Page 16 of Mason Wilder
“I hope everyone is enjoying their meal,” Angel said, quieting the chatter around the table. “My daughter and I have cooked this magnificent feast to celebrate Prodigy’s success.”
“To the next generation of rock stars.” Tommy held up his glass.
Jessi clinked her water goblet against it. “We’re so proud of you kids.”
Mason turned toward Aunt Mary, who was dabbing her eyes behind her glasses, and he touched her shoulder with concern. “What’s wrong, Aunt Mary?”
She wiped her nose with a tissue, which seemed to come from an endless supply, either tucked into her sleeve or in one of her pockets. “I’m just an old lady getting sentimental, that’s all. It seems like just yesterday that you were a small boy barely big enough to sit behind your father’s drums.” She patted his cheek with a frail hand. “That was such a courageous thing you did at the concert. People could have been hurt, and you calmed them with your music.”
“Yeah,” Mason’s dad leaned forward so he could see Aunt Mary. “Because nothing evokes serenity like a Wilder pounding on his drums so hard that the walls shake and the roof threatens to collapse.”
Aunt Mary laughed and waved her balled up tissue at him. “You’re such a character, Jimmy. Always with the jokes.”
When everyone was done with the main course, the wait staff came to life and cleared the many dishes and plates from the table and prepared the little containers of leftovers that Angel insisted everyone take home at the end of the night.
Dessert was a feast in itself. Coffee was poured by the staff, but the sweets were delivered by their makers, just like the meal.
“I hope Tessa made one of her cakes,” Lucas commented. “Papi always makes Cuban and Latin desserts, but there’s nothing like a traditional chocolate cake.”
“I don’t care what it is,” Mason’s dad replied. “Bring it on!” As they waited for Angel and Tessa to bring out the desserts, Mason’s dad thumped a pair of spoons on the table, causing the water to sway in everyone’s glasses. A recognizable beat became apparent, and Mason tilted his head in order to hear it more clearly. He met his father’s gaze and they shared the famous Wilder smile. The pair of spoons at the side of Mason’s dish weren’t his instruments of choice. He preferred the butter knives to serve as makeshift drumsticks, but only one was sitting beside his formal place setting so he stole his dad’s unused butter knife. The edge of the crystal water goblet served as a beautiful percussion. As he crashed the metal utensil on the thick-cut glass, a sparkle of sound sprayed from its edge. The heavy handle of the other butter knife against the hardwood table, softened by thick protective padding and a cloth table covering, added a resounding beat, much like his bass drum. Together, he and his dad played the heavy rhythm of Prodigy’s debut single,Driven.
Tessa strolled into the dining room carrying a large round platter with a high cover. Her cheeks widened into a smile at the impromptu rendition of Prodigy’s song performed on the expensive crystal. She rested the dessert on the table and jumped into the chorus with an extra growl in her voice. The peppermill served as a microphone, and the high ceiling provided acoustics which showcased Tessa’s power without the aid of an amp. At the end of the song, Mason finished it off with a double strike to the crystal goblet which rang through the dining room as clear as a bell, and everyone applauded their little performance.
“Maravilloso! Wonderful!” Angel gave them a standing ovation as he clapped heartily. “But you do realize that was Baccarat.” He motioned to the crystal goblet. “You were banging a solid sterling butter knife on a three-hundred-dollar glass.”
Sindy choked on a gulp of water, then carefully removed the glass from her lips with two shaking hands and set it safely on the table.
Lucas gave her a pat on the back. “Don’t worry about it. It’s old.”
A sheepish grin passed over Mason’s lips. “Sorry,” he apologized.
His dad wrapped an arm around Mason’s neck and squeezed a hug onto his shoulder. “When my kid gets a beat in his head, he can’t control himself. Just like his old man!”
Alyssa, who hated the constant drumming, rolled her eyes at Damien. “And to think, I used to complain when we only had one Wilder shaking the house with constant foot tapping and banging on the furniture.”
Damien’s mouth quirked into a tiny smile and he playfully chucked his wife on the chin. “You’re married to a musician. What did you expect?”
She flipped her long black hair off her shoulder and retaliated with a shove against his chest.
“Oh, man.” Lucas’ voice bellowed when he saw that Tessa lifted the top to the cake plate. “I need a piece of that. Is the inside chocolate, too?”
“It’s triple chocolate.” Tessa pointed to the cake with her serving spatula. “Dark chocolate fudge frosting with hand grated coconut. Chocolate rum cake. And a chocolate-raspberry ganache filling. I made it just for you, big brother.”
Lucas practically drooled while he rubbed his stomach. “Cut me a nice big piece, will ya, Tess?”
“Of course.”
Mason couldn’t believe that they were home for two days, after being on the road for months, and Tessa cooked and baked a banquet and made the cool top she was wearing. “I’ll take a piece of that cake, too. It’s my favorite.”
“No it’s not,” Mason’s mom interrupted. “Red velvet is your favorite.”
Mason felt his cheeks flush. He was trying to be nice.Way to go, Mom. “You’re right.” He laughed it off. “That cake looks so good I forgot.”
“It’s OK.” Tessa held up the large slice of cake which dwarfed the small plate. “Next time I’ll make a red velvet. Here. You can have the first piece, since you’re a guest.”
Mason pointed his fork in a stabbing motion at Lucas and mocked his best friend with a laugh. “Wait your turn. You’re just her brother. I’m a guest.”
“Hey, Tessa,” Mason’s dad got her attention. “Guess what Mason did as soon as he got home from the tour?”
