Down Home Cooking, page 1
Down Home Cooking
A Modern Mail-Order Bride- Book 15
Olivia Gaines
Davonshire House Publishing
PO Box 5027
Augusta, GA 30916
THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.
© 2022 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin
Copy Editor: Teri Thompson Blackwell
Cover: Corbin Media
Olivia Gaines Make Up and Photograph by Latasla Gardner Photography
ASIN: B0BV1C49LR
ISBN: 9798389828575
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 10 9 8
First Davonshire House Publishing April 2023
Also by Olivia Gaines
The Blakemore Files
The Delgado Series
Killers
Yunior
Becoming the Czar
The Technicians Series
Blind Date
Blind Hope
Blind Luck
Blind Fate
Blind Copy
Blind Turn
Blind Seed
Blind Side
Blind Spot (Coming Winter 2022)
Love Thy Neighbor Series
Walking the Dawg: A Novella
Through the Woods: A Novella
Life of the Party: A Novella
A Blue Christmas: A Novella
Modern Mail-Order Brides
North to Alaska
Montana
Oregon Trails
Wyoming Nights
On a Rainy Night in Georgia
Bleu, Grass, Bourbon
Buckeye and the Babe
The Tennessee Mountain Man
Stranded in Arizona
Maple Sundaes and Cider Donuts
Moonlight in Vermont
Sunflowers and Honey
Katherine Moves to Kansas
The Zelda Diaries
It Happened Last Wednesday
A Frickin' Fantastic Friday
A Tantalizing Tuesday
A Marvelous Monday
A Saucy Sunday
A Sensual Saturday
My Thursday Throwback
Slivers of Love Series
The Deal Breaker
Naima's Melody
Santa's Big Helper
The Christmas Quilts
Friends with Benefits
The Cost to Play
A Menu for Loving
Thursdays in Savannah
DEDICATION
For the six-year-old who claims to hate everything, until I cook it,
and then I am the best cook in the world.
“Easy reading is damn hard writing.”
Nathaniel Hawthorne
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To all the fans, friends, and supporters of the dream, as well as the Facebook community of writers who keep me focused, inspired, and moving forward.
Write On!
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Prelude
Chapter 1- Baking
Chapter 2- Brewing
Chapter 3- Browning
Chapter 4- Heating
Chapter 5- Grilling
Chapter 6- Simmering
Chapter 7- Steaming
Chapter 8- Steeping
Chapter 9- Stewing
Chapter 10- Toasting
Chapter 11- Sizzling
Chapter 12- Roasting
Chapter 13- Frying
Epilogue
Book Club Questions
Excerpt
Husking for Nebraska
Chapter 1- Husking
Meet Olivia Gaines
Guess who this is?
Follow the Series
Blackberry Mojito
Pomegranate Tea
Prelude
It is said that Hattie Rose Reynolds was so mean that on the day she departed this Earth, she entered hell, slapped Satan in the face, and demanded he bring the woman an ice cream cone. However, it is also said for every action, there is a reaction, and the counteraction of Hattie Rose was her daughter Demeter, a sweet young lady with the disposition of an angel.
No matter where Demeter went or what she touched, everything seemed to bloom in her presence. The town of Marked Tree, Arkansas, about 35 minutes west of Memphis, is said to have shrunk by 300 people the day Demeter left for California. Rumors abound that when Demeter rolled out of Marked Tree, Hattie Rose’s heart began to shrivel, until finally, no one could stand to be around the woman.
Others have said that due to Hattie Rose’s bitterness, it was far too late to do anything about her health. The cancer had taken root, burrowing its way through the marrow in her bones, eating her from the inside out. Even the man she had once loved, Coach Joe Reynolds, had given up on the gal years after the birth of the daughter, coming through every week for a visit and spend time with his baby girl. He did that, each week, until she left for college. Even after she moved to California, he called each week, the same time when he used to come for in person visits to talk to his sweet daughter.
Joe Reynolds was also the one who made the call to Demeter, asking her to come home and see about her Ma. The same day she got the call, it has been stated Ms. Demeter loaded up her Volkswagen and started the drive East, coming home to Marked Tree as the dutiful daughter. Upon arrival, what Demeter found was a dying town, a broken father, and a mother consumed by such rage and hate, the sweetness in Demeter was withering, and she barely could stand at the end of the day from the fighting to stay positive.
Positivity kept ahold of Demeter, even after her mother’s cancer went into remission, and the only job Demeter could get in town was as the Lunch Lady at the elementary school. Each morning, she donned her uniform and went to work, smiling at the children and making bland meals of canned veggies palatable. Each afternoon, she came home to listen to her mother complain about the weather, the mailman, Ms. Essie who lived three blocks to the rear of Hattie Rose, and her inability to grow a decent rose bush in her yard. Ironically, upon the death of Hattie Rose, the bushes blossomed. A year later, after Hattie’s departure, the roses were almost show worthy in size and color, making Demeter proud of her work.
