Page 65 of Falling for You
Max sipped and thought for a moment. CeCe watched his throat bob as he collected his words. “Th-there were a lot of emotions these last few days. But sometimes that leads to magic in the kitchen.” He watched CeCe’s expression turn skeptical. “Hear me out,” he offered, placing his empty cup on the counter. “Evan and you clearly need to work through some things, but at the end of the day, he showed up to help us out. All three of us did our best, and that’s all we could have asked for.” Letting his gaze sweep across the food truck, he added, “Frankly, this was amazing. I feel like I won already.”
CeCe couldn’t argue with that logic. While Evan didn’t show up specifically for her today, she was touched he showed up for Max and the diner. “Good point.” She sighed.
The pair busied themselves with tidying up the food truck. No one would want to come back to a mess after the results. If they won, they’d want to celebrate. If they lost, they’d want to go home and sulk. While CeCe scoured the grill, she heard a familiar voice outside the truck.
“This has to be it, Pamela. It has Buckeye Falls on the logo.”
CeCe peered out the window to see Mr. and Mrs. Lawson stumbling along the grounds. Neither one of them wore appropriate shoes for an outdoors event, and it didn’t surprise her. CeCe whispered to Max, “It’s Evan’s parents.”
Max blanched faster than the vegetables they had just cooked. “You’re kidding. His dad is here?”
CeCe nodded and raked her fingers through her mussed hair. Having foregone any makeup for practicality, she pinkened her already flushed cheeks. “What should we do?”
Before either could answer, there was a firm knock at the food truck’s door. “Hello?” Pamela’s voice echoed from outside.
Max took off his apron and shrugged. “Looks like we’re letting them in.” Without hesitating, Max flung the door open and welcomed the Lawsons inside. “Good to see you both. Please, come on in. CeCe and I just finished cleaning up.”
Pamela stepped inside first, her designer purse clutched to her chest like a shield. She tried not to touch anything as she slid past Max toward CeCe.
Dale was not nearly as dainty about it. He stomped up the stairs and hovered in the doorway. “It’s so small,” he grumbled. Looking past Max’s shoulder, he frowned. “Where’s Evan?”
CeCe jumped in right away. “You just missed him. He went to bring our entries to the judges.”
“That’s nice,” Pamela said, although her tone didn’t sound like it was. “We were hoping to see Evan, you know.” She shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “In action, I guess.”
“Glad we drove all the way out here for nothing,” Dale said under his breath.
Max jumped in, retrieving a covered dish that had some of their samples. “I happen to have a little bit of everything we submitted right here.” He pulled off the lid and handed a small plate to Pamela.
Turning to give one to Dale, Max’s hand faltered when the older man stepped back onto the steps. “None for me. I’m not hungry.”
Pamela looked dismayed as she bit into one of her fritters. “Please, Dale, just a taste?”
Practically sneering at his wife, Dale finally took the plate from Max. He sniffed it like it might be poisonous before finally taking a bite from the fried enchilada ball Evan made. Despite Dale’s expression, CeCe didn’t miss the glint in his eye as he chewed. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he liked what he was eating.
“These are all delicious,” Pamela swooned at her now-empty plate. “Did you three really make everything in here?” For the first time since stepping into the truck, Pamela looked around the space with appreciation.
“Yes, ma’am,” Max replied, his voice dripping with pride. “That rectangle right there was Evan’s own creation. He took my usual enchilada recipe and found a way to make it portable.”
Pamela grinned. “He did? That was my favorite part.” Finally, a look of pride washed over her face. CeCe’s heart swelled at the sight, but quickly deflated when she remembered Evan wasn’t here to see it.
Handing Max back his nearly untouched plate, Dale turned and walked outside. Pamela hesitated, but followed her husband. CeCe had seen enough for her liking, and she couldn’t hold her tongue another second. Regardless of what happened—or didn’t happen—with Evan in the future, she knew he deserved a hell of a lot better than this.
Following the couple onto the grounds, she asked, “You’re not sticking around to hear the results?” That couldn’t possibly be true. Why spend the time coming out if they weren’t going to wait and see Evan?
“We should be getting back,” Dale said without turning to face CeCe.
“Thank you for having us,” Pamela offered lamely. For once, she seemed embarrassed by her husband’s behavior. Her feet marched in place as her husband strode ahead.
CeCe wouldn’t stand for this. She didn’t know if it was still the adrenalin from her interaction with Eric, the heartbreak over not speaking with Evan, or simply her dislike of the man standing in front of her, but she snapped. “This is ridiculous!” she shouted, stopping the pair in their tracks.
Dale turned slowly to face CeCe. “I’m sorry?” he asked, his tone hard and cool like the edge of a razor.
Squaring her shoulders, CeCe said again, “This is ridiculous. You need to stay and see your son and hear the results. You’ve come all this way.”
“We don’t need to do anything. And you can’t tell me how to raise my son.”
“You already did raise him,” CeCe began. “And, frankly, you managed to do a tremendous job. Although I think a lot of that credit needs to go to Evan. You raised a man who is creative, respectful, loving, and so giving. He would give you the shirt off his back if he thought it would help. He would do anything to make you proud of him.” She gasped for breath and realized that, for a second time in as many days, she’d drawn an audience.
