“I’m not a master chef,” he told her. He’d obtained a culinary art certification. That was all.
He looked at her tablet.
Made a cursory visual pass. Then read every word in the headline.
She was handing him the tablet, so he took it. Heart sinking.
She wanted him to be on a reality cooking show. As in, television. Like he could just pick up a phone and volunteer.
Like he had a chance in...any chance at all of making it on the show.
“It’s that one filmed here.” Kelsey was up on her knees, beside him now. He swore he could still smell that sweet baby-powder scent that had entered their home with her thirteen years before. “In Palm Desert. Family Secrets. Remember, they had that Thanksgiving special where they chose the first one of this year’s contestants...”
He remembered.
He’d wanted to go to Disneyland over the holiday. Thanksgiving—a food day by all counts—was one of the hardest without Lil. Kelsey wasn’t bouncing back from her mother’s death at all. If anything, with the onset of puberty, her moroseness was getting worse. He’d thought to distract her by heading to the coast for the holiday.
Instead she’d been adamant, to the point of tears, which always suckered him, that they cook dinner together, with all the trappings, and spend the day watching cooking shows. To honor Lil.
“So now it’s open auditions for the other seven contestants. It’s right here in town, Dad. You want me to be excited about something? Audition for this show.” She’d scooted closer, was resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked at the tablet with him.
“You have to use your own family recipes,” she said as he sat there, feeling more lost, more alone, than ever before. “It’s the recipes that are the real competition,” she went on, her voice gaining an energy that seemed to encompass their entire world.
“There’s an audition, and then four weeks of competition between eight candidates. Then whoever wins at least one of the four competitions goes to the final round. Each week you’re given a category and you have to make your family recipe with a secret ingredient. It says here that the candidates have to appear for one day of extraneous taping, too, before the competition starts.”
She was setting him up to let her down. He could see it so clearly even if she couldn’t. There was no way he was good enough to compete against real chefs.
“You can use Mom’s recipes, Dad! It’s a way for her to get what she wanted—to have her cooking recognized and appreciated. It’s a way to keep her alive. Like make her immortal or something. You have to do this...”
It was best to be honest with her. To face the tough stuff head-on. He’d been told. And he also just knew...
“I can’t.”
She slouched back. “I knew you’d say that.” There was no accusation in her tone. Just resignation. “That’s why I didn’t say anything before. It’s probably too late anyway. The auditions are this weekend and they were only taking walk-ons, without preregistering, if they had space.”
She hadn’t been going to ask him. Until he’d told her they had to find something to be excited about.
Lil, if you can hear me, now’s the time to jump in. What happens if I try and fail? Do I send our baby girl further into the dark hole she can’t seem to climb out of?
Will your recipes sustain me? Us?
“I was going to say I can’t force them to take me on.” He improvised while he waited for some kind of sign from above.
He’d take one from below or beside if it was clear enough.
Kelsey stared at him. And he could have sworn there was a glimmer of light in her blue eyes. His eyes.
“I took some classes, Kels. I do well enough here at home. I’m nowhere near the cook your mom was. TV? That’s for people like your mom. Real chefs. With real experience. And the auditions will be judged by people who are used to eating from the best of the best. All of which is completely out of my control.” He couldn’t make this happen for her.
“Like Mom always said, cooking is a lot about artistic talent, about knowing what foods go good together and stuff. She always said you had that talent, too.” Her tone wasn’t pushy. Or even persuasive. She sounded like a lost little girl. “Besides, this show is about the recipes. And Mom’s are the best.”
“And I might not be able to do them justice.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d let Lil down. Or Kelsey, either, though he hoped she never knew just how badly he’d let them both down.
“You tell me that the important thing is to try.”
“I have no problem with trying, Kels. I’ll go to the audition.” He would?
Her mouth dropped open.
“But you have to understand that I might not win. And if I don’t, you have to be willing to find something else to get excited about.”
What was he doing, here?
“You’re going to do it?” She didn’t move. Just sat there. Staring at him. But the glisten in her eyes told him that he had to grant her request.
“And you’re going to help me,” he said, speaking the words that came to him as they presented themselves. “We have three days...” He’d have to cancel his appearance at a fund-raiser for the clinic Wednesday night. And dinner with the Montgomerys, friends of his and Lil’s who still continued to invite him and Kelsey over on a regular Friday-night basis. “You are in charge of choosing the recipe for the audition. I’ll make it each night this week, under your supervision, and you taste the finished results and give me feedback.”
“I’ll do all the dishes,” Kelsey said, still just watching him.
“Okay.”
“Okay? As in you’re really going to audition?”
“I’ll call tomorrow and get myself on the schedule.” There was a special slot for locals, he’d just read. And according to the website, which had been updated that day, there was still an opportunity to sign up. Which Kelsey must have known, too. Since she’d also read the website’s advertisement.
She was staring at him. “For real.”
“I said I would.” And he always did what he’d told her he’d do. Even if he was a few minutes late on rare occasions.
“Woooooo-hoooo!” Her scream hurt his ears. And warmed him up so much he laughed out loud as he caught her flying toward him. Her hug was heaven.
And Burke warned fate that it better not let him let her down.
Not this time.
Not again.
THE FAMILY SECRETS cooking show had been on for five years yet still received the highest ratings of any cooking show on television. But it wasn’t the program’s ratings that had prompted Janie to choose the best of the best in her attempt to give her son every shot at living a full and productive life. No, it had been desperation. And proximity. The show was local. And had run a contest before the Thanksgiving holiday that allowed people to just send in a recipe to compete.
She hadn’t had to audition