hiding tears behind my hands. “I just don’t know w hat I did to deserve the way he treated me and I honestly don’t think I could ever step a foot back into that house.”
Padma gets up from her seat and sits in the one that’s closest to me. She throws an arm around me and says, “I know, honey. Don’t even concern yourself with it right now. You don’t have to talk to him tomorrow, next week, not even next month. You deal with it on your own time and terms. You’re the one who was wronged.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Now let’s go have some fun. I need a new pair of shoes and I haven’t had time to go shopping in months. You want to come with me? I can drop you back off at Tyson’s place when we leave.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
CHAPTER 17
Tyson
- - -
Tyson wiped his hands with a kitchen towel when he heard the doorbell. Jogging to the front door, he opened it and said, “Hey, you.”
Gabrielle glanced at her watch . “See. Told you I’d be here by six, and there’s three minutes to spare.”
Tyson waved at Padma as she drove away. “Yeah. You made it,” he acknowledged, taking bags from her hand and set them on the living room table. “I see you brought the mall home.”
“Yeah. Padma wanted to go shopping....bought some summer dresses for myself and a few other things.”
“Cool.”
“Smells good in here.”
“Yep...the food has been prepared, my dear, and now that you’re here, we can eat.”
“Okay. Let me run these bags upstairs. Be right back.”
Tyson walked back to the kitchen, taking their plates to the dining room table where he’d already had the silverware laid out. He grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle of Chardonnay.
When he heard Gabrielle coming downstairs, he waited before sitting, allow ing her to sit first, then he took a seat.
“So...” he said, looking at her while she eyed everything on her plate. “Dig in.”
“It all looks so good. I don’t know where to start.”
Tyson popped the cork on the wine bottle, poured then both a little and studied Gabrielle as she tried a sampling of the fish. He watched her eyes light up the same way it did when she tried the breakfast pastry he made this morning.
“Good?”
She nodded. “Excellent. Now I know why Padma wants some so badly.”
“Wait...you told her I was cooking this?” he asked, unable to remove the smile from his face.
“No. Around the same time you sent me the text, asking which meal I wanted, she was telling me how she wanted some of your pecan-crusted trout. That’s the reason I chose this meal...she said you cooked some for Prasad’s anniversary or something.”
“Yeah. I did...he and his wife celebrated three years of marriage last February, so I cooked a private dinner for them.”
“That was nice.”
Tyson was quiet for a few moments more, watching her eat and eating his own food. He took a sip of wine while, at the same time, watching her take a sip. He primarily took notice of the way her lips made contact with the glass. She was delicate in her movements, a true woman – not loud, boisterous, trying to display fierceness and independence like most women in society. She was just a woman. A lovely, young woman.
Tyson wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin . “So what else did you and Padma talk about?”
“Um...she wants me to work with a group of students for the community garden project, which I’m looking forward to. She said she was going to pay me...said that since I’m on my own, I have to support myself now.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yep. Oh, and before I forget, I have to warn you...I made the mistake of telling her that you made tiramisu.”
“Oh, no. ” Tyson laughed. “She’s going to kill me for sure.”
“She sure is,” Gabrielle responded. “Why won’t you make some for her?”
“Because I only make it on special occasions.”
“W hen you made it for me...well, for us, it wasn’t a special
Padma gets up from her seat and sits in the one that’s closest to me. She throws an arm around me and says, “I know, honey. Don’t even concern yourself with it right now. You don’t have to talk to him tomorrow, next week, not even next month. You deal with it on your own time and terms. You’re the one who was wronged.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Now let’s go have some fun. I need a new pair of shoes and I haven’t had time to go shopping in months. You want to come with me? I can drop you back off at Tyson’s place when we leave.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
CHAPTER 17
Tyson
- - -
Tyson wiped his hands with a kitchen towel when he heard the doorbell. Jogging to the front door, he opened it and said, “Hey, you.”
Gabrielle glanced at her watch . “See. Told you I’d be here by six, and there’s three minutes to spare.”
Tyson waved at Padma as she drove away. “Yeah. You made it,” he acknowledged, taking bags from her hand and set them on the living room table. “I see you brought the mall home.”
“Yeah. Padma wanted to go shopping....bought some summer dresses for myself and a few other things.”
“Cool.”
“Smells good in here.”
“Yep...the food has been prepared, my dear, and now that you’re here, we can eat.”
“Okay. Let me run these bags upstairs. Be right back.”
Tyson walked back to the kitchen, taking their plates to the dining room table where he’d already had the silverware laid out. He grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle of Chardonnay.
When he heard Gabrielle coming downstairs, he waited before sitting, allow ing her to sit first, then he took a seat.
“So...” he said, looking at her while she eyed everything on her plate. “Dig in.”
“It all looks so good. I don’t know where to start.”
Tyson popped the cork on the wine bottle, poured then both a little and studied Gabrielle as she tried a sampling of the fish. He watched her eyes light up the same way it did when she tried the breakfast pastry he made this morning.
“Good?”
She nodded. “Excellent. Now I know why Padma wants some so badly.”
“Wait...you told her I was cooking this?” he asked, unable to remove the smile from his face.
“No. Around the same time you sent me the text, asking which meal I wanted, she was telling me how she wanted some of your pecan-crusted trout. That’s the reason I chose this meal...she said you cooked some for Prasad’s anniversary or something.”
“Yeah. I did...he and his wife celebrated three years of marriage last February, so I cooked a private dinner for them.”
“That was nice.”
Tyson was quiet for a few moments more, watching her eat and eating his own food. He took a sip of wine while, at the same time, watching her take a sip. He primarily took notice of the way her lips made contact with the glass. She was delicate in her movements, a true woman – not loud, boisterous, trying to display fierceness and independence like most women in society. She was just a woman. A lovely, young woman.
Tyson wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin . “So what else did you and Padma talk about?”
“Um...she wants me to work with a group of students for the community garden project, which I’m looking forward to. She said she was going to pay me...said that since I’m on my own, I have to support myself now.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yep. Oh, and before I forget, I have to warn you...I made the mistake of telling her that you made tiramisu.”
“Oh, no. ” Tyson laughed. “She’s going to kill me for sure.”
“She sure is,” Gabrielle responded. “Why won’t you make some for her?”
“Because I only make it on special occasions.”
“W hen you made it for me...well, for us, it wasn’t a special
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