LITMIR.BIZ

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Jake repeated what the chef had told him minutes before. “They also call them the black mushroom. Don’t worry. They’re good.”

      She looked at him in full amazement now. “You’ve eaten those mushrooms? You wouldn’t even eat garlic at the home. Said it wasn’t part of your culture. You, with your Cherokee-chief grandfather. You asked the cook to make you fry bread instead. Said the Cherokee were used to their own diet and they were in this country first and should be able to eat what they wanted. Then you used the table as a drum.”

      “I guess I was pretty difficult back then,” he admitted.

      “You were persuasive, too,” Cat added as she bit her lip nervously. “The cook finally made it for you that one time. She said it was just to shut you up, but she made enough for everybody. It was like a party.”

      Trust Cat to find one of the few good memories related to that place.

      Jake finished their order by adding roasted white corn with pepper, and truffle mashed potatoes. Then he checked with Lara and ordered a chocolate birthday cake with raspberry filling for dessert. He also asked for the crab cakes to please Max and some macaroni and cheese for Lara in case she didn’t feel like eating what the rest of them did.

      “Thirty minutes,” Jake said when he hung up the phone. He’d never spent that kind of money for a meal before and he was surprised to discover it felt so good. He needed to do something to mark this day. He was a father. Maybe not a regular one with Little League and all, but it was more than he ever thought he’d be.

      * * *

      Cat brushed the hair away from her face as she sat down at the table. She couldn’t believe it. Max and Jake had put a full box of purple candles on the chocolate cake sitting in the middle of the table. The men who brought the food had laid a white tablecloth over the folding table the older man had pulled out of the storeroom. The deliverymen had put real china plates down, too.

      There was a big Happy Birthday banner taped to the counter and Jake had explained earlier to Lara that they were celebrating all of the birthdays he and Max had missed—all four of them together. For once Cat was glad for the fairy-tale book. Lara took the party in stride, as though that kind of thing happened every day for good little girls like her.

      “They’re fish,” Lara said in delight from where she was seated. She was holding up some kind of macaroni on her fork and she was right; they were fish shaped.

      “The chef thought of using one of our French cheeses,” the thickset man who had laid out most of the food said. “But then he decided the little one might be more comfortable with some nice Wisconsin cheddar.”

      “Good choice,” Cat said. All those years she’d been a waitress, she’d never seen anything like this. As for French cheeses—who had the money for that? “Thanks.”

      Right then, Jake stepped back into the lobby. He’d gone to his room to change out of his damp clothes. She and Lara didn’t have their suitcases, but they had gone to a room and toweled themselves dry.

      “Now, doesn’t he look handsome?” Max winked at her from his chair as Jake got closer.

      “I’ve never seen him in a suit.” Cat feared she was blushing, but the older man was right. Jake was breathtaking in his dark suit and white shirt. He might have a whole closet full of clothes he wore in this new life of his. She looked closer. That suit was a tuxedo, even if the shirt was regular enough at first glance.

      “That’s his wedding suit,” Max said proudly.

      Cat felt her breath catch. Wedding! She’d never considered the possibility that Jake would be getting married. Or maybe was already married. If he was, that might change everything for Lara. Wicked stepmothers were the part of fairy tales that Cat believed, herself.

      “Who is she?” Cat forced herself to ask. She’d try to keep an open mind.

      “It’s his brother,” Max answered back.

      She blinked at that, but before she could ask anything more, Jake stepped up to the table and sat in the remaining chair.

      “What he’s trying to say is that I’m going to be best man at my brother’s wedding on Saturday so I’m trying the suit out,” he said. “Making sure it’s comfortable.”

      One of the men who had delivered the food placed the last glass on the table with a flourish. “That’s everything.”

      Jake reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of bills. “Thanks, everyone.”

      The man shook his head. “No need to tip us. The boss has us covered.”

      Jake frowned at that, but the man motioned to his coworker and started walking toward the door. “Bon appétit.”

      “Mommy, let’s pray so we can eat,” Lara whispered as the men left.

      Cat realized that both Jake and Max were sitting at their places and hadn’t touched their silverware or napkins.

      “It’s only polite in other people’s houses to—” she began.

      Max interrupted. “Go ahead. We pray all the time.”

      She could tell the older man felt a little awkward and that it probably wasn’t completely true about the praying. She looked over at Jake.

      “Would you do the honors?” he asked.

      She looked at him carefully. Even with the smile he had managed, he sounded reluctant. Was he cynical, as well? She couldn’t tell. When they’d known each other as teenagers, neither one of them had given much thought to God. Finally, she just nodded and bowed her head. She waited so everyone had time to get used to the idea. The last one to bow their head was Jake, but he eventually did.

      Then she began. “Father, we are grateful for all of the good things You give to us. We ask Your blessing upon those wonderful men who prepared our food. And we ask …” She paused because she felt a sudden sharp pain in her side and needed to wait for it to pass.

      “And please bless my very own father, wherever he is.” Lara rushed to fill in the silence with the words that had become part of her bedtime prayers lately. She’d never said them at the table until now.

      Cat couldn’t get her breath back enough to stop her. Lara had been curious about her father ever since she realized most of the other children in her preschool had one of those as well as a mother in their families. She had told Lara she had a father, but that was all.

      “I figure he’s busy like You are, God,” Lara continued, with her eyes closed and her hands pressed tight together. “Ruling his kingdom and saving the lives of little children. But can You tell him I said hello and that I’m having a birthday party and it’s not even my birthday and if he wants to come, he can ride his dragon here real quick, and I won’t tell anyone I’m a princess because he’s my father and—”

      The pain finally passed enough for Cat to speak, so she quickly finished the prayer in a strained voice. “In Jesus’s name, we thank You for all Your bounty. Amen.”

      Cat sat there for a moment with her eyes still closed. A better mother would have taken Lara to a child’s psychiatrist by now. She should have found the money to pay somehow. It couldn’t be natural to believe so strongly in something like that. Especially not the tale she’d made up about her father.

      When Cat finally opened her eyes, she saw that Jake was looking straight at her, his eyes glowering.

      She looked over at Lara. Her daughter was absorbed in eating her macaroni.

      When she glanced back at Jake, he’d turned to stare at Lara, too.

      “Have you ever seen a picture of your father?” he asked the girl.

      She shook her head. “But I know what he looks like. He’s a handsome prince with clothes that shine in the dark and he has a beard and he rides a dragon when he takes toys to little

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