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Cathy grimaces. “That’s… disgusting. How do you deal with stuff like that?”
“I don’t. I just ignore them.”
Cathy lets out a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to do that, too.”
I pat her hand. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m not sure I want to.” She picks up her spoon. “Dealing with Betty is hard enough. Now, I have to deal with the whole world.”
I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have that many fans.”
“But your fans sure are crazy.”
“Aren’t they all? I thought that’s why they’re called fans. Fanatics.”
“Well, they hate me,” Cathy pouts as she sticks her spoon into her bowl. “They love you and they hate me.”
“Well, I don’t care.”
I touch her hand once more. She turns her head and meets my gaze. I hold hers.
“It doesn’t matter what they think. Didn’t you say that? Didn’t you say their judgment isn’t good enough?” I squeeze her hand. “You are my fiancee.”
“Your fake fiancee,” Cathy corrects me.
“Who’s a real stunner,” I tease.
Just as I expected, she blushes. Hell, something must be wrong with me, but I just can’t help but think she’s hotter when her cheeks are all aflame like that.
She pulls her hand away. “I’m being serious here.”
“Too serious,” I tell her. “You should be in a lighter mood when you’re eating ice cream, especially ice cream as good as this.”
I eat another spoonful of my berries and vanilla concoction. Cathy does the same.
“It is good,” she agrees. “Not too sweet. And the texture is just… exquisite.”
She takes another spoonful and finally smiles.
“Well done, Chef.”
I, too, smile as I pretend to tip a hat. “I’m honored.”
That’s why I became a chef – to bring comfort and joy to others through food, to help them forget their worries for a little while. It’s not easy, but every smile from every diner makes every bead of sweat worth it.
Cathy eats the rest of her ice cream in silence. When she’s done, she grabs a table napkin and wipes her lips. She keeps it in between her fingers as she puts her hand down.
“You know what bothers me the most?” she asks me softly.
“What?”
“The fact that those groupies seem to know more about you than I do,” she answers. “Here I am living with you, eating with you, working with you, being your fake fiancee and all, and yet, I still don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s not true,” I tell her. “You knew me while I was growing up, before I became a chef. You know me better than they do.”
“Maybe. But they know about your wife and I don’t.” Cathy’s shoulders sink as she breathes out a sigh. “I didn’t even know her name was Evelyn.”
My eyebrows crease. “I didn’t tell you?”
She shakes her head. “Now, I know it’s none of my business, but I – ”
“It’s okay.” I place my hand on her lap. “I guess you have a right to know.”
“Do I? I’m not your real fiancee, after all.”
“But you are living with me and taking care of Maisie,” I say. “And I think it’s better if you know, what with Betty being on your case and all. Besides, I think Evelyn would want you to know. I think she’d like you, actually. I think the two of you would get along if she was still around.”
“She seems like a very nice person.”
“She was,” I confirm.
I fall silent as I think of Evelyn. Cathy says nothing. She looks like she’s waiting expectantly for me to tell her more. And I intend to. But before that…
“You know what?” I get out of my chair. “I think we need more ice cream.”
~
“So you and Evelyn met each other when you were in Thailand?” Cathy asks before licking the spoon in her hand.
“Yes.” I set mine down and grab my glass of water to take a sip. “She was working for a nonprofit organization that caters to the needs of families in third-world countries and I was opening up my third restaurant. One time, she reserved a table for ten and brought a poor family in to eat my food. I was immediately touched by her generosity, her devotion to her cause. I thought I was already trying to make the world a better place, but she seemed to be doing it better.”
“She sounds like a saint.”
“I think to the people she was helping, she was, especially the children. They really looked up to her.” I set down my glass. “Anyway, I told her she didn’t have to pay for the meal. She insisted on paying at first. She was kind, but she had a stubborn streak in her. Or maybe it was just pride. Whatever the case, I didn’t let up and she eventually gave in. Then we started talking about some kind of partnership. I was making money there, after all, so I wanted to help the locals as much as I could. I wanted to give back to the community.”