One day, after digging in the dirt and adding B-12 to the fungus infested rose bushes, a dirty faced Demeter walked into town to a find a green awning on an old building had been washed and cleaned. The windows, previously covered in years of soot and grime, sparkled in the morning sun. Inside the building, which had the doors opened to vent out the smell of old wood and stale air, stood a bearded man. He wasn’t from around those parts and when he looked up at Demeter, he spotted what everyone in the town could also see.
It is said that on this day, the town of Marked Tree began a rebirth, a jolting start to renewal with a little out of the way place, a small eatery which drew people from miles around to have lunch, dinner, or feast on an out of this world Sunday brunch. The bright green awning never had words on it, but in that same window where Demeter had spotted the man with the beard is the name of restaurant which features some of the best fusion dishes laced with down home cooking a tongue can happily devour. At the door or behind the counter you can find Demeter, ready with a greeting, inviting you inside with the customary greeting, “Welcome to Qué Bolá, Ya’ll!”
She’s also inviting you inside her journey to happiness. Turn the page and come on in to meet Mateo Zingales and Demeter Reynolds, owners of a Cuban and soul food restaurant, thirty-five minutes West of Memphis. They promise, you’ll leave with a warmth in your soul and full belly.
Chapter 1- Baking
Mid-level heels clacked on the hot New York sidewalk as the lady clad in all white wandered down the long city block, looking for the offices of Perfect Match. She didn’t have an appointment. Initially, she’d thought to call, but as of late, her mind was all over the place, and a getaway sounded like a good idea. Plus, she hadn’t been back to New York in several years, making this Tuesday morning as good a day as any to change her life.
The offices she eventually found had a non-descript front door and lettering which was barely at eye level. A body had to know where to look if they planned to find the Perfect Match. Today, her goal was to find the offices, take the test, and get her a man, a particular man who was meant for her, and her alone.
A bell jangled as she entered the front door of an office space that had no smell and was decorated in muted colors. The office appeared empty as Demeter Reynolds stood in the entryway. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for clues to make it all form some sense of reality as to why she’d made such a decision on a whim to be in this chance of a location to match with a man she’d already met who signed up at this agency to get himself a wife. Her intense gaze started on the left of the room, and her eyes took in the pink flowered wallpaper that should have come down years ago. To hide the rips in the paper, a series of family photos lined the walls. Demeter moved closer to the photos, swearing she saw the eyes of the one lady standing next to the wagon heading West looking back at her.
Speaking to herself, she asked, “What in the name of buttered biscuits?”
De meter leaned forward, staring at the photo as if daring the woman to blink, and after several minutes of losing the I see you contest, she moved to the next photo. Immediately, she noticed the uncanny resemblance between the women in each picture. Demeter bumped into the edge of a desk as she came to the last photo of a woman with eyes so green, they nearly sparkled, but what threw her off was the room, again the office had no smell.
Another question popped into her head as she sniffed the air, “How can an entire room have no scent?”
As she asked the question, she turned to find a woman standing directly behind her. Demeter jumped a foot in the air, she yelled at the woman, “Dear Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Judas Iscariot, and Simon Zelotes! You just scared two apostles out of me and a Samarian foot washer!”
Demeter’s hand pressed into her ample bosom as she looked at the woman, who appeared to look exactly like all the other women in the photos on the wall.
“I am Coraline Newair, the owner of Perfect Match,” the lady said, “and you don’t have an appointment. I only work by appointment.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called, but there are times in a woman’s life when she has to poo or get off the pot,” Demeter said. “My days of constipation are over. I’m off the pot and placing my life in your hands. I need a change. I don’t want anything drastic, just a partner to travel this road of life. A nice guy who comes home at night and wants to be there with me. I came hoping you would see me.”
“I see you,” Coraline responded, “but I only work by appointment.”
“Can I set an appointment and come back tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I am flying out to Nebraska to meet with a mayor who is planning a run for governor and needs a wife,” Coraline said, “so no.”
The disappointment on the woman’s face was enough to make Coraline take a moment to re-evaluate her initial response. In the woman, she felt deception, but there was also a trace of something pure that overtook all else. Out of curiosity, she decided to see which was which. Coraline extended her hand for a shake.
“Let’s start over; I’m Coraline,” she said, taking Demeter’s hands into her own. Jolts of electricity ran up her arms when their hands touched. The deception was there, but also the purity of her cause. Now, the matchmaker was truly interested in why the woman had come. “Let’s get you behind the computer and see what happens.”
“Right now? I get to take the matchmaking test?”
“Sure,” Coraline answered, waving her hand, and a computer in the corner came to life. “Take a seat, and let’s get started.”
