Steady (20 page)

As she walked down the sidewalk, she passed by a small garden next door to the restaurant. She could smell dirt and the scents of herbs in the air, could see plants in rows, neatly marked in this well-lit little garden.

She walked up to the restaurant, which was housed in a mid-sized building with a small wooden sign reading The Vegetable Garden. She reached for the carrot-shaped door knob on the very old heavy wooden door, pulling hard to open it. She had eaten here twice before, and both times she’d found the food exceptional.

The décor mimicked an old tavern, with a huge fireplace flanking the main wall directly across from the entrance. She knew from her earlier visits that the bread was baked over that fireplace, a tribute to days of old, giving off an aroma that made you want to beat your momma. Old chairs, fabric-covered, large, worn and broken in, were positioned around equally worn wooden tables that matched the old wood-covered floors. There was even a scattering of small couches with coffee tables or ottomans in front, all the comforts of home but with a wait staff. A couple was cuddling on the couch, coffee cups in their hands, a plate of cookies on the table in front of them. Lights were turned low, creating a cozy ambiance.

A little boy stood behind the reception stand, barely reaching the top of the podium.

“Welcome to The Vegetable Garden,” he said, smiling. “How many are in your party?”

Katrina smiled back. “I am meeting one for dinner, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

Looking at her with interest, the boy said, “I bet you are here to meet my big brother, Darius? All the girls come here to meet him. He’s a very good chef, plus they want a man with means,” he added.

“Oh,” she said, surprised.

“Here he comes now.”

Clad in his chef uniform, Darius was indeed walking toward them.

“Thanks for meeting me for dinner,” he said, smiling while reaching for her hands. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite with you. I hear the chef here is a wonder in the kitchen, known for transforming fruits and vegetables into something you’d kill for.”

“I did bring my appetite,” she said.

Darius turned to the little boy behind the podium. “Katrina, this is my little brother, Sebastian. He helps out on weekends for a small fee,” he said, looking at the boy with pride.

“Sally will take over for you in ten,” he told Sebastian. “Mom will be here by then to pick you up.”

“Okay,” his little brother replied, younger brother idol worship in his eyes.

“Shall we eat?” he said to Katrina, extending his elbow.

“Sure,” she said, putting her arm through his. He led her back to a small room he told her was normally used for private dining or parties. It was empty now except for them.

“So when did you know you wanted to be a restaurant owner?” she asked, after she’d taken a seat at the main table.

“I started it about two years ago. Grew up loving to cook, not formally trained, unless you count endless hours with my mother and grandmother. My parents always had a garden. Our neighborhood was one of the last to get on board with the whole gardening thing, so they developed their own backyard garden. I didn’t take to gardening all that much, but I have the small one next door. But before you get too impressed, I don’t manage it, have nothing to do with it other than providing the land.”

“That’s okay. It’s a gift to cook as well as you do,” she said.

“Thanks, and speaking of dinner, may I choose something for you? Surprise you maybe?”

“Sure, surprise away,” she said.

“Wine, tea, or would you prefer a soft drink?”

“Tea works,” she said.

“Is there anything you don’t like, or are allergic to?”

“Nope, I have the constitution of a horse.”

“Give me a few seconds and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He was fine, Katrina thought, watching him leave. She should like him. Looking around the room, she paused to study pictures hanging on the wall. Old black-and-white photos showed African-Americans farming, bent over rows, picking cotton or holding up vegetables in their hands.

“So, you’re the citywide winner, what, ten years running?” he said, smiling at her.

She turned at the sound of his voice and thought,
What beautiful teeth you have, they go so well with all that smooth brown skin.

“No, just three,” she said. He pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

“So still getting the push from Amber to start your own business? She swears that you are the best she knows. It was how I met her and Claudia, at a small-business forum.” He then talked about getting started with the restaurant and what went into the running of one, pausing when the waiter arrived with their food, placing two plates filled with an eggplant dish before them. Steam and delectable aromas rose from their plates.

“Am I drooling?” she asked. He laughed, pleased that she was pleased. The main dish was followed by a heavenly dessert, fruit cobbler, and coffee.

“Wow!”
she said two hours later. “I’m stuffed; the food here is beyond delicious. You’ve created a wonderful place and food to die for.” Placing her napkin on the table, she said, “I had better get going before I grow into this chair.” She smiled. “I had a really, really nice time.”

“I did, too,” he said, standing along with her.

“Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Thank you for finally answering my calls, for finally meeting me for coffee, and for finally agreeing to go out with me. You are a hard woman to get to know.”

“I know, sorry, it’s just me. Old before my time,” she said, smiling shyly.

“Well, anyway, I’m glad you made it. Let me walk you out. I’ll give you a tour of my garden,” he said. “That doesn’t sound too cheesy, does it?”

“Nope, and I like cheesy, anyway.”

He laughed and followed her out, stopping at the small gardens for a few minutes before walking her to her car. She unlocked it and got in.

“May I call you again?” he asked, holding on to the top of her car door.

“I think so,” she said.

“But?” he asked, sensing her hesitation.

“I’m just looking for friendship is all,” she said.

“Friendship it is then,” he said, smiling back.

“Thanks,” she said, starting her car as he pushed her door closed. She backed out and left, looking at him in her rearview mirror, pleased and pleasantly surprised at how the evening had gone. He was almost too good to be true, and had provided a nice respite from her fixation with Will.

