Molly
"What the hell, Sugar-puff! You can't squeeze a tomato out like it's a bloody orange!" Danny yells when she turns away from the serving window and sees what Tanner is doing.
I have to admit, I was a little surprised too. He gouged out the stem parts of the tomatoes, used a paring knife to cut a cross into the bottom of each and then boiled them for a few minutes while he attacked some chillies and onions as if they personally scarred him. He really knows his way around a knife.
All of that made sense to me, but now he is squeezing the boiled tomatoes like... well, oranges, and their flesh is plopping out of their skins in blobs and splatters, landing in the big pot he is using to make the base sauce. I don't think I've ever seen a chef do that before, but... it's Tanner, and watching him work is making me feel tingly all over. His hands are moving fast, and he doesn't miss a beat.
Eddie joined us in the kitchen a few minutes ago and has been eagerly finding utensils for Tanner, handing him tools like a good operating room nurse. He is clearly ecstatic about having the god of gastronomy cooking up a storm in his family restaurant's kitchen.
"Why not, Pancake?" Tanner grunts, turning to the bowl of cold water containing the freshly boiled tomatoes.
"Because, Muffin... it's weird..."
"No, Fudge Cake, you're the one who's weird."
"Well, Vanilla Custard, this..."
"Vanilla Custard?" Tanner chuckles, interrupting her tirade. "Really? So many things come to mind," he grins, making Danny squeeze her lips together as if she's about to spit at him or laugh; it could go either way. The girl is extremely unpredictable.
"Look, Cupcake..."
"Seriously!" I interject. I don't care what she wants him to look at; we'll be here forever at this rate, and Tanner is fondling the tomato he'd taken from the bowl in a way that makes me feel a little breathless. I really never thought that cooking could be this sexy, but watching this guy at work is making my nerves sing. "Are you two going to open a bakery, or are we going to make some bloody chilli sauce?!"
It might've come out a little more aggressively than I meant it to.
"I really hope it's not going to be bloody," Tanner mumbles, "but I guess it might be..."
"Chill out, Merida, no need to be jealous," the broom pilot scoffs at me.
What the hell?! Merida? Again? Why?!
"I'm not jealous..." Of course, I'm not!
"Right?" Tanner smiles, nodding his approval, totally ignoring my indignation. "You see it too?" he asks Danny or tells her; I'm not sure which, and I don't think he's referring to the jealousy part of her accusation.
"Of course! It's hard to miss with that fiery passion just smoking out of her ears, and that friggin' bloody ridiculous hair of hers just screams Merida. It's all sunny and thick, with glossy curls all over the place. It's obscene! It makes me want to go shave my mousy head in shame."
What the hell is she on about now?
I only understood about a quarter of that speech, and Tanner kept on grinning and nodding his head as if he actually knew what she meant and fully agreed with her. I feel like I'm trapped on a planet where people name each other after baked goods and say weird shit about other people's hair.
"I'm not sure; are you complimenting me, or was that just a really horrible insult involving my hair?"
"Dude!" Danny snorts, shaking her head. "I'd kill for hair like yours. I'd literally kill for it." She suddenly gives me a rather scary grin, her eyes sliding to look at one of the knives Tanner has ready on the work table.
"Tan," I mutter, grabbing his arm and stepping behind him to shield myself from the weird girl with the baseball cap, fluffy, shoulder-length, honey-brown hair and frayed denim overalls. I really wish there was less of me; hiding is not easy when you're my size, and the girl looks like she's ready to wrestle a bull right after she dragged him into the ring by his tail.
"Don't worry, Moll, I won't let her kill you; you have to taste the sauce."
"Oh, wow! Thank you so much."
He laughs and resumes his tomato indecency. Seeing the speed at which the pot is filling, I think I'm beginning to understand his method. It gets the tomatoes out of their peels and into the pot and mostly crushed all in one go. Brilliant! Gross but brilliant.
I'm pretty sure there's no way I'll ever be able to do that successfully.
"Okay," Tanner says when he's done stirring in all the ingredients he feels confident about putting into the sauce. "We'll leave that to simmer, and when it's done, we can put some in a couple of bowls and experiment until..."
