Page 53 of California Waves

“I’m very pleased. Your crew are doing a great job.”

Howie nodded, but she could tell he was proud of his work and his employees. “I told them to do an especially good job and do it quickly. Any friend of Mila’s always gets special treatment.”

Hersch said, “I think you’re a good family to know. Everyone in town seems to pull special favors when a Davenport’s involved.”

Howie chuckled at that. “We’ve lived here a long time. Have deep roots in the community. It helps.”

Hersch already knew Arch, and they clapped each other on the back like old friends. She watched as he met Finn and Damien, while Nick, her high-tech billionaire bro, sized him up. She was tempted to join the men to give Hersch support, until Mila felt a hand on her shoulder and found her mom leaning in. “Don’t look so worried. They’re not going to eat him.”

“I think I’m more nervous than he is,” she admitted. “We can be intimidating.”

Betsy chuckled. “We can, but let’s face it, Herschel Greenfield’s dealt with worse.”

Her dad was in his element. While the men, including Hersch, who had a beer in his hand just like the others, stood around, Howie piled things on the barbecue. In a loud voice, he said, “Who put tofu on my platter?”

Erin called, “I did, Dad. You shouldn’t eat so much meat.”

He made a rude noise, but added the tofu to the marinated chicken breasts and the hamburgers and the hot dogs that were grilling away.

* * *

Before long, they took their seats around the big tables to eat. Betsy sighed and said, “It’s so good to have all my children at home at the same time.”

In a booming voice, Finn called, “It’s not every day that you and Dad celebrate your wedding anniversary.” It was loud enough that every nosy neighbor in town could hear him.

Tessa had to cover her mouth to stop her giggles. Any nosy neighbor who’d bothered to peek over the fence might not have been fooled. The way she and Arch were looking at each other, hands held tight, spoke of a deep and abiding love—one that would take any couple down the aisle. Although, Mila had to admit, anybody looking at her mom and dad would reach the same conclusion. Maybe they’d been married for going on forty years, but Howie could never walk past Betsy without touching her on the shoulder or leaning down to kiss her cheek or whisper something private in her ear.

Mila had always believed she’d never find love like that, but there was Hersch sitting beside her, his knee pressed against hers under the table where no one else could see it. She felt a warmth and connection with him that surprised her.

When they’d finished dinner, Betsy said, “All I have for dessert is a big tub of ice cream.”

Mila said, “Actually, Mom, I think Herschel is taking care of dessert.”

They all turned to him as though expecting him to run inside and bring out a big bakery box. Instead, he said, “Who wants s’mores?”

There was a burst of delighted laughter. Nick even looked up from his phone, where he’d been texting somebody, to say, “I haven’t had s’mores in years. Is this for real?”

Herschel nodded in his serious way. “I consider it one of my culinary specialties. Who wants s’mores?” he repeated. Every hand around the table went up. He said, “If you don’t mind, Howie, I’ll use the rest of your hot dog skewers.”

“Be my guest,” Howie said, clearly enjoying himself.

Mila went to the kitchen and brought out the graham crackers, Hershey’s chocolate bars, and marshmallows. He quietly got to work with the intense concentration he seemed to apply to everything while the family gathered around to watch.

Normally, they all would have roasted their own marshmallows, but there was something about the way Hersch operated that made it more fun to watch. Erin was the first to speak. “When I roast a marshmallow, it always catches fire. But you have this amazing ability to just brown the outside without the marshmallow either catching fire or falling off the stick.”

Without shifting his attention, he said, “It’s a simple matter of physics and thermodynamics.”

It was such a funny line—about s’mores—and yet, no one laughed because he was actually serious.

He slipped the first perfect marshmallow off the stick and onto a graham cracker on top of part of a candy bar, then another marshmallow and another piece of chocolate. He topped it all off with a second graham cracker. With careful precision, he pressed the two crackers together, and like magic, the marshmallow began to ooze and the chocolate to melt.

To Betsy, he said, “May I offer you the first one?”

“I’d be honored,” she said, equally formally, and then as they all watched, Betsy bit into it. She literally moaned with delight. “Honestly, Herschel,” she said after she finished a mouthful, “this is the best s’more I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. It didn’t seem to be the first time he’d received this very compliment. Tessa got the second s’more, and as full as Mila was from dinner, her mouth was watering by the time he passed her one. Soon, everyone was enjoying their dessert.

Finn had a smear of chocolate on his lip, and Tessa was licking marshmallow off her thumb when Archer asked, “Do they teach this in astronaut school? Because you’re the bomb at s’mores.”

---