Chapter 16: Fool in the Rain

Heather is coming for dinner!

When I told Melissa the next morning, she wasn’t surprised. “I know just what to make!” was the very first thing she said. I wondered if Lara had been gossiping, since my mom seemed to be making more of a deal about it than when Julie came over to eat. Then again, Julie had been eating with us for as long as I could remember, ever since we started coming to Montauk. So when I was together with Julie, it didn’t really change anything.

But this was different. Even I had to admit that. I wasn’t about to confess to anyone that I wanted to be with Heather and that I really was wooing her. But as usual, Melissa could probably see through my ruse, just as Heather had the day before when I’d innocently invited her for the meal.

Maybe I should just ask my mom what’s going to happen, I thought, since she always seems to know what’s going on before I do.

“Unless you want to cook. Girls like that,” Melissa said casually.

“Um, like I said yesterday, we’re just friends,” I insisted.

“Do you two want to sit out on the porch, alone? Candles would be nice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom!”

“Sorry. Who’s cooking then?” she asked, wiping the mischief from her voice. Her eyes always held mischief, though; there was no removing it from them.

“You, if you don’t mind; I have no idea what to make.”

“All right. I could use some help though,” she hinted.

I eyed her, since it seemed like she was making herself an opportunity for teasing. Or prying ... Probably both. But she was agreeing to make dinner on my friend’s account, so it was the least I could do.

“Okay, I guess making all that extra food for Heather will take that much more work, so I’ll help,” I said exaggeratedly.

“Let’s go to the store then,” she suggested.

“Right now?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you rather go after the dinner? Or maybe we can shop next week, after we’ve left Montauk?”

I chuckled, feeling foolish. “What are we making?”

“A new recipe I’m thinking of for the resort.”

“Wow. Cool.”

That was one nice thing about having a chef for a mom. She tried stuff out on us. We rarely complained. That she wanted to make it for Heather seemed to up the stakes.

Surprisingly, my mom didn’t pry or tease the whole time we were out. The shopping was enjoyable. I watched as she picked out corn, wild mushrooms, and turnips, explaining what she was looking for. Red and yellow peppers, green onions, shallots, a couple of tomatoes, a celery heart, some thyme, and a bunch of fresh basil went into the cart. She sent me to fill a bag with loose walnuts, while she waited on three pounds of squid and six prime halibut steaks.

“Thought it best if we didn’t get these at Martin’s. Heads up,” she said with a grin, tossing me the package of fish across a display of cocktail sauce and lemons. “Now, a couple of French baguettes.”

What’s gotten into her, I wondered with a small smile.

When we returned home, we got straight to work. First we were going to have a simple calamari salad, she announced. “That means cleaning the squids, unfortunately. Here, I’ll show you.”

My mom handed me a knife and we worked at the counter for a while, dissecting the slimy animals. After removing the quills, we separated the heads, removed the skin and beak, and chopped the white meat into rings. She had me cut up the raw vegetables while she heated a mix of water and white vinegar on the stove. When the pickling liquid was roiling, I dumped the squad of squids in.

“Don’t let them be in there more than a few minutes, or they get rubbery.”

We watched the rings start to shrink.

“Okay, done!” she cried.

“That’s it?”

“Mm-hmm. Pour them into the colander in the sink. Quick!”

I sure hope Heather likes this, I thought, eyeing the calamari as they spilled out of the pot.

“All right, we’ll let those cool,” Melissa said, setting the colander under running water. “Let’s get a dressing together.”

She had me mix it: olive oil, a little white wine vinegar, salt, the green onions – cut on the extreme diagonal – and several garlic cloves sliced paper thin.

She rolled two lemons across the counter at me. “Squeeze those in. Try not to let any seeds in. You can use your hand as a sieve, like this ... Then choose some nice large basil leaves from that bunch. Slice them into long strips.”