***

The clock on Katrina’s computer showed 7:30. Time for her to go home. She gathered up her stack of trust documentation to send back to the vault in some far off corner of the bank, having completed the last of her assigned account reviews for the month. Yay, team. She was required to review each of her accounts every eighteen months, and that usually meant either Saturday morning at the office or toiling after work.

Reviews required perusal of the original will or trust document that had created the account. Distributions from the trust were checked against the language of the actual trust document scanned into the computer file; review was vital. It would be a major breach to have handed over money for ten years for health and maintenance only to find out later that it was only to be used for, say, college tuition, or perhaps was intended for some charity. It had been known to happen. She also needed to review the investments, the oil and gas property or real estate if they were a part of the trust, and to make sure all distribution requests had been documented. This process was time-consuming, and more so for Katrina, due to the size of her account load.

“Girl, what are you doing here?” Amber asked, startling Katrina and scaring her out of her skin.

“What am I doing here? What are
you
doing here? You never work late,” Katrina said, her hand at her heart, trying to recover from the scare Amber had given her.

“I know, right? I’m usually so good. I finish well ahead of time, but I’ve gotten behind. It can happen to the best of us,” Amber said, coming to stand inside Katrina’s cubicle. “So I heard that you and Darius had hooked up for dinner. He must be really interested in you, wining and dining you at his place of business. That’s a good sign.” Then, after a pregnant pause, she asked, “So, how did it go?”

“It went okay.”

“Just okay?” she asked, walking further into the cubicle and sitting down, clearly in a chatting mood. “So no more Will then, huh?”

“I didn’t say that, but Will and I are just friends, anyway, working on the competition together. There is nothing else.”

“But that’s only because he said no. Are you still interested in him?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, although I don’t think anything will come of it,” Katrina said, shutting down her computer.

“So that means you’re going to see Darius again? You could use him to help you get past Will. You guys have more in common, anyway.”

“I don’t really like him in that way,” Katrina said.

“What’s not to like, Katrina? He’s handsome, he’s a brother, owns two—not one, but two—businesses. What does Will offer that Darius doesn’t? You have a lot more in common with Darius, I think. I mean, really, what do you and Will have in common?” Amber asked.

“We have a lot in common,” Katrina said, taken aback a little by Amber’s bold assertion.

“Like what?”

“Gardening.”

“Okay. What else?”

“We’re both concerned about the environment.”

“I’m throwing that in with the gardening,” Amber said, waiting a few seconds. “See, you don’t have all that much in common, but I can tell you how you’re different. He is Asian, you are African-American, right? He’s adventurous and you’re content to live every day with plants. He likes to travel, you’re a homebody. He likes women who are glamorous in their appearance, and you don’t even like to wear clothes that fit.”

“We’re both American, we have that in common,” Katrina said, clearly not intending to give an inch.

“So do the rest of the people in this country.”

“Okay, I think being outdoors working with plants speaks to him in the same way it does to me.”

“Okay, so you’re both plant whisperers, but I also have to remind you that you argue over gardening styles.”

“Maybe at first, but I’ve come to see the beauty in his style even though it’s different from my own. We’re alike,” she said defensively.

“I’m just saying it would seem easier to love someone who is more like you,” Amber argued.

“What does ‘like you’ mean? And you’re one to talk. You and Claudia don’t have the standard relationship.”

“What? Claudia is African-American, right? Her childhood was a lot like mine, same unsympathetic view of our way of life by our parents, same negative responses from people to who we are, same challenges. But we like similar things, same culture, get the same jokes. I just think you should find someone who has the same background as you, and shared goals—like Darius.”

“We do not. I grew up in a group home for the parentless. He had two parents who are still around. Someone else does his gardening for him.”

“But he has a restaurant that utilizes stuff from the garden,” she said, as if that made sense.

“Really, Amber,” Katrina said, starting to get a little angry. “Will and I have a similarity of sprit, and that supersedes race and all that other stuff. I think it is race you’re getting at, and it’s also the reason for this push toward Darius,” she added.

“Similarity of spirit? You are the only person I know who says stuff like that. Similarity of spirit,” she repeated, shaking her head from side to side. “Are you sure Will feels the same? I just don’t think it was similarity of spirit that he turned down on New Year’s Eve.”

Ouch, Katrina thought to herself. “I’m tired of talking about it, tired of work. I’m going home,” she said, putting her desk in order and then reaching for her purse, a little stung by Amber’s comments.

Taking the hint, Amber stood up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that last comment to come out that way,” she said and sighed. “I just want you to find someone to make you happy.”

“I am happy,” she said.

“You know what I mean,” Amber said.

“Let’s just leave it, okay? I understand. But I don’t know if I can like Darius just because I should. I wish I could. It would make things so much easier. But I can’t. Anyway, I’m tired,” she said, standing up and walking to the entrance of her cubicle. “Are you sticking around here, or do you want to walk out together?”

“I’ll walk out with you. It’s dark out and we have to stick together, look out for each other, right?” she said, apologizing again in her own way.

“I’ll meet you at the door then,” Katrina said, walking out of her cubicle.

***

Later on that evening, Katrina sat on her couch flipping through the TV channels, not really seeing the picture. Her mind went back to her conversation with Amber. Granted, Amber had offered some good points, but she could see only friendship with Darius. She didn’t like him beyond that. So what if her desire for Will wouldn’t lead anywhere? Outside of his teasing, it seemed Will wanted nothing more than friendship with her, excitement over her body notwithstanding—and even that hadn’t been inducement enough.