There were framed photos of the girls at various stages of their lives cluttering the end tables and shelves, along with lopsided ceramic mugs and children’s drawings, no doubt made by the girls when they were little. The whole place had a warm, lived-in feel, bursting with love and family.
How different from his parent’s large, pristine home, with its immaculate white rugs, entire rooms forbidden to little boys with sticky fingers, and the silence at their dinners in the formal dining room. While he’d never felt unloved precisely, he had felt like an inconvenience. One more thing to be scheduled into his parents’ busy calendars, always coming after professional obligations and their busy social life. He’d used to wonder, once he’d left for college, if they’d even noticed his absence. He thought he’d put his childish yearning for parental love away a long time ago. But being in this warm, cluttered space filled with laughter and chatter reawakened the old longing.
There was a long wooden table at the back of the space by the kitchen. Benches lined either side of the table, a chair at each end. The table was set with brightly painted ceramic dishes, plastic cups and pitchers of what looked like iced-tea and lemonade.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Malia said to Adam as their mother and the rest of the girls disappeared into the kitchen. She was a little shorter than the other girls, her frame more delicate, a gentle expression in her eyes.
“Starving,” Adam said, smiling down at her. This was the sister who had taken Shani in when she’d escaped from that bastard’s clutches. While they were alone, and aware he might not have another chance, Adam said, “Shani told me about what happened to her with that guy. And how you were there for her. You’re a wonderful sister and a wonderful friend, Malia.”
Malia colored slightly, her eyes troubled. “She told you?”
“She did,” Adam said. “And I want to kill that fucking bastard, excuse my swearing.”
“No need to apologize,” Malia said with a grin. “May the Great Spirit curse him, my mom would say, if she knew. He hurt my sister. She left us because of him. He stole a piece of her soul. If I’d had my way, I’d have cut off the son of a bitch’s balls and fed them to him.”
Adam barked a startled laugh. “Well put. If and when I find this guy, I’ll save you the trouble.”
Malia regarded him with narrowed eyes, clearly appraising him. “Shani looks happy. Her sparkle is back. I can see you’re a good man. Be good to her, okay?” She was smiling, but the underlying warning was clear. No one was going to hurt her sister again.
“Absolutely,” Adam affirmed, glad this spitfire of a sister was in Shani’s corner. “We’re still new together, but your sister has already captured my heart.”
Before Malia could reply, the door to the kitchen swung open and the women entered carrying bowls and platters of food. Shani set down a large basket covered by a cloth napkin and gestured to Adam. “Come sit down.”
As Malia and he moved toward the table, Shani directed, “You sit at this end.”
As he took his seat, Adam’s mouth watered in anticipation. Shani’s mom sat at the other end. The girls took their places along either side of the table, Shani just to his right, Malia to his left.
Everyone began passing pitchers, platters, bowls and baskets around the table, filling their plates along the way. Adam chose the lemonade for his drink, which was tart and not overly sweet, just the way he liked it.
He took more food than he was probably going to be able to eat, but he couldn’t resist—it all looked and smelled so wonderful. There was a hearty vegetable stew comprised of corn, beans and squash in a savory broth, along with sizzling hot fried green tomatoes. The basket contained golden, frisbee-sized discs of deep-fried softly puffed bread. Adam tore off a piece and took a bite, an involuntary moan escaping his lips. “This is delicious,” he enthused. “What is this?”
“You never had fry bread?” Shani exclaimed with disbelief.
Adam shook his head. “Everything is so delicious. But this bread—man, I can’t get enough of it. It’s so flavorful. And I love the texture. Warm and crispy on the outside and chewy inside. I could eat that entire basket.”
Nina smiled, clearly pleased.
“It’s one of the first things Mama taught all us girls to cook,” Shani said, smiling at her mom, who beamed back at her. “It’s just flour, salt, baking powder and water, deep-fried in shortening, but there’s a secret ingredient that makes Mama’s the best.”
“That’s right,” Chenoa, the youngest of the girls, piped up. “Mama taught us you need to say a special prayer so it comes out soft and delicious. You have to put good thoughts into it because you’re feeding your family.”
“Yep,” the girl Adam was pretty sure was named Yareli added, “You don’t want to cook if you’re angry or upset because that will get into the food. You need to be happy and loving when you make fry bread.”
“But don’t eat too much,” Malia cautioned. “This is our biggest meal of the day, and you’ll want to save room for the main course.”
“Good thing I have a hollow leg,” Adam said with a laugh. “Bring it on.”
The main course was skillet-fried, crusted catfish covered in a deliciously seasoned cornmeal batter with a touch of heat. The side dish was a cold salad made with brown rice, cranberries, green onions and various greens he couldn’t quite identify, lightly coated in a simple but delicious herb dressing that had a touch of sweetness.
The girls talked and laughed during the meal, updating Shani on her niece and nephews’ latest accomplishments and mishaps, and plying her with questions about her life on the island. Shani handled the barrage well, giving them a G-rated version of her life, with a focus on the sense of community and the amenities of the beach resort rather than her BDSM-themed job as a staff slave.
They grilled Adam on his career, his background, and yes, his intentions toward their sister. Interestingly, Nina stayed mostly silent, her eyes moving from Shani to him as she listened to his answers. Adam, taking Shani’s cue, left the BDSM out of the equation as he talked. He told them about his leather work and how it had led him to travel all over the world, selling his wares and learning new techniques. He told them about his latest adventure in Australia, where he’d studied with artisans of an Aboriginal tribe known for its beautiful leather dyes.
As he talked, Shani took his hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. He met her gaze with a smile. He was grateful she’d included him in this family reunion, and all the more furious at that bullying asshole who’d made her feel she needed to flee from all she’d loved. Though, if that hadn’t happened, he’d never have met her. While he’d only known her a short time, he could no longer imagine a life without her in it.
Though he didn’t think he could eat another bite, yet more food was brought after the main course. Dessert included blackberry pudding and a sweet cornmeal pudding delicately flavored with molasses and cinnamon that was one of the best things Adam had ever tasted in his life.
Finally, stuffed to the gills, he pushed back from the table, putting his hands on his stomach. “I’ve eaten all kinds of food all over the world, and I’m telling you sincerely, Nina,” he said, smiling down the table at Shani’s mom, “your cooking rivals that of the top chefs out there. Thank you so much for allowing me into your lovely home. I’m truly honored by your kindness and generosity.”