"Come on!" Danny is between orders again, which means she's going to be annoying. Every time there is a lull in the orders coming through the window from the Apollo look-alike at the serving counter, she tries to get on Tanner's nerves, second-guessing his every move. The girl is brave; seriously, the guy is armed. He has muscles and knives, and he knows how to use them. I'm surprised that he hasn't tried them out on her yet. "I thought you knew what you were doing."
"Moll, I think I might be changing my mind about the whole killing thing, but I'd like to change the target," Tanner drawls, removing the spoon he'd been using to stir his mixture and turning to face Danny. "What is your problem now, Revy?"
"Revy?" she blinks at him in surprise. "You watched the Black Lagoon?"
"Didn't everybody?"
I hesitantly put my hand up, once again not sure what this conversation is about. "I haven't watched it."
"Well, no shit, Hermione Granger," Danny is scoffing at me again. "You don't really strike me as an anime fan."
She knows who Hermione is and clearly recognised my sweater for what it is, so... is she mocking me or making character comparisons again? Does she even know that my surname is Granger? I can be a friggin' anime fan if I want to! I just need to watch some first. I'm going to do exactly that and become a huge fan just to prove her wrong!
"Silencio," I snap, but I don't have a wand, just the sauce-stained wooden spoon I took from the spoon holder, where Tanner placed it a minute ago and... well... I'm not Hermione Granger. I'm pretty sure Danny can still speak.
"I agree!" Eddie exclaims, putting a stack of bowls on the counter for Tanner. "Shut up, Danny! Seriously!"
"Really? That's how you're going to speak to me now?" she says, looking really upset.
It's strange. She's been exchanging some rather crude insults with Tanner all the time we've been in the kitchen, and she never once looked upset. Not even when he said he was sorry he called her a hoe, he didn't realise that it was a secret. I don't remember him ever calling her that, but Danny just snorted at him, saying something about saddles and whips that made him chuckle...
Seriously, I hardly ever have any idea what the girl is talking about.
She is not snorting at Eddie or firing back at him; she is just giving him a hurt look, her sparky brown eyes suddenly mutating into puppy eyes. I almost feel bad now.
"No, I'm sorry," Eddie says, "but you're being so aggressive all the time, and Tan and Molly are trying to help us."
"Yeah... well..." His sister is looking a little chastised now. Clearly, she is very concerned about what her younger brother thinks of her. "I'm tired of him thinking this is some elaborate game... an experiment. Our lives depend on this..."
"And I am tired of you treating my friends this way," Eddie points out, and he is about to say more, but Danny barks an incredulous laugh, looking from the short, chubby boy to Tanner and back.
"Your friends?! You really think that he is your friend?"
"Of course, he is my friend, and he is helping us! Don't you remember what happened yesterday? He beat the crap out of the guys that were hurting me. He is my friend!"
"I don't really know who was beating who up; I just heard screaming and thought they were hurting you." She is giving Tanner a once-over, clearly not convinced that he could beat the crap out of anybody. I don't blame her; he looks quite pretty in his apron, and he is rather docile when he's in a kitchen. I've seen him in action in fights on occasion, and I believe Eddie.
I am really curious now.
"You can be glad that he didn't beat you up for going after Hunter like that," Eddie tells her. "He thought you were a boy, after all."
Extremely curious.
Tanner puts a hand on Eddie's shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "It's okay, Buddy. Your sister is just really stressed, and I get it." He lifts his eyes to look across the span of the kitchen at Danny standing with crossed arms at the serving window. "This is your livelihood; I do not take it lightly. We've got this. Trust me."
With that, he turns back to our task and ladles some of the original sauce into one of the small bowls Eddie placed on the table. He'd heated some of the sauce made by Mrs Falzone in a small saucepan so that we could compare tastes.
"Please try it and let me know what you think," he scoops a teaspoon through the sauce and holds it to my lips. I don't even question it anymore; I'm becoming used to Tanner feeding me. One of these days, I'm just going to walk around with a bib and open my mouth whenever he is within feeding distance.
Like a baby bird.
