Page 19 of Finding Basil
“He’s told me about you too. You’re carrying twin girls.”
“I am,” she said, smiling. “We’re very excited.” To her brother, she said, “Abuela’s making her potato salad.”
“No! Oh, hell, Herb, you lucked out. She doesn’t make it often.”
“She can’t always find the ingredients,” Sabrina said to him.
“Come on, Herb. You have to meet her and my mom. They’re in the kitchen.”
When Basil grabbed his hand, electricity shot through him, and he was gladly led into the house, where he saw the big, warm kitchen for the first time. It was absolutely packed with women, all preparing food, laughing, talking amongst one another. It was a sweet scene, and he almost hated to intrude, but Basil had no such reservations.
Herb was led to an old woman who was five feet tall if that, but her smile was exactly like her grandson’s. Sweet, welcoming and her eyes were like his as well, with those radiating beams of the sun. “Basil, is this your young man?”
“He’s my friend, Abuela, Herb. Herb, this is Michelle Jimenez, my grandmother.”
She wiped her hands on her colorful floral apron before she took his hand and shook it with a good, tight grip. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
The ladies all giggled when he said that.
“I’m Michelle, Herb. Herb and Basil,” she said with a tittering laugh. “Meant to be, I think.”
“Abuela, not you, too.”
“Hush.”
“I’ve heard of your famous potato salad. I can’t wait to taste it.”
She walked over to the counter and took a huge bowl into her small hands and carried it over, then told one of the other women to hand Herb a fork.
He tasted the salad, and he couldn’t help but moan. “This is wonderful!”
“Sweet onions, pickles I put up myself and a secret ingredient I won’t let out until my deathbed.”
Herb knew it the second he tasted the potato salad. He leaned down to her and whispered, “Thyme, and vanilla bean, just a touch.”
As he pulled back, he saw her jaw dropping. “No one’s been able to make that out.”
“I live for those two things in food. The latter in savory foods is one of my favorites.”
Michelle told Basil, “he’s a good one. I approve.”
Next Herb met Basil’s mother. She was taller than her mother-in-law, but had the same stare, right into Herb’s eyes, like she was exploring his soul to see if it he was worthy. “Nice to meet you. My son tells me you’re going to grow herbs.”
“I’m hoping to. With his help, I think I might get there.”
“I wish you all the best. I think it’s a wonderful endeavor.”
As they walked back to the table, Basil laughed as he admitted, “They are reading a lot into me talking about you.”
“I sure hope not.”
Basil glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and his face reddened sweetly. “Stop.”
“Not a chance.”
The food was amazing, and the dancing, laughter and conversation were even better. Herb didn’t remember ever having a better time. The family enjoyed one another. Theyweren’t a gaggle of obligations, like his parents felt of their families. They genuinely loved and liked one another.
The music gave way to spontaneous dancing around the tables, and the children joined in too. Even while they were eating, there were no long, quiet pauses in the fun. It went on right through the meal.
