“Interesting choice of hat,” I remarked, sliding up beside Robert.
He spun to face me, his sky-blue eyes flashing, surprise written across his slightly freckled features. “You could give a man a heart attack, you know. Nearly lost a finger.”
I offered a slow, teasing smile. “Sorry. But I’m serious: you should keep it on tonight. Rosalie might find it… charming.”
Robert groaned, brushing a stray lock of sandy-brown hair from his forehead. “It’s my grandmother’s,” he said, voice dropping, before turning his attention back to the fruit he was slicing. “My real chef’s hat is in the wash. But sure. In this hat? Rosalie would have all sorts of ideas—and none of them innocent.”
“Especially if she pays a random visit to the kitchen,” a female voice spoke behind us.
I snorted as I turned to see our friend Jessie striding over, a grin on her heart-shaped face. She wore a woven dress, similar to mine, but with jade beads lining the sleeves. A straw headband kept her short bob of auburn hair out of her face. She, Robert, and I used to live right next to each other as kids and grew up almost like siblings.
I greeted Jessie with my own grin. “Apparently, I’m not the only one who thought of bribing the fruit chef.”
“Of course not,” she replied, sliding an arm around my shoulder. Her amber eyes ran over the jackfruit Robert was gutting and the stacks of fruit he had already prepared, piled high on plates along the table.
Robert scoffed. “I doubt you could afford my price.”
Jessie’s gaze slid to his hat, lips curling in quiet amusement. “Not even for something nicer to cover that head of yours?”
Robert gave her an appraising look. “I’d consider parting with a mango skin.”
I leaned forward slightly, voice low. “How about we put in a good word with Rosalie tonight instead?” My eyebrow rose pointedly. Robert’s quiet fascination with the petite blonde was no secret, yet he’d spent nearly a year dancing around his desires rather than acting on them. If he didn’t stake his claim soon, someone bolder surely would.
Jessie’s mouth curved slowly, her voice taking on a velvet edge. “It’s a fair offer, Robert. A dance with her at Founders’ Day might just be the perfect spark to finally set things in motion.”
“Don’t talk too loudly,” he muttered. “My mom’s behind us.”
I looked over my shoulder to spot the short, pudgy woman by the sink, washing coconut shells, and smirked.
“So, you’ll consider it?” I asked in a lower tone, respecting his desire to keep his mother out of the loop. There were few in our community with a mouth like Mrs. Farr’s; the moment she got so much as a whiff of Robert’s attraction to Rosalie, she’d probably zip line straight to Rosalie’s mom and try to get them hooked up herself. He was twenty, just a little older than Jessie and me, but he was also her youngest child and the only son in a family of four daughters. Double whammy.
Robert blew out, then set the knife down and took amoment to wipe his brow. The whistles and clattering of the kitchen filled our ears as we waited.
“Fine,” he said at last. “You’ve got a deal. But you’d better know what you’re doing. If you make things awkward…” He wet his lower lip and frowned at us, searching for a suitable punishment.
“Deal.” Jessie and I held out our hands.
He brushed us off, then turned to pick up the knife again. He sliced off two pods from the jackfruit and handed one to each of us.
“That’s all?” Jessie asked in outrage.
He straightened his grandma-cap. “I told you. I’m expensive.”
Jessie and I helped in the kitchen until the final dishes were ready, then assisted the chefs in carrying the covered platters over the short wooden bridge to the community hall.
The winds were starting to pick up, the first drops of rain pitter pattering against the canopy of leaves around us. The first rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.
Our community hall was the only structure in the entire colony large enough to hold all five-hundred-and-twenty-four of us at once. The broad, ovular building spread out over half a dozen sturdy trees. Today it was packed with tables and rows of chairs.
I spotted my mother in the hall already, along with my sister, Auntie Naomi, and the flowers, with which they were busy decorating the walls. A dozen other early comers had arrived, including Jessie’s mother and her five younger children.
With each trip I made from the kitchen to the hall, more people arrived. After setting down the last tray in the servingarea, I took a moment to catch my breath and look around at the gathered assembly. My father and his brother, Uncle Vance, had come together, and now sat with my mother, Bea, Auntie Naomi, and my four other cousins, the oldest of whom was fourteen.
My eyes then sought out Rosalie. The slight, five-foot-four blonde sat with a group of ten other girls, laughing and chattering. I could easily see what Robert saw in those large, hazel eyes of hers—she was a cutie.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Jessie. We shared a smirk, and I was sure we both thought the same thing.
“Where’s lover boy?” I asked in a quiet voice as Mrs. Farr passed by us carrying a large pitcher of guava juice.