In my peripheral vision, I see Eddie put an arm around Danny's waist while she's getting another order ready. My heart is aching a little bit now. They are going through a hard time. I need to get this right.
I've always wanted a sibling I could be close to. For many years, Saanvi was like that sibling. I give myself a mental shake, open my mouth and taste the chilli sauce Tanner is feeding me.
It is really good!
"Yummy," I say once I've swallowed it. "It does have a bit of a different flavour to it, but it's hard to put my finger on it." I take the spoon from him so that I can taste another mouthful. Savouring it, trying to connect the rich flavours with possible ingredients. "It has a slight bitterness that somehow enhances the smoky, spiciness of the chilli, but I'm not sure... Soy sauce, maybe?"
Tanner is giving me a rather sceptical look. He is right; soy sauce would make it more savoury, but it wouldn't account for that subtle bitter edge I'm detecting.
"It's worth a try," he shrugs and crosses to the serving area to help Danny put together a large order. I give a hand too, but it is really mostly just a hand, holding stuff, passing stuff, that kind of thing, because I have no real idea about what to do.
I'm relieved when Tanner finally declares that his sauce is ready to be modified. I'm starting to feel really hungry. I didn't have time to eat because he picked me up earlier than expected, and I'm starting to fear that my stomach might embarrass me by rumbling. That walk we had this afternoon has really stirred up my appetite, and the amazing aromas wafting through the kitchen are trying to drive me insane.
Tanner scoops a couple of spoons of his sauce into a bowl, and I use a clean teaspoon to give it a taste. I'm hoping I'll be able to tell what's lacking when I taste a sample that doesn't have that interesting, unusual spark.
His sauce is delicious, just as I expected, but it is a little normal compared to Danny's mother's sauce. I have no idea what's missing. I shrug, shaking my head at him. "Could it be fish sauce?" I have my doubts.
"No way!" Danny says with conviction. "Mama hates fish sauce; something in it doesn't gel with her. She says it leaves a rotten fish taste in her mouth that she struggles to get rid of. She doesn't even use it when she makes kimchi; she substitutes it. I don't even think we have any."
She's right; earlier, we raided the cabinets for spices and sauces, trying to grab anything that might possibly be good in a chilli sauce, and there is definitely no fish sauce in any of the cabinets or the refrigerator.
Tanner adds a few drops of soy sauce to the bowl I'm still holding, and we both taste it again. It is undeniably more exciting now, but is not what we're looking for.
He stirs dashes, pinches, and drops of various items into a few of the bowls he'd ladled a sample of sauce into. We systematically taste all of them, drinking sips of green tea between each test to clear our palates. Some of the bowls are really good, but one or two have us draining our tea cups to rid us of the surprisingly bad results.
If we cannot find the secret ingredients, we could always use one of the more tasty experiments; it could work.
Eddie is helping us by clearing the bowls for re-use. He empties the good ones into his stomach and the bad ones down the drain before rinsing them. The boy is having a ball. Danny joins in too, when she gets a chance, giving us her highly unwanted opinions about our ever-changing level of stupidity.
We mostly just ignore her. I can also see the nervous anxiety simmering under the surface of her tough act. I'm starting to feel sorry for her, but I still want to dump the contents of one of the bowls onto her head. Preferably one of the gross ones.
We are starting to run out of ideas, and I'm feeling a little nervous too. Tanner is still as cool as a cucumber, giving me encouraging smiles, patiently ladling samples and helping me taste them.
Seriously, who is this guy?!
I've always thought of him as volatile, irresponsible and sleazy. This Tanner, calmly doing his thing, bantering with Eddie and giving Danny long-suffering looks when he's not calling her Honeycomb or Peppermint Crips, doesn't fit with any of the ideas I've ever had about him. He has gone and broken his mould! I need him to get back into it because this Tanner is starting to feel like a real friend.
I know it is just an illusion.
"Coffee!" I exclaim, grinning happily at Tanner when the flavour suddenly hits me in a recognisable wave. I've been tasting the original sauce intermittently between tests, and the aroma suddenly calls out to me. "It's coffee!"
