pudding.”
“Probably no more than any other cuisine. Creole has a lot of origins in French cuisine, though, and the French use a lot of alcohol in their cooking.”
“Do they?” she asks.
I nod. “Bananas foster may be a flambé treat, but the French originated the flambé. With crepes suzette.”
“You know so much about cooking, Ronan. Have you ever thought of going into the culinary arts?”
“God, no. I hate cooking. Can’t even boil an egg. I learned all this stuff from Mémé. I spent a lot of time with her when I was a kid. This restaurant was basically my home.”
“But your parents…”
“Were never home,” I say, and I hope to leave it at that. “But I do owe my parents a lot. Now that my father’s retired, I run the business.”
“Do you enjoy your work?”
“I do. Some days more than others. I’m a bit of a micromanager, but I’m learning to delegate. I like what I do. It’s a challenge. But it’s still work, Mary. It’s not play.”
She bites her lip at the word play.
