One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(39)
She ran a finger along the conservative neckline of her charcoal gray knit dress, ruing the fact that nothing was quite so unbecoming as stress sweat. All she’d wanted to do was swap recipes over the phone with Knox’s mother, Linda. That in itself was crossing a professional line, since she’d contacted Linda Briscoe on Saturday afternoon without Knox’s permission. It hadn’t taken much sleuthing to locate her. Her address was plainly written on the envelopes of the old letters and cards Granny June had presented to Knox and his sister, which now sat on the desk in Knox’s den. It also hadn’t taken much for Emily to rationalize the decision because the payoff would be worth it if she could wow Knox by presenting him with her take on his favorite childhood dishes. Or, better yet, his father’s favorite foods. After all, what was a little line crossing when Emily’s career was at stake?
But she couldn’t quite figure out a way to rationalize her split-second decision to accept Linda’s invitation to join her at Father of Light Lutheran Church the next morning. Emily had done a lot of things in the name of culinary excellence, but attending church was a first. True, Linda had refused to share any personal details about Knox over the phone, insisting Emily join her for Sunday worship. Emily couldn’t decide if Linda had insisted because she was lonely, or because bringing a newcomer to church might make her look good to her fellow congregants. Or maybe she just wanted to double-check Emily’s standing with God before revealing the secret ingredients in her barbecue sauce recipe.
Regardless of the reason behind the offer, Emily had agreed to Linda’s terms because she couldn’t shake the notion that the more she’d gotten to know what made Knox tick, the better her meals had become and the more impressed he was. Carina’s assertion that Knox was Emily’s muse had been a tough pill to swallow, but she’d been right. He was. And now it was time to take that inspiration to the next level.
Unfortunately, the more Emily considered how many lines she was crossing, the more certain she was that Knox was going to be royally pissed when he found out. She wasn’t sure there was a meal profound enough to assuage him. She swallowed hard. Guess she’d find out.
The charming, two-story brick and light blue house that Knox had grown up in sat in the middle of a long, unassuming residential street and was easily the nicest and most well kept on the block. The front yard was impeccably landscaped with a lush green lawn and perfectly trimmed hedges. Little touches of whimsy were everywhere Emily looked, from an autumn-themed flag showing a pumpkin pie declaring Pie Season!, to a family of painted wooden rabbits staged in the flowerbeds beneath the front windows, and a painted wooden sign near the front door reading Frog parking only. All others will be toad.
Despite Emily’s nerves, she had to smile at that. Maybe Shayla got her love of groan-worthy puns from her mom.
The front door opened before Emily could ring the bell. Linda Briscoe met her on the front steps with a bright wide smile and open arms. She wore a busy orange Halloween sweater featuring pumpkin buttons, dangling crow-shaped beads, and felt applique scarecrows, but it somehow seemed to go perfectly with her petite, slim figure, short, salt-and-pepper hair, and upbeat energy that reminded Emily very much of Granny June.
Emily stuck out her hand in greeting. “Linda? I’m Emily.”
Linda threw her arms around Emily and gave a hearty squeeze. “It’s so good to meet Knox’s girl!”
“Thank you. But, like I said on the phone, I’m his personal chef, not his—”
“If you say so, dear.” The next thing Emily knew, Linda had pushed a Bible into her hands. “Off we go. I’ll drive. It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to shuttle a young person around. My kids insist on driving me everywhere. It’s so obnoxious! As if I’m senile. You wait here. I’ll lock up and open the garage.”
Before Granny June’s injuries in the chapel fire the year before, she’d always insisted on driving Emily around, too. The last of Emily’s misgivings about meeting up with Knox’s mother on the sly evaporated. This was bound to be a great, if hair-raising, adventure. Not more than a couple of minutes later, Emily buckled into the passenger seat of Linda’s newer model hybrid hatchback.
Linda put on a pair oversized, round-framed sunglasses and backed out of the garage, pumping the brakes too hard and way too much. Emily braced her hands and tried to hold her neck steady so she didn’t get whiplash. No doubt about it, this was going to be a wild ride, the kind of hair-raising, pedal-to-the-metal ride that Granny June used to take her on in her tricked-out golf cart.
“Okay, here we go. Now, look over there at Glenda’s house as we pass,” Linda said, gesturing to a small, yellow-trimmed house on the right as they crawled down the street at a solid fifteen miles per hour. The car drifted right, as though pulled by Linda’s attention. “It looks like her oranges are almost ripe. Last winter, I helped her pick them and we managed okay for two old ladies, but let me tell you, the juicing was another—”
Emily glanced straight ahead in time to see Linda’s car nearly bumping the curb and headed straight for a parked car. “Watch that car!”
“Oops.” Linda jerked the wheel left to avoid the car, though she managed to tap mirrors with it. Not that she seemed concerned. “As I was saying…”
Rattling off her story, barely pausing for breath, Linda rolled them down the street, hugging the gutter, and occasionally swerving to avoid parked cars and trashcans. Emily hugged the Bible she’d been entrusted with, lest she be tempted to take over steering the car as they crawled down street after street, barely pushing twenty miles per hour.