Page 21 of Driving Beats

Placing a platter on the island next to where she’s working, I say, “You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I could do since you’ve given me free room and board.” She flips the bread. “Not to mention letting me work on your Zen Garden.”

“About that.” Guess now is a good time to let her know no lasting harm was done. “I apologize if I sounded high-handed about it yesterday.” I crook my lips upward. “Not very Zen of me.”

In what I’m coming to understand is her signature move, she tosses her head back and laughs. “Coop, I never knew you had a sense of humor. You’re actually funny when you want to be.”

Funny? No one has accused me of being funny since, well, before Lillian. “Don’t mention it.” Seriously.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She elbows me in the ribs. “Now, prepare to be amazed at the world’s best French toast.”

She puts several slices onto the platter, which I dutifully bring to the dinette. I return to the kitchen, where she loads my arms up with maple syrup, berries, bananas, whipped cream, powdered sugar, walnuts, peanut butter, hazelnut spread, and chocolate chips.

Finger over her lips, she says, “I think that’s all.”

At the table, I deposit the vast assortment of toppings. I can’t image using most of these—maple syrup is the only thing I’ll need.

From the kitchen, Nese snaps her fingers. “Agave. This stuff could run UC for a week.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “I didn’t know I had half of this. For the record, all I need is maple syrup and butter, and I’ll be good.”

“Butter!” She rushes to my fridge. “Here you are.” She puts the butter dish in front of my place setting.

From my seat, I watch in fascination as she tries all the toppings until she’s satisfied with her concoction. She takes a big bite, followed by leaning back against the banquette wearing a huge smile. Since she went through all this trouble, I mentally prepare to love the French toast—even if I hate it. I take a small taste.

The flavor pops. There’s a spice I can’t quite place that makes this dish sing. “This is delicious.”

If possible, her smile widens. “You really like it?”

“I do. What spice do you have in it?”

She shovels another piece into her mouth. After she swallows, she says, “Allspice. I was using nutmeg for the longest time, but I read somewhere about allspice, which combines cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg. Once I tried it, I knew I had the winner.”

I hold up my fork, filled with the French toast. “That you do.”

When I finish my first slice, I ask, “Do you mind if I have a second?”

“Would I mind? Let’s see … since this is your house, I don’t think I can deny you. Besides, I made three slices for each of us, so go right ahead. Maybe try something other than syrup on it this time. Changes the flavor profile. For the better!”

Wow. So much commentary to answer a simple question. I accept the platter from her and place another slice on my dish. Since she’s so keen on me trying it a different way, I add some berries and agave.

I pick up my fork and glance at her. She’s watching me like a groupie. My eyebrow raises. “Seriously?”

She giggles. “I was excited to see you try it a different way. Go ahead, eat.”

The utensil approaches my mouth, with Nese intent on my every movement. “Seriously? How about focusing on your food and leave me to mine.”

She huffs and cuts another piece of her own French toast. I wait until she’s concentrating on her plate to take a tiny taste. Damn. This girl can cook.

“Fine,” I admit. “I prefer this to my old way. But only by a hair.” I take a bigger bite and the berries explode in my mouth.

“Told you.” She takes another piece for herself.

In the end, I eat four pieces to her two. I try the whipped cream, hazelnut spread and nuts, but the berries are my favorite. My usual syrup and butter ranks third now. “This was the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

She attempts to stand, and I place my hand on her shoulder. “No. You did all the cooking. It’s only fair that I clean up.”