I looked at Melissa. She was in her chef’s hat, metaphorically, and in her element. I was glad I’d given her an excuse to make a nice dinner. Not that our regular meals were bad, but this was shaping up to be a really special event, and it brought out a side of her I’d never completely seen.

I worked fast, but carefully. For the basil, I sliced the leaves into thin ‘V’s across the stem. My mom chuckled when she saw them.

“Nice! Maybe you should come work as a cook at the resort. Throw the veggies and squids in with the dressing and mix it up.”

She cleaned up some dishes while I followed her directions. The vibrant colors of the peppers, tomatoes, basil, and celery began to blend in with the pearly white calamari. If nothing else, the dish was alive with color.

“How is it?” she asked.

“Should I try it?”

“Well, of course! How else will you know if it’s right?”

I took a fork and scooped some of the salad to my lips. It tasted quite good, but was missing ... something. “It’s a bit ... soft. Needs more edge.”

My mom tried a bite. “Yeah. Here, a pinch of salt and another half lemon should do it.”

I squeezed the citrus in and then tasted again. “Good!”

We set the salad in the fridge to chill until dinner.

“We’ll make the main meal later,” Melissa said. “Let’s soak these walnuts.”

I set the nuts in a bowl and covered them with water.

“Let me help with the dishes,” I offered.

“Okay, I’ll wash, you dry. We’ll need all the space we can get later.”

I took up the dish towel. “Thanks, Mom,” I said sincerely.

Melissa turned her head as she scrubbed the cutting board. “No problem, sweetie.” She seemed like she was going to say more, but instead she just smiled at me.

“Ooh, big dinner tonight, huh?” Lara asked, as we walked out to the ocean to try to defeat the midday heat.

“Yeah, Mom’s making a really nice meal for everyone.”

“Cool. What’s on the menu?”

“Squid salad, and something she’s making up on the fly, or so she said.”

“Nice. Heather would be more impressed if you made something for her, though.”

“I am,” I said unexpectedly. “Mom’s basically having me make everything, I just realized.”

“Heh. She must be on to you.”

“On to me?”

“Trying to win Heather.”

I started to protest. “We’re—”

“Just friends,” Lara finished. “Yeah, you’re not fooling anyone with that, so you might as well give it up.”

I was silent as we waded out. Luckily the waves were calm so we could just float and talk.

“All right, I’ll admit it,” I finally said. “But I don’t feel a hundred percent good about it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, why do you think? When I was with Julie, some dude had been trying to take her from me. And he finally did. I don’t like him very much. And now ... now I’m that guy.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s easy to be all excited about the situation when you’re in my position. But having been on the other side, I know how much it sucks.”

Lara was quiet, thinking. “But there’s a difference.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, exactly, but you two are meant to be together. I’ve only ever talked to her at breakfast yesterday, but it’s so obvious that she wants to be with you.”

I felt my spine tingle warmly, even in the chill of the ocean water. “Really?”

“Matt, she’s not fooling anyone either. Then again, she might not be trying to fool anyone, like you are.”

I grunted. “But why is she with Bill, then?”

“Because she probably thought you blew her off after last year.”

“Oh ... right,” I moaned. “This is so messed up! Did I really ruin everything? Ugh...”

“Are you willing to do the long distance thing with her?”

“Of course. She comes to the Catskills a few times every winter to ski, so it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Then tell her how you feel. She might break up with Bill if she knows you’re serious.”

“And then I’m a total asshole,” I said glumly.

“No, you’re not,” Lara stressed. “Julie cheated on you, then didn’t tell you, and only fessed up when Aunt Beth talked to her. This is different. Yeah, Bill may not be happy about it, but he’s not going to be with Heather forever.”

“How do you know?”

“I met Bill when he was going out with Julie. He’s not right for Heather,” she said cryptically.

I just shrugged, wondering how she could predict so much future from so little past. But Lara’s other words kept echoing in my head. This is different. This is different.

“You really think I should tell her?” I asked.

“I would. And if she blows you off, I’ll ... I’ll eat my bathing suit. Both pieces!”