Tanner dips a spoon in the original sauce, closes his eyes and takes his time to savour the taste when he puts the spoon in his mouth. He finally opens his eyes, and his smile is making my knees quake. His eyes are like diamonds, reflecting the light in a multitude of colours.
I've never seen him look more beautiful than right now. He never ceases to take my breath away; I would've thought I'd be used to him now that we've spent so much time together, but no... it's getting worse. I need to get myself out of this weird game of his, and I need to do it soon! But first, I'll help him make the sauce. It was a promise, after all.
"You're right; I also taste it now, Moll. You're a genius!" He glances around, trying to find anything that looks like coffee. There is a small tin of instant among the tea containers next to a kettle on the bench near the washbasin. These items are clearly only used by whoever is manning the kitchen.
I'm feeling a little sceptical again.
"Are you mad?!" Danny shrieks when Tanner takes the lid off the coffee tin and takes a pinch of the powder between his fingertips. "You're not putting coffee in Mama's chilli!"
"Seriously, Max Black, you need a volume control knob! And while we're adding buttons to your menu, you might go for a channel changer as well," Tanner grumbles, giving Danny a butt-the-hell-out look. He's right; I mean, we're geniuses at work here right now; we don't need Screech-Zilla messing up our vibe.
"I don't think it's this, though," he says, washing his hands after licking the grains from his gloved finger. "Too weak."
We're back to digging in cupboards and nearly do a silly dance of joy when we discover a tin of Espresso powder. Tanner adds a tiny pinch of the powder to a fresh bowl of his sauce, and taking a deep, hopeful breath, I join him in tasting the new mixture. It is definitely the cause of the bitterness, but we're not quite there yet.
"Beer," Tanner says.
"To celebrate, I hope?" Danny asks, and I can now clearly see how frayed her nerves are.
"No, to put in here," I explain because I think Tanner is right about that.
"Beer? Really?" Danny is looking highly sceptical again, but I believe it might be her default setting.
"Something like that. Could be sherry or something else. I'm not sure; I only drink beer," Tanner says, and Danny's mouth suddenly drops open. She spins around and runs from the kitchen. Not sure what's going on with her now, Tanner and I follow her into the area behind the service counter. There is a row of cabinets above it, and Danny pulls one open, stretching to try and reach inside.
"What are you doing mia topolina?" Romeo asks, perplexed by having his space abruptly invaded by her. He has a laptop open on the counter next to the cash register and some notebooks and textbooks on the shelf under it. I think he might be trying to study between serving customers. Tanner steps behind the counter too, and reaches past Danny's questing fingers to bring a bottle out of the cupboard.
"Is this what you're looking for?" he holds it out to her, and she nods her head, smiling brightly. She is rather pretty, in a cheeky way, when she smiles. I don't like her smiling at Tanner like that.
She is way too cute right now!
"Yes, I've seen Mama use this when she's cooking. She keeps it down here because Papa likes a nightcap sometimes, and she's always telling him not to drink her cooking Whiskey. He never listens," she laughs. "Could this be it?"
"It definitely could," Tanner smiles and seeing the warm moment passing between the two of them, I suddenly want to go chop onions violently or puke into the kitchen sink. Either will be fine.
Finally back in the kitchen, far away from Danny, who is once again in the process of assembling an order, Tanner adds a couple of drops of Whiskey to the bowl with the espresso powder.
"I think this is it," I tell him when I taste the mixture. I don't have to tell him; I can see that he already knows; he is grinning happily, nodding his head at me.
"Thanks, Babe!" he suddenly surprises me with a high-five and crosses to the stove, carrying the espresso powder and the whiskey. "Need to get the ratios right, but these are definitely the missing ingredients."
We spend a few more minutes gradually bringing the big pot of sauce closer and closer to the right taste, and finally, we're there! Relief is washing over me in waves, and I can just imagine how much it must be affecting the Falzones.
"I want to taste it too," Danny says when Eddie excitedly pronounces our efforts to be perfect. She takes a spoon and is about to dip it into Tanner's sauce, but he stops her, turning her around to face away from the stove. "What the hell are you doing, Snowflake?!"
