Page 53 of Beautiful Trauma
“It turns out we’re both good at it,” Paul said with an amused smirk.
“You made the rub and sauce for the ribs?” Ezra asked, sounding as impressed as I felt.
“They’re amazing, Paul. I think you should enter them in the contest. What kind of jams do you make, Simone?”
Simone smiled and seemed happy to discuss her latest hobby. “I make several, but my favorite is the razzleberry, which is strawberry, blueberry, and raspberry.”
“It’s delicious on everything,” Paul told us. “I heat it and pour it over ice cream to make a sundae.”
“It sounds divine,” Ezra said.
“I’m glad you think so because I’m sending home several jars with you,” Simone told Ezra.
“Hey,” Paul protested. “You’re giving my razzleberry jam away?”
“Honey, you don’t need a dozen jars.”
“No, but I want them.” Paul’s petulant pout didn’t last long beneath Simone’s determined stare. Her expression was so familiar I couldn’t help but laugh. Paul grinned at me. “Henry, do you find yourself on the receiving end of a similar glare often?” he asked me.
“All the time,” I said, nodding.
“Two stubborn mules,” Paul said, gesturing to his wife and son. “Luckily, they always mean well.”
“So I’ve learned,” I agreed.
“Tell Henry about the first time you saw that look on Mom’s face,” Ezra said.
“The first time she aimed itat meor used it on my behalf?” Paul asked.
“Both.”
“The first time she used it on me was when I asked her out on a date,” Paul said. “She took one look at my UC shirt and dismissed me outright.”
Simone snorted. “I dismissed you outright because of your horrible timing and your rudeness.” She turned at look at me. “Paul was working as a soda jerk at Clancy’s diner where my date had taken me for dinner.”
“He was a real putz too,” Paul said drolly. “Babe, they’d stopped calling them soda jerks once soda fountains started disappearing from drugstores.” Turning to me, Paul said, “Back in the day, you’d stop by the drugstore to get your stuff and order a cherry Coke, a root beer float, or a malted milkshake to drink while you waited.” Drinking a root beer float while waiting for my meds sounded nice. “Once the drive-in restaurants and diners came along, the soda fountains at drugstores were forgotten. Kids wanted to hang out with their friends and listen to music on a jukebox or show off their cars at the drive-ins.”
Ezra chuckled. “Or motor scooters.”
Simone threw her head back and laughed while Paul glared at his son. His look was impressive but nowhere near as intimidating as Simone and Ezra’s.
“Laugh it up,” Paul told them. “That bad boy got me to work and school eight months out of the year. It got excellent gas mileage, and the ladies liked Steed.”Ah.Ezra’s laughter in the car made sense. Paul had named his scooter Steed.
“Yeah, it was a real chick magnet,” Simone said dryly.
“Get back to the part where you asked Mom out while she was on a date with another man,” Ezra said.
Paul looked at Simone and his love for her beamed out of him like rays of the sun, reminding me of the way Ezra had looked at me on top of the hill. “She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Poised, confident, intelligent—”
“You got all of that from looking at me?” Simone asked, leaning toward him.
“Absolutely. You strode into the diner like a queen who didn’t doubt her place in the world. Intelligence, kindness, and humor shone from your eyes like beacons to this guy who’d lived in the dark for too long. It almost hurt to look at you.”
“And you just had to ask me out?”
“I had to make you mine. I saw how awkward things were between the two of you and knew your date wasn’t the guy for you.”
“And you knew you were the one for me?” Simone countered.