I laughed at the image and then sighed. “Once again, thanks.”

Lara smiled. “You’re welcome. Shit, I don’t even know why I’m helping you. I almost had you for myself, for a while there anyway.”

“Oh, Lara, you’ll always have me,” I said, ignoring the salacious aspect of her comment.

“I know,” she said softly.

My hand found hers underwater and we floated quietly for a long time.

Melissa made me the head cook for the main dish preparation. Somehow, I’d gone from lending a hand to fixing dinner outright. She sat at the counter, delivering the recipe she had in her head and helping with the menial tasks like washing vegetables.

She’d concocted some mushroom-halibut-corn dish. It involved pureeing the soaked walnuts, turnips, and roasted corn in the blender with spices, before spreading it out on parchment paper and putting it in the oven on very low heat. She said it would bring out the flavors that way.

As we prepared the parts, she had me try different things, asking for my opinion on the taste. After checking herself, we’d make adjustments. Apart from not drying the mushrooms enough, which made the halibut-mushroom ragout a bit more liquid than she wanted, my mom was satisfied with the first attempt at the dish so far.

For dessert, I’d picked something simple when we were at the store: berries and cream. It was one of my favorites, so it was an easy choice when we saw the plump raspberries and blueberries at the market.

As six o’clock approached, my nerves started dancing. What I’d planned to be a casual invitation was practically a formal date now. I hoped Heather wouldn’t feel uncomfortable about the extravagant meal.

Finally the doorbell rang. I had Lara answer the door with me. Luckily the adults were sitting on the porch drinking some wine, so Heather’s entrance wasn’t a ‘standing room only’ event.

“Hi Matt, Lara,” Heather greeted cheerily.

“Hey, come in!” I was way too giddy as I took in her radiant smile.

She carried in her camera bag and a tripod, setting them down by the couch.

“Smells good!” she sang.

“Matt cooked today,” Lara announced.

I nudged her with my elbow. “I helped my mom cook,” I corrected.

“I can’t wait to eat,” Heather said, a knowing smile crossing her lips.

Dinner went really well. No one said anything untoward and the food was exquisite. The corn and walnut puree ended up being a type of polenta, upon which the halibut-mushroom ragout was placed. The flavors were an excellent blend and Heather was even more impressed when she found out my mom had invented it.

As we finished the last bit of dessert, I sat back and looked around the table. Conversation was lively. The meal had been perfect. Heather caught my eye and gave me the sweetest of smiles. The rest of the table faded away momentarily. I grinned back, acutely aware of how much I wanted to be with her and yet how unattainable she was. I’d been going back and forth all day on Lara’s suggestion, but I couldn’t bring myself to risk ruining my friendship with Heather by saying the wrong thing. I’d enjoyed the evening with her immensely, but sadly, the night was coming to an end.

The dinner party had broken up. Sarah and my aunt were doing dishes and Hans and Melissa were reading in the living room. Lara was out with James, and Heather was leaving soon. It was a Saturday night, so supposedly she’d be going somewhere with Bill.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” Heather said.

She’d spotted my axe leaning against the corner of the porch, where we were digesting our food, enjoying the sunset and the sounds of the sea.

“Yeah, I play some.”

“That’s cool. I wish I knew how to. I do play the flute, but that’s not as much fun as the guitar probably is.”

“I don’t know, never tried the flute. Are you in band at school?”

“Nah. My folks are Irish and they play Irish music, so they got me started. I think they wanted a family band.”

“What happened?”

“Not enough family, I guess! Or not enough time, really. The fish market takes a lot to run.”

“You know, that’s funny. I just remembered that a couple of Irish exchange students might be coming to stay with us.”

“Really? When?”

“Sometime this school year. After Christmas, I think.”

“That’s neat. If we do stay with you during the ski season, maybe we’ll meet them.”

I almost choked on the lemonade I’d just sipped. She’s really considering coming to stay with us? I thought it was just a pipe dream of mine.