"I'll let you taste it, but I'm giving you two spoons, one with your mom's sauce and one with ours, and I'm not telling you which is which because I don't want to hear any of your bullshit." He is not taking no for an answer, keeping her in position while I get the two samples.
He hands her the spoons one after the other, watching her reaction while she tastes the sauces. "Are you sure?" Danny asks, removing the second spoon from her mouth.
"Why? Which one tasted wrong?" Tanner is frowning, looking uncertain for the first time tonight.
"I think you made a mistake and took two samples from one pot... are you messing with me?"
Grunting, Tanner plucks her cap from her head and puts it on his own. "I'm hungry," he grins, turning to me. "Have you had dinner?"
"No! And I'm starving," Eddie declares on my behalf.
"Me too," Danny says, trying to reach Tanner's head so that she can take her cap back. He is not making it easy, and I'm feeling a little disturbed by all the physical rubbing up against him that is starting to become part of her efforts.
"And I don't want chilli," she adds, stepping away from him when he returns the cap to her head a little forcefully.
"Was that your subtle way of asking me to make you dinner, Lemon Meringue?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"I wasn't trying to be subtle, Cream Puff."
♫
Ryan
My family is clearly not okay tonight. I don't like that. I'm sitting on the end of the table, from where I have a clear view of the back garden, down the length of the table and through the glass doors. That is not the view I appreciate the most from this, my favourite spot, at the table. I can see everybody from here, observe them, and gauge their mood and their level of contentment.
They are not content tonight.
To my left, Becca is glaring at her plate, sighing intermittently. Her cheeks are flushed, and she seems unreachable, lost in thoughts. I have no idea what is going on with her; she did not look like this when I left the office at lunchtime.
She told me earlier that she suddenly had something to do in town and left as well and that she'd make sure to finish all her tasks tomorrow. She really needn't tell me that. From my point of view, it is all about getting the job done accurately and timeously. I don't care where people work from or what office hours they keep.
When we have a project that requires us to work non-stop for a couple of days on end, I have no problem giving them time off to make up for it or paying them overtime if that is their preference.
To date, I've only had the misfortune of dealing with two people who took advantage of that. One reformed and is now a much-valued member of our company, and one lost his place. In general, the employees of Tech Stuff consider working there a privilege they don't want to lose.
Becca has been doing her part and then some. She is incredibly hard on herself. I sincerely hope it is not taking the afternoon off making her sigh like that. Beth noticed it too, and is planning on having a chat with her later when the house calms down for the night.
Next to Becca, Willow is listlessly dragging a fork through her food. She has a strangely lost expression on her face, her eyes guarded and her smiles not half as bright as I'm used to. Something is clearly eating away at her too.
On my right, in his high chair, Frankie is using his hands to flatten the peas on his plate. He has also painted a mash and gravy moustache on his face and is making Gorilla noises. I think Frankie is fine; he is always doing things like this.
Next to him, Beth is quietly eating her food, her worried eyes assessing the others. She tried to start conversations a few times but has apparently given up on that now. She glances at me and shrugs, looking distressed.
"You're not hungry, Bud?" I ask the person who is currently causing me the most concern. He has been staring at his plate for a long time and has yet to take a bite. I have it on good authority that the guy loves those sausages smiling at him from his plate.
Beth reaches out and strokes Hunter's hunched shoulder. "Are you alright, Honey?"
"I'm sorry, Ma, I'll eat it later. I promise. I'm just..."
"Did I put too much salt in the food?" Beth gasps when Hunter falls silent. "Or maybe I dropped a weird spice in again. Everything's been tasting a bit off lately. Is it bad?"
"No, Love, the food's great, as always, thank you," I reassure her when she seems to be on the verge of tasting the food on everybody's plates. The rest all murmur their approval of Beth's cooking skills, even Hunter, and he has still not taken a bite,
"Are you in trouble, Honey?" Beth takes Hunter's left hand in hers, her eyes darting from him to Willow and back. The kids are sharing a long, distraught look, and I am starting to really worry now.
