Relative Strangers
Page 26
His message was a photo — a messy kitchen counter with a few packages of ramen noodles and various other items. He wrote, Apparently I’m no better at shopping and cooking in NY than I was in WI. Any ideas here? I have a couple pans. And a fork. And running water.
I couldn’t help smiling. I enlarged the photo to get a better look. Eggs. American cheese. Sour cream and onion potato chips. Deli ham. Oh, Luke . . . He was such a bachelor. But this actually had prospects.
OH AND MEASURING CUPS. I HAVE MEASURING CUPS.
Progress! I wrote.
Baby steps, he replied.
Yes. Baby steps. I wrote: Do you have a small pan with a lid?
He sent a photo of exactly the right pan — small and deep enough to be able to cover an egg with noodles.
I wrote, Perfect. I might be able to finesse a creamy ham and cheese ramen with a poached egg and potato chip topping, but after all, I am an Iron Chef. But you? I don’t know . . .
He wrote back: Oh come on. Give me a chance. I’ve learned a lot. Like not to add jelly beans.
I laughed out loud. We had inside jokes — not as many as Gab and Daniel, but it was something. And maybe, in time, we’d have more.
Okay, I wrote. But you have to do EXACTLY AS I SAY. Step one: FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS ON THE PACKAGE EXACTLY. YES, USE THE FLAVOR PACKET. AND A TIMER. USE A TIMER. Step two: while it simmers, crack an egg into a small bowl. Slice two pieces of cheese and two pieces of ham into strips the width of a black piano key.
Luke: THANK YOU FOR CONVERTING THE RECIPE INTO UNITS I UNDERSTAND.
Me: I HAVE LEARNED THINGS, TOO.
Understatement of the century.
Me: Step three: when timer goes off, add ham and cheese and stir until cheese melts. Step four: carefully drop egg in and use a fork to cover it with noodles. Step five: cover and turn off heat and wait four minutes. Step six: transfer to bowl and crush some potato chips over the top. Step seven: EAT.
He wrote, *cracks knuckles* I’M GOING IN. STAY TUNED FOR PHOTO.
A warm feeling spread through my chest.
Happiness. Hope.
I looked out at the evening sky as the day gave up the ghost. A last bit of coral glowed at the horizon as the sun disappeared. Soon the velvet sky would glimmer with stars.
When Luke messaged the photo of his dinner, it looked exactly as it was supposed to. It’s so good! he wrote. Finally got something right.
I wrote, Excellent work, Ramen-san.
I learned from the best, he replied.
I sent a smiley.
The first stars twinkled against the dark sky. I leaned back and breathed in the soft night air, rich with the exquisite smell of the roses. Soon their blooms would fade, and then they’d be gone, and summer with them. That familiar ache of loss washed over me, but rather than sinking into gloom, I paused to examine the feeling, that tendency of mine to lament what isn’t. I tried to observe it without judgment, the way Gab’s mom had taught me.
Things bloom and then they die, yes. But so many things happen in between, some of them staggeringly beautiful in their own right: The glorious foliage of fall. The pristine, crystalline beauty of winter. And didn’t I start this year longing for the particular heady wonders of spring?
Why was it so easy to lose sight of what I had? The truth was, I wouldn’t trade any of it.
Perhaps the secret of contentedness lay in being attentive to what is rather than what is not. Being fully present in each season, each moment, appreciating what treasures it offers — and trusting that other treasures, maybe even unexpected ones, could be waiting around the corner.
I reached for my phone. You still there?
Yes, he wrote. I’m right here.
I owe such a debt of gratitude to my family: Noah, Zach, and Gabe, thank you for unwavering support and all manner of help. Gabe, you are my story oracle. Thank you for your invaluable reads and feedback — and for bringing Eli to life in A Perfect Wedding! Unforgettable.
Kaylan Adair, my brilliant, beloved editor, you are a dream. Thank you for your devotion to my work and for the immeasurable ways you make me better. Working with you is a gift and a joy.
Huge thanks go to Mary Lee Donovan, Pam Consolazio, and the entire team at Candlewick. I couldn’t feel luckier.
Molly and John Cusick, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you’ve done for me.
Marieke Nijkamp, fierce warrior and earth angel, I can’t thank you enough for your incomparable vision, brilliance, and good-heartedness.
Rachel Solomon, I cannot remember how many early versions you read of this novel, but I thank you for all of your spot-on feedback and also for all the fun we had!
Susan Bickford, you were such a wonderful help and guide when I was navigating this story! Thank you for the years of support and friendship.
To my beautiful ogre Tena Russ, endless thanks for finding my title and fielding all my painting questions — and for all the years of life-affirming spicy lunches.
To Ashley Herring Blake, much gratitude for a very thoughtful read that led to some important changes. I am endlessly appreciative of all your generosity and goodness.
Helen Wiley, thank you for being so freaking smart, for your clear eye and weirdly deep well of information, and for your kind heart.
To Stephanie Kuehn and Stacey Lee, thank you for thoughtfully fielding questions of great specificity and importance.
So much love to all you amazing book bloggers, librarians, and readers. Thank you for all you do.
Rafe Posey, aka Pet, my steadfast friend and brilliant critique partner, thank you for always “getting” me, for always having all the nouns, and for always being yar in the pursuit of fish. (It is your CHIEF CONCERN.) I wouldn’t trade you for anything. You are a wonder and a treasure and you still amaze me every day.
To Audrey Coulthurst, aka Maud, the most amazing writing spouse/coauthor/promo person/tech assistant/support system/eating companion/cocktail cohort/friend anyone ever had, there aren’t enough pages in this entire book to express how grateful I am to you. Thank you for every laugh, every inappropriate unrepeatable, every MM, every good oyster, every bad idea, every fiery chile, every fix, every entrusted feeling, every encouragement, every morning tweet, every bizarre action, every translation, every coffee spew, every hatched plan. Thank you for being mine.
And finally, for various reasons, much gratitude to: Dahlia Adler, Jessica Bayless, Bonnie Blackburn, Mia Drelich, Kathleen Glasgow, Jessica Golub, Karen Hattrup, Emily Henry, Leofranc Holford-Strevens, Brian Katcher, Kerry Kletter, Katie Locke, Adriana Mather, Mark O’Brien, Caleb Roehrig, Deanna Roy, Rachel Simon, Kali Wallace, Sybil Ward, Elissa Whiteman, and Jeff Zentner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2018 by Paula Garner
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2018
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number pending
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