Page 25 of A Recipe Called Home

Jules glanced at Miles. “Should we do a lap to see if anything opens up?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He took her hand, leading her through the throngs of people, some more rambunctious than others, to the back corner stage. It was empty except for a stool, a round table against the wall, and a mic stand.

“Stay here for a second. I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing around the corner through what she thought might be the kitchen doors. A moment later he returned, carrying an identical stool to the one on stage. Setting it down next to its mate, he positioned the small table in front of them.

“There, best table in the house." He held his hand out in a gesture for her to step up on the stage and take a seat.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Jules asked, looking for the host to reprimand them.

“I think Jax and Roxy will give us a pass if I play a song or two tonight.”

“But you don’t have your guitar.” Jules’ heart rate jumped at the thought of him singing while she sat next to him on stage. Now she was nervous for a whole other reason.

Sensing she was uncomfortable, Miles folded her hands in his to reassure her. “I keep one here, but why don’t we get a drink and some food first? Then we can feel it out.”

Food was a good call. They didn’t eat much besides popcorn at the festival and her stomach now threatened to make unattractive noises loud enough to be heard over the music and loud conversations happening all around them.

Just then, a very pregnant woman with dark braided hair that reached her waist walked up to the stage, balancing a tray full of plates. Miles jumped up and wrapped her in a big hug, grabbing the large tray from her as Roxy’s steel grey eyes landed on Jules. Her skin was a beautiful honey mocha color that contrasted her bright eyes.

“Miles, I didn’t know you were coming tonight. And this must be the illusive Jules I’ve been hearing so much about,” she said to them both.

“Sure is. Jules, meet Roxy,” Miles introduced as Jules shook Roxy’s hand. “We just left the Heritage Days festival. Thought we could use a proper drink and some food.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jules. Sorry it’s so crowded. Don’t be surprised if he ropes you into a duet."

Jules pulled a sour face and laughed. She instantly liked Roxy.

They both ordered a drink with some truffle fries and a goat cheese flatbread to share. Miles said it was his favorite.

“Goat cheese flatbread in Riverbend. Never thought I’d live to see the day,” Jules teased.

“You’d be surprised at how much people around here love this place, especially the food. It didn’t catch on right away, you know how this town is slow to change,” he explained. “But after theRiverbend Chronicleran a feature on the renovations, people gave it a chance. Before Jax and Roxy knew it, they had to hire a full staff just to keep up with demand.”

“I’m happy it’s working out for them. The tale of the failing restaurant is all too common now days.”

“Jax and Roxy are not afraid of failure. Never have been. When I met them in Chicago years ago, they were running a pet spa business out of a warehouse in the commercial district. Did pretty well, too, until they had enough money to buy their own restaurant, which was always Roxy’s dream.”

Jules was in awe; taking risks wasn’t in her nature. Now, though, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life might have been like if she’d pursued her passion for cooking and went to culinary school or worked her way up in the restaurant world. Would she be happier or maybe more fulfilled? A heaviness settled in her gut.

“How long have you known them?” she asked, trying to focus back on the conversation.

“Oh, over a decade now, I guess. I met them when I moved back to Chicago after—” he paused, “high school.”

“Ah, I see. Sounds like they’ve been great friends, then."

She didn’t want to talk about that period of their lives. Not here, not in this moment at least. Luckily, she didn’t need to worry. Right then, Jax showed up with their beers, winking at Jules and saying a quick hello before rushing back to man the busy bar.

After that, the conversation stayed lighthearted as Miles talked about his students and the renovations on his house and Jules told him about her job in D.C. They were enjoying each other’s company but steering clear of anything that reminded them of the past. It was a delicate dance, one they were both expertly executing. After all, they had years to catch up on.

Later, the night calmed, and the crowd thinned with the noise level lowering enough that they didn’t need to shout over the table anymore. After eating, Jules excused herself to go to the restroom. Strolling back into the main area, a familiar song floated over the speakers. Jules stopped in her tracks.

On stage, Miles sang “Sweet Disposition” by Temper Trap. Even with her nerves dulled by the alcohol, she felt a constricting sensation crawl up her body. She hadn’t heard it in years, but she could still recall the first time Miles played it for her. It was after school, on a warm fall day. They were laying in the grass field next to the school, passing time as teenagers do when he placed his headphones over her years and told her to listen. She was mesmerized. The lyrics spoke to her. From then on, she’d always thought of it as theirs. But after prom, it became a hurtful reminder of what she’d lost, and she avoided it at all costs.

Jules' throat constricted as she made eye contact with Miles across the room. He was singing to her, again, and the rest of the room faded into the background. It was happening, again.

For a moment, she felt light-headed. It had been years since she’d been able to listen to this song with anything but a heavy sadness, but now she felt lighter somehow. The lyrics clicked into place when he sang them, like listening to a great song you hadn’t heard in a long time that reminded you of a past life.

Jules found an empty chair next to her and sat down without breaking eye contact. They stayed locked together in that moment until the end of the song, when Miles bent around to take a drink of his water. Finally, Jules let out her breath, pressure releasing from her shoulders and neck. She didn’t know what to think.

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