"Willow? Are you...?" Beth starts to ask, and then she's squeezing Hunter's hand. "Are you two in trouble?" Hunter is starting to frown, turning to look at his mother, and Willow also seems a little more baffled than worried right now. "You know we're here for both of you, right? We'll figure it out, it's really not the end of the world, babies are wonder-"
"What?!" Hunter growls, snatching his hand from Beth's grasp. "Seriously, Ma, Willow and I don't even know each other long enough to already be in that kind of trouble! Come on!"
Becca is having a coughing bout now, and I pat her on the back, frowning at Beth, shaking my head when she glances at me. She just shrugs, giving me an innocent look.
This woman!
"Seriously, Missy, just ignore that," Hunter grumbles at Willow. The girl seems to be completely stunned, her face cycling through a whole spectrum of fun colours. "Ma is desperate for a grandchild. Hell knows why since she has a baby of her own, but I've been having this struggle with her since I hit puberty."
I don't know whether Becca is choking, laughing or crying now. She grabs her glass and skols her wine.
"Oh," Beth says, and I swear she's looking disappointed. "Why on Earth are you looking like this then? What kind of trouble are you in?" Her disappointment is being replaced by concern, which is much more normal.
"We're not in trouble; it's Tan..." Hunter takes a swig of his juice, clearly too upset to talk about whatever it is. I'm really starting to freak out now.
"And my friend, Ronja," Willow adds, and there Beth goes again, adding one and one and getting 372.
"Well, the same goes for Tan... I'll be happy to raise his child."
Hunter is choking on his juice, and Willow is about to crawl under the table.
"Seriously, Ma, people get into other types of trouble too!" Hunter gasps when he's able to speak again. "It's about his agent..."
He finally just lets it all out in a long stream that gradually makes my stomach fall into oblivion. I've lost my appetite now too, and I can see tears glistening in Beth's eyes. This is one dinner nobody cares about anymore.
"Why was he working for a man like that? Does Augusta know about any of this?" Why the hell did I not know? I knew he was doing modelling, and I also knew that he hated it. I didn't understand the glitter incident this weekend, but I think I might understand it now since Willow said there is a rather upsetting video involving Tanner and glitter paint. She didn't go into detail, her voice choking up and tears forming in her eyes at the memory.
Have I been living with my head up my butt?
"Dad, Tan never tells Aunt Augusta anything. He hardly speaks to her. He worked for Mason because the guy has no problem with kids working for him without their parents' or guardians' consent. I knew he was a bastard; I just didn't know how much of one... I don't think Tan knew either."
I think the parts of dinner I did eat are going to make their appearance again if I don't get out of here. Beth leans over and takes my hand in hers.
"It's not your fault, Ryan. It's not our fault. Tan is Tan... he does things because he thinks he's alone, no matter how often we prove to him that he's not. All we can do is be there for him now. Like we always are. We cannot force him to value himself. I've tried, but it doesn't work."
She's right, but still... I use my fingers to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"What about your friend? Is she alright? Do her parents know?" I ask Willow.
"She doesn't have a very good relationship with her father and stepmother, Uncle Ryan," Willow says. "She's afraid of him finding out and sending her to the boarding school in Grey Mount. She just wanted to make some money to go see her family in Sweden. She's very lonely here."
Becca puts an arm around Willow, drawing her closer until Willow moves her chair up against hers and places her head on her mother's shoulder.
"Oh, Honey, please let her know that if she needs a change of scenery or to get away for a bit, she's always welcome here."
Willow nods her head, smiling at Beth. "Thank you, Aunt Beth."
"Well," I swallow, pushing away my plate and rubbing a hand through my hair. "I'm going to go give Job a call, hear what he suggests unofficially. Hunter, get Tan over here; let him clean the laptop of anything he would not like others to see."
"Okay, Dad."
"Ronja can do the same," I tell Willow.
"She already has, Uncle Ryan."
"Good. Great," I say, pushing my chair back and getting to my feet. "Okay..." There's not much else to say, so I leave the table in search of my phone and a place to scream.
♫
Dannique
I seriously don't get these two. I asked Molly how long they'd been dating, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. She giggled and blushed and snorted and squeaked, and then she finally said: "We're not."