“Eek! This is so exciting. At the end of this, I’m going to have me a man!” Demeter said, taking a seat.
Coraline provided instructions and Demeter set to work. In the background, Coraline put on a pot of tea, warmed a few scones in the toaster oven, and waited for the lie to reveal itself, which it always did. The woman’s reason for being at the offices of Perfect Match, as she stated, was obvious. However, she didn’t mention or explain how she knew about the service, who had referred her, or how she knew about the matchmaking exams.
In her line of work, she’d come across all types of scammers, shammers, women on the run, women with a bun in the oven, and women looking to find a man to get rich quick. Those she could sniff out like an old coon dog. This woman wanted a specific man as her husband, and she was prepared to game Coraline’s system to get it. After years and years of being in this office, seeing all the happily ever afters, the happy for nows, or just the plain and simple happy, she knew what to look for in potential brides. This woman had every intention of matching with a particular man with whom she was already acquainted. Sitting back and watching the screen, Demeter had come to the end of the assessment, and the four grey boxes were on the screen.
Coraline watched as she clicked the continue button and the four faces was revealed. Based on Demeter’s reaction, she had matched with the man she came to get. She turned in the chair, smiling at Coraline, who didn’t return the warmth.
“Him!” she said, smiling wider. “He’s the one I choose.”
The tea in the delicate cup had grown cold. So had Coraline toward the woman. The radiant grin on Demeter’s face faded as the previously bright green eyes darkened to a deep emerald, and suddenly the great idea which brought her to New York didn’t seem too bright.
“Spit it out,” Coraline said.
Eyes that attempted to be innocent grew wide at the accusation. Demeter again touched her ample breast. “I’m sorry, spit what out?”
“The real reason you’re here is to match with him. You answered the questions the same way another person recently answered and got the same exact matches. That has never happened since I’ve worked in this office,” she said, “so spit it out or get out!”
“You want the long version or the short version?”
“Make it short, like my patience,” Coraline told her.
Demeter exhaled loudly, “See, what had happened was....”
THE EMBARRASSMENT OF getting caught bounced through Demeter like a wayward lightning strike of shame. Her hand was deep in the cookie jar, but there was a reasonable explanation for her actions. If she could sum it up quickly for the matchmaker, she’d try.
“I live in Marked Tree,” she started to say. “I was walking through town and spotted his restaurant or at least the start of it. I’m a food stylist. I know, I know, but I had a good life in Los Angeles and made great money, but my mother took ill so I came home to Arkansas.”
Coraline rose, allowing the silky fabric of her skirt to unfold as she stood. The material draped from her small waist and pooled around her ankles. She listened intently as she refilled her teacup and poured one for Demeter as well.
“The past year I’ve been taking care of my mother, and the only job I could get in town was as the middle school lunch lady. I have no prejudices about my employment. Lord knows those kids deserve something better than just a can of opened green beans, so I try to make a difference at mealtimes,” she said, sighing. “That meal at lunch may be the only decent meal those kids are getting in the course of their day.”
“And the man in question?” Coraline asked.
“Well, I walked by the establishment and remembered it from my childhood. The place hadn’t been operational in nearly twenty years,” she said, “I was curious as to his plan, and let me tell you, he looked up at me and I listened to the little birds chirping and spotted a rose petal burst open and bloom, and I heard three crickets in the bushes getting freaky.”
Coraline found herself smiling at the woman. She wanted her to keep going. Demeter fidgeted with her hands as she spoke, continuing to explain herself.
“Ms. Coraline, I introduced myself and simply asked, ‘What are you planning to do here,’ and do you know what he asked me?”
Fully invested in the nonsense of it all, Coraline asked, “What did he ask you, Demeter?”
“He said, ‘Qué bolá!’ In Cuban Spanish, it means what’s up or something like that; maybe what again, I’m not sure but I was intrigued. We started a conversation about food, and two hours later, there I was with a cleaning rag in my hand, talking and working side by side with this man,” Demeter said sighing.
Coraline still didn’t trust the woman. She frowned, something she seldom allowed her face to do in public or private. Her patience was growing thin and she inquired, “Then why are you here?”
“Bad luck!” Demeter laughed softly again, embarrassed at her own honesty. “I have the worst luck with men. The absolute worst luck in life really, and my mother, God rest her troubled soul, didn’t help my lot in this world. People tolerate me because they felt sorry for a poor fool like me who came out of that woman’s vag.”
“You digress, Demeter,” Coraline told her. “How did you know he was a part of my program, and how did you know how to answer the questions to get the exact answers to duplicate those results?”
Coraline fully expected her to lie. She’d never known anyone to cheat on a matchmaking test. Moreover, it made no sense to cheat to match with a man Demeter had already met.
