Page 10 of Give Me a Reason

“What are you guys making?” She walked over to the stove and peered over Bethany’s shoulder. “It smells heavenly.”

“Tonight’s theme is”—her cousin spread her hands in the air, tracing an invisible banner—“southern France.”

“To start, we have warm, crusty bread accompanied by tapenade and aioli,” Uncle Paul said, matching his daughter’s sweeping tone. “Then for the main course, we have boeuf bourguignon with ratatouille on the side.”

“I wanted to serve the ratatouille as the main dish with some fresh fougasse, because I actually wanted tonight’s theme to beProvence,” Bethany explained while Anne nodded attentively.

She had a vague notion that fougasse was a type of bread, but she didn’t have the heart to interrupt her cousin to confirm. Bethany had obviously worked hard on the dinner, and that was what mattered.

“But my mom insisted on having some kind of meat for the main course.” Her cousin shrugged. “Hence, the boeuf bourguignon.”

“We’re Korean, sweetheart.” Uncle Paul chuckled, planting a kiss on top of Bethany’s head. Anne sighed wistfully, missing her mom’s easy affection. “We can’t invite a guest over for dinner and not serve meat.”

“What if the guest is vegetarian?” Her cousin cocked her hip to one side and arched an eyebrow.

“Then you hide the meat in the food so they don’t know it’s there.” Uncle Paul gave an exaggerated wink.

“Dad,” Bethany squeaked and slapped his arm. “That’s so wrong.”

“Ouch. I’m joking,” he said with a belly laugh. “I’m totally joking.”

Smiling fondly at them, Anne rolled up the sleeves of her champagne-colored blouse. “How can I help?”

“There isn’t much left to do.” Uncle Paul arranged the bread and dips on a large wooden board.

“Do you want to assemble the charcuterie board?” Bethany pointed her chin at another wooden board on the kitchen island, surrounded by different cheeses, nuts, and crackers. “You can scavenge the refrigerator and the pantry for anything else you want to add.”

“I would love to.” It had been years since Anne made a charcuterie board, but she obsessively studied every picture she found on Pinterest. “I’ve been dying to make a salami rose.”

“Knock yourself out.” Bethany snorted as she salted the boeuf bourguignon. “But don’t spend forever on it. This is just about ready.”

Anne lost herself in arranging the meats and cheeses, the wooden board her blank canvas. After a while, she stepped back and studied the charcuterie board, tapping her bottom lip with her finger. It was missing something. She gasped when she figured it out and rushed to the pantry.

“Yes,” she said under her breath, grabbing the bag of dark chocolate almonds. She dotted the couple of empty spots with the almonds and admired her picture-perfect charcuterie board with pride.

“That is a work of art, Anne.” Uncle Paul whistled, picking up his breadboard. “I’m ready to serve the bread if you want to present your masterpiece to our guests.”

“Thank you, Imo-bu.” She smiled, his kind words warming her heart, but she reflexively waved aside his compliment. “I’m sure it’ll become a mess within minutes of serving it.”

“That’s what pictures are for.” With her cell phone outstretched, Bethany pulled Anne away from the counter. “To preserve pretty things for posterity.”

“My charcuterie board is notpretty.” Anne gave Bethany’s shoulder a light shove, secretly pleased that her cousin was fussing over it. “It’s amasterpiece.”

When Anne and her uncle set out the appetizers on the dinner table, Tessa, Auntie Sharon, Coraline, and Joe dug enthusiastically into the bread and charcuterie board. But her father and a recomposed Juliette—blissfully unconcerned with the aftereffects of her dramatic exit—crinkled their noses in an identical expression of distaste.

After a pained perusal, her older sister picked off a cocktail cucumber and a celery stick for herself, and her father did the same. Anne took a seat at the table and piled her plate with freshly baked bread, four different kinds of cheese, ranging from mild to stinky, and some veggies with roasted beet hummus.

“Just because you’re not acting anymore doesn’t mean you should let yourself go,” Juliette commented loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Bethany gasped, and Coraline might have growled a little. Joe put a hand on his fiancée’s arm and shot Anne a discomfited but sympathetic look. She gave him a reassuring smile, even as she fought back a mortified blush. She had to step in before her aunt went Mama Bear on Juliette. They were both her nieces, but Anne was Auntie Sharon’s favorite.

“Actually, I might still act.” Anne popped a good-sized chunk of blue cheese drizzled with honey into her mouth. She didn’t address the actual criticism because she refused to tell her older sister to go jump off a bridge, no matter how well-deserved.

Besides, there was no malice behind Juliette’s comment. Anne wasn’t important enough for her sister to truly care whether she let herself go or not. Juliette merely said what popped into her head before she forgot her existence again.

And this tangentially related topic should be enough to distract everyone from Anne’s embarrassment. There was no need for her to waste her breath and energy standing up for herself. The careless put-downs wouldn’t stop anyway.

“You’re returning to Korea?” her father condescended to inquire, taking a bite out of his celery stick. “I was just getting used to having you in my vicinity again.”

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