Tanner was giving her a very enigmatic look during her whole performance. I wanted to understand that look, so I asked Molly if she was sure about that.
"Have you seen the guy?" she said, pulling a face. "I think I would've noticed if we were dating."
Tanner was frowning at both my question and her answer, and then he shrugged, grinning. He clearly did not understand any of it. I did, though.
"So," I clarified for her. "The answer to my first question is 'not yet'."
Tanner had already turned away from me, so I didn't get to see his reaction, and Molly didn't answer; she just gave me a startled look and started helping Tanner pour his sauce into the freezer containers.
They make a good team. I was starting to feel a little envious, watching them do their tasting and joking, sharing weird ideas with each other. They are both passionate about cooking. I should be grateful they saved our asses, and I am extremely grateful; I'm just a little pissed off, and I don't know why.
I guess I wanted to hate Tanner and use him as someone to vent all my anger on. I have no idea why. Probably because he is so damn pretty and so casually confident and aloof, it rubs me the wrong way. I'm having a hard time hating him, though. He is cheeky and funny and extremely nice.
So unfair. I need him to be a jerk.
I think he genuinely cares about Eddie. Ramon pretended to care about him to get closer to me. He didn't just hurt me; he hurt my little brother too. I'm having a hard time forgiving him for that. Tanner was close to Eddie long before I met him, and I can see that his affection is sincere. He is making a mockery of all my assumptions about him. It's really annoying.
He and Molly helped us clean the kitchen and lock up when the customers finally began to dwindle, and almost all the chilli was sold.
While they made dinner in our private kitchen, I stayed out of their way, lounging with Romeo on the couch in our living room above the restaurant, pretending to watch the game show that had my uncle excitedly shouting wrong answers at the TV.
I was really watching Tanner and Molly, marvelling at how comfortable they seemed to be together. They enhance each other's talents and personalities, but I don't think either of them is aware of it. They're a bit stupid in that regard.
And here we are now, at our dinner table, and I have almost finished a massive plate of the best spaghetti and meatballs I've ever had. Even Romeo said something about Tanner having Italian blood in his veins, as if only Italians are entitled to make a pasta dish this tasty.
Tanner suddenly frowns and digs his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. It's on silent, vibrating in his hand, alerting him to the call he's receiving.
"Sorry," he says, pushing his chair back and leaving the table. "Hey, what's up?"
I watch Molly watch Tanner and would give all my savings - about 20 cents so far - to know what is going through her mind. I wonder if she's aware of how jealous she is. She nearly coughed up a hairball earlier when Tanner and I were civil toward each other for five seconds. She's one of those people who doesn't realise just how attractive they are, so they end up feeling threatened by everybody else.
It's not just her glorious hair or those dimples that make her lovely; she just has an air of fun and kindness about her. It's really annoying. So, she could lose a few pounds to look even better and be healthier, but that is not her main attribute, though she says and does things from time to time that make it clear to me that she seems to think that her weight defines her... and that she is enormous. She's not.
She is incredibly insecure. She has not noticed that Tanner obviously likes her a lot, and there's that jealousy again. Right now, she's narrowing her eyes suspiciously, probably wondering who the phone call is from. I'm wondering too, because Tanner is suddenly looking tense.
"It's with you now?" he asks in a voice even more husky than usual.
I glance at Eddie, but he is too busy fighting a flood of savoury sauce running down his chin to notice that something is upsetting his friend. Such a one-track-minded boy, my brother. It's all about food for him.
"Okay... yeah... just having dinner. I'll be there soon."
With that, Tanner returns to the table, and he seems a little less suntanned and healthy right now.
"Everything alright, Angelcakes?" I ask, and for once, I'm really acting out of concern for him.
He gives me an unconvincing smile and pats Molly's shoulder. "Yeah, we just have to go after we're done with dinner. I need to go to the Drakes' house for something."
Now we're all looking at him, drowning in curiosity, but the dude is obviously not going to put us out of our misery. He is wolfing down the rest of his dinner, clearly in a hurry to leave.
The Viking warrior next to him is no longer looking jealous and suspicious; she is definitely worried about him.
Ah, young love...
♪♫♪