Or soon-to-be-infamous. Hey, Mom. Thanks for asking me to dinner. I cant believe you forbid me to bring anything. Though she obviously needed no help on the dessert front, I would have been happy to bake some bread or whip up a special vinaigrette for the salad.
When you invite Michelangelo over, you dont ask him to paint your garage, my father proclaimed, walking into the room with Lana on his shoulders. He was a hearty bear of a man, undiminished by age, and in his crimson university sweatshirt, he looked almost young. Except for the dashes of silver in his close-cut sandy blond hair.
My mother waved me toward a well-worn kitchen chair. Sit, sit. Tell us more about this tour. You mentioned your consultant has come to town?
Oooh. Carrie took the seat next to me. Will you get your own hair and makeup people, too?
I dont think it works exactly like that. Hargrave had already invested in Dylans fee, which I knew was far more financial backing than many authors got. I was investing some of my own money in promotion and image, too, of course, but I was hoarding as much of the advance as possible, the specter of unemployment looming in the back of my mind. Hes just here to help me polish my image before I go on television.
My father lowered his granddaughter to play with her sister. With Lana in pigtails and yellow overalls and Lyssa in a ponytail and pink jumper, the girls looked like bookends.
He straightened, beaming at me. Your mother and I plan to videotape every single appearance.
Nothing said pressure like knowing any gaffe you made would be forever accessible through the modern miracle of rewind. Thatssweet of you guys. But not all of it will be local.
Some of the cable showsmostly of the Good Morning varietywere in neighboring states like North Carolina and Georgia and would only air within a certain radius. I was trying to wrap my mind around the task of being coherent at seven in the morning, much less sassy and sensual. Shudder.
Dad headed toward the stove, inhaling the fragrance of Moms slow-cook spaghetti sauce. When he picked up a spoon and nudged aside the blue pot lid, however, Mom brandished a plastic spatula at him. (So thats where I get it from.)
Stay out of there, she ordered. Youll end up double-dipping and sharing your germs with everyone else.
Nice to know my family drew the line at sharing something.
As we all pitched in to set the table, I answered questions about the book, even though most had already been asked on previous occasions. Yes, it would be available at all the major bookstores. No, I didnt expect to become a household name. Yes, I was a little nervous about the interviews, and yes, I still planned to keep my job at Spicy Seas. Granted, that plan was growing more tenuous by the day, but I kept the thought to myselfa concept rarely witnessed under the Scott roof.
Youre sure its such a good idea for you to work there? my mom asked as she piled noodles on a daisy-print plate. That Trevor broke your heart.
Not really, I mumbled from the refrigerator, where I was pulling out store-bought salad dressings.
No need to put on a brave face for us, Carrie said. If you ask me, he behaved like a complete j-e-r-k.
I chuckled at her rated-E-for-everyone editing. If she was going to go to the trouble of spelling out the word, she might as well have used one of the doozies.
But the two of you were together such a long time, my mother pressed. You were planning a wedding!
Planning to plan a wedding, Mom. Sure, wed been busy with the restaurant, but I saw now that hed been in no hurry to take our relationship to the next level. Neither had I, to be honest.
Were here when you finally decide to talk about it, my father chimed in as he buckled Lana into one of the two high chairs. My dad was an exception from a generation of men known for limiting conversation to grunted monosyllables during the commercials of televised sporting events.
Thanks, Dad. But its been six months. I think Im pretty well over it.
Wonderful, my mother said, as we all sat down. Then youll have a new man in your life soon? Were anxious to hear all about him.
Thank God my mom is the person from whom Id inherited my cooking skillsno one could resist digging into a meal shed fixed, which gave me respite from all the well-meaning conversational prompts.
With equal parts ceremony and exaggerated patience, everyone waited until after dinner before they began demanding a peek at The Book. We fed you first because we didnt want to be rude, Mom said, as we cleared the table, but the suspense is killing us!
Nods of assent came from all around the kitchen, general agreement that I was risking their collective lives.
All right. I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. But dont feel like you have to read it. I mean, if cookbooks arent usually your thing, anyway, I dont want you to think that, just because I wrote it, youre obligated
Nonsense, Dad interrupted. My little girl is having a book published. I for one will be reading it cover to cover.
Shoot me now.
And Im ordering dozens of copies, my mom added. Ill give them out to everyone I know!
That should make for quite the Ladies Auxiliary meeting.
I went to the foyer and picked up the box, which seemed even heavier than I remembered. Id no sooner set it on the kitchen table than four pairs of hands reached for the flaps and began extracting copies. My brother got the first one, and his eyes widened at the bright red cover. Lyssa stood on tiptoe to peer curiously over the edge of the table, and Carrie reached out one hand to shield the three-year-olds eyes.
Is she wearing anything? My father, sounding more intrigued than judgmental, stared at the book Eric held.
Food, my mom answered, pulling out her own copy.
Well. Eric grinned. Nice rackof lamb. Hes often said that being stuck in permanent adolescence is what helps him relate so well to his students.
Hey! Mom had opened her book and was inspecting the dust jacket. Theres a picture of Miriam in here.
Is she wearing anything? Eric smirked in my direction.
My father smacked him in the shoulder with one of the author copies.
Carrie had taken the nonlinear approach of randomly flipping through pages and was reading aloud. Brownies to Bring Him to his Knees, or any other position you want him in.
Eric wolf-whistled. Mom, Dad, maybe you could keep the girls for a weekend sometime soon?
My cheeks heated. Somewhere in America, there must be parents who would be mortified by their daughter writing Joy of Cooking meets Joy of Sex, but not in this kitchen.
I wish youd written this a couple of years ago, honey, my mother said. Your father went through this period where
Mother! I jolted out of my chair, thinking oh, the humanity. I will never ask you for another thing if you promise not to finish that sentence.
She blinked at me. Sorry. I was being supportive. Im really excited about this book, and the tour. Its all so unlike you!
As complimentary as shed no doubt intended that to be, it somehow felt like a reverse insult.
Absolutely, Carrie chimed in. Youve always been so closed off, sweetie.
As complimentary as shed no doubt intended that to be, it somehow felt like a reverse insult.
Absolutely, Carrie chimed in. Youve always been so closed off, sweetie.
Closed off? Because I didnt discuss my sex life over dinner, or sit around asking everyone to analyze a weird dream Id had or, as Eric was wont to do, pick up a newspaper and make an announcement whenever I headed for the restroom?
When my cell phone chirped, I dove for my purse like a carb-addict for the last croissant. Miriam Scott.
Miriam, its Dylan. His voice poured across the line, whiskey-smooth. Is this a bad time?
In the course of history, there has never been a time this good.
There was a pause before he chuckled. Right, then. I wanted to let you know I finished reading your book.
Oh. And what had been his reaction to Brownies to Bring Him to his Knees? I wasnt sure I wanted to know.
I dont want to interrupt your evening, but you said you were accustomed to keeping late hours. Im a night owl, too, actually, so if you arent otherwise engaged after the family dinner, would you like to get started tonight? We could meet at your place. Youll probably be more comfortable there than at my hotel, and well need somewhere private for the videotaping.
Hed explained last night that one of the first things we would do was tape me, then work from there once wed viewed the results. Wont that be fun? I hadnt been this excited since my root canal in college.
Or, Dylan said when it became clear that my un-enthusiastic silence was stretching on with no end in sight, we can start fresh in the morning. Entirely your choice.
Spend time with the man who left me tongue-tied, sweaty-palmed and aching to follow every piece of advice between the pages of my book, or stay here and be further traumatized by mental images of my parents love life. How soon can you get to my place?