Burn For You

35

I wanted to kick myself for using him to try to make Trace jealous. It was a selfish, childish thing to do. Though it seemed we’d both enjoyed that kiss, if the tables were turned and I’d been the one being used for revenge, I wouldn’t have been happy about it.

Whatever Jackson’s opinion of me had been before, after last night it must be lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.

In the morning, I stopped by Mama’s as usual. I found her in bed, drenched in sweat, miserable with nausea.

Her pillow was covered in hair, which had started to fall out of her head in clumps.

“How did the event go, chère?” she whispered, wincing when I turned on the bedroom light.

Fighting back tears at how bad she looked, I sat on the bed next to her and held her hand. It felt clammy and frail. “It went fine, Mama. Great, in fact. Everyone loved the food.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Of course they did. You’re the best cook in Louisiana.”

“Next to you.”

Her smile was faint. “And how did you get along with the infamous Mr. Boudreaux? Was he as ornery as usual?”

I thought about how to answer that, about how Rayford had said of Jackson If you’re treated like a stray dog long enough, you start to believe it and act like one. And something my father had once told me that had stuck with me for years. Fate is just the sum of all our bad decisions. And something Jackson himself had told me.

That was before I became such a disappointment.

I said, “I think sometimes it’s easier for a man to be the worst version of himself than to let the world keep breaking his heart.”

Mama cracked open an eye. “You been hittin’ the sauce this morning, baby?”

I sighed deeply, fighting exhaustion. “I wish. A nice little soul-numbing habit would go a long way on a day like this. But never mind me, what can I get you to eat?”

At the mention of food, her complexion turned faintly green. “Lord, please don’t talk to me about food.”

“You have to eat something, Mama,” I insisted. “You need your strength. How about some applesauce or white rice? A bit of boiled chicken?”

Mama weakly waved me away. “Nothing. I couldn’t keep it down, baby. Just let me sleep for a bit, I’ll feel better later.”

But I knew she wouldn’t. I knew this was going to be one of the bad days, the days when she’d never even make it out of bed.

I put a fresh pillow under her head, kissed her cheek, and turned off the light on my way out of the room. I knew I couldn’t leave her alone all day. I’d have to come back before first seating at the restaurant to check on her. Her doctor had mentioned the possibility of having a home health-care nurse stop by a few times a week during the day to help out, and that was looking like a good idea.

I’d thought I could take care of everything myself—running the restaurant and whatever Mama needed in terms of support and daily care—but I was beginning to have my doubts.

The second round of chemo started in a few days. If it was anywhere near as bad as the first, I was going to need an army of help.

I boiled a chicken breast and some plain white rice and left it in the fridge with a note in case she felt a little better later. When I was about to leave, an envelope on the kitchen table caught my eye.

It was from the hospital. It hadn’t been opened.

I slid my finger under the glued flap, removed the folded piece of paper, and all the blood drained from my face.

INVOICE. Big, blocky letters screamed from the upper right-hand corner.

When I read the amount due at the bottom, I sank into the kitchen chair.

Then I had myself a good, long cry.

BIANCA’S BLACKBERRY & BOURBON COBBLER

Makes 8–10 servings

· 12 cups fresh blackberries

· ¾ cup raw sugar

· ¼ cup high-quality bourbon

· cooking spray

· ½ vanilla bean

· 1 cup granulated sugar

· 2 cups all-purpose flour

· 1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons baking powder

· ½ teaspoon table salt

· 1 teaspoon lemon zest

· 1½ cups milk

· 1 egg

· ¾ teaspoon vanilla extract

· 6 tablespoons butter, melted

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine blackberries, raw sugar, and bourbon in a large bowl. Transfer mixture to a 13² x 9² baking dish lightly greased with cooking spray.

2. Split vanilla bean, and scrape seeds into granulated sugar, making sure vanilla bean seeds are distributed evenly.

3. Sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and granulated sugar mixture into a large bowl. Stir in lemon zest. Whisk together milk, egg, and vanilla extract, and then stir into dry ingredients. Add melted butter and stir.

4. Pour batter evenly over fruit. Place dish on a baking sheet.

5. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour and 10 minutes or until crust is deep golden brown.