Jonathan

I enter the grocery store with a mental list of what to get for dinner. I could almost smell the clam bake in my kitchen. My grandmother was a tough cookie, but there was one thing that everyone that knew her can agree on - she was a great cook. The clam bake was a recipe she passed down to my mother, who then passed it to me along with other merits that would make me a great husband; or at least that’s what she kept saying to me whenever she wanted to teach me something.

After getting hold of a shopping cart, I pass by the deep purple eggplants, the translucent green celery, and the savory aroma of herbs in their plastic display tubs. I grab a bunch of fresh thyme and then head to the corn, onions, and potato stand. As I make my way to the pasta aisle for a bottle of white wine, I spy Mayor Carolla with her son, Sam, holding up a bag of cherries. I double back and round the dried fruit and nuts shelf

I know for a fact that she’ll stop me to ask me again for the documentation on the last council meeting. Mayor Carolla had the infuriating habit of wanting to look at the notes I took for the meetings and question my logic behind them. She was a perfectionist and didn’t trust her own staff to do their work right. It was a good job, but there were days that I questioned whether I can do better.

Managing to slip away without being seen, I found the white wine. In the meat department, I found a package of chorizo. My grandmother loved the kick from the spicy sausage. She would recount her stories of visiting the Iberian coast and sampling chorizo from various parts of Spain, swearing that they all tasted different.

After her weeks visit, my grandmother would bring back a few bits of chorizo on her sail boat, the Sea Comber. She took many adventures on that boat until it got damaged in a storm a couple of years ago and a few years after she bequeathed to me on her death bed. I promised her that I would fix it and go on trips. I remember her smiling at me after I made that promise and she told me to make sure to go with someone because it can get lonely out in the big ocean.

At the seafood area, I bypass the packaged clams and mussels and go to the counter. A great clam bake is made with the freshest seafood, and I know the market brought in the best from the sea this morning. I can see Jimmy tending the counter.

“Hey, Jimmy,” I call out to him.

Jimmy turns and waves. He swings his arms as he approaches and his mustache curves up when he smiles.

“Jonathan, my seafoodie friend!” He says and slaps the top of the counter.

“What do have today?”

“Well, this morning we got a haul of sea bass, clams, and mussels.”

“I’ll take a pound each of the last two.”

Jimmy winks and sets himself up with a fresh pair of gloves. Dipping his hand into the refrigerated display, he continues to talk.

“So, what’s the occasion for whipping up your grandmammie’s dish?”

“Nothing special, really,” I say as I look over at the other seafood.

“Right. It’s not going to be a dinner for two, then?” Jimmy says as he places the clams into a weighing bowl on top of the counter.

I glance around to see if anyone was nearby.

“Well, I was hoping that maybe someone would come by to help me eat it.”

“I do get out in a couple of hours, I can be at your place by six.”

I stare at Jimmy, wondering if he was serious.

Jimmy chuckles and adds, “You know I’m teasing you right? I know it’s for a special lady.”

I cringe as I look about, still no one was near to hear.

“If this dish doesn’t hook her, then I don’t know what will. Maybe your charm?” Jimmy says as he hands me the seafood.

I laugh and thank him.

There are only two cashiers and both have two to three people in line. I decide to go to Cassandra’s because of what Lorelei had said happened to her. It’s finally my turn after having picked up a tin of Altoids and a Times magazine, two things that weren’t on my list. I start placing my items on the conveyor and I glance at Cassandra, who smiles and says hello.

“Hi, how are you?” I say, placing the last item on the belt.

“Alright and yourself?” She says and begins scanning.

It always amazes me how the scanning works. A cashier scans each item with a wave of their hand and it goes into the internal Coastal Grocery system. There’s no shared system with the Outside, except for inventory, which I haven’t figured out how they do that yet. I find it similar to the town’s data system. My notes are taken with a floating pen onto a tablet and it transfers to a computer where I look it over for mistakes.

“How’s the day treating you so far? I try coaxing her for details.

“Earlier it was terrible. I had Robert trying to push an expired coupon. But now that he’s gone.” Cassandra says and she lifts her shoulders.

“Yeah, he’s not very pleasant is he?”

Cassandra doesn’t say anything and I realize that it was a stupid question.

“I hope the rest of your day goes well,” I say as I bag the last of my items.

She looks up at me from placing my corn into one of my bags and smiles.

The sun is hugging the cove in its pink and orange embrace. I can’t see the ocean from the cul de sac that I live on, but I could imagine how beautiful it is during this time of day. I used to walk the beach with my mom, when she was ill. The last couple of years were rough, when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. With all the magic that runs through Spellbound Cove, it can’t be used to cure people. Sometimes I still get mad about it.

The ingredients from the grocery are spread out before me and a huge pot is waiting on the stove. I mince the thyme and the smell wafts through the kitchen and it takes me back to my grandmother. She would have me rub the thyme between my small fingers to get the aroma out. She called me the Little Kitchen Helper and I would help with handing her things and tasting. I was probably three years old when we started cooking together. My mom would watch from the threshold, smiling. It was just the three of us then.

Everything is placed in layers - liquid first, then potatoes, onions, chorizo and corn to top it off. I place the lid and do the ritual of rubbing my hands together. My grandmother didn’t teach me that, it was something I picked up from watching her do it and I believed that it was part of the cooking process.

I stare at the landline phone in the hallway. There are no cellphones in Spellbound Cove and I don’t miss it. The last time I was on the Outside, I found it annoying navigating the city with people on their phones, distracted. This town is easy going and the only distractions are the beach and the library.

My hand rests on the phone on the wall. I notice my mother’s figurine on the side table is crooked and I fix it. The table has a layer of dirt and I wipe it with a kitchen clothe. The kitchen clothe is stained and I go to the laundry room to toss it into the hamper. Through the back door, I see through the window that the family of rabbits have shown up. I dig into the cupboard near the door and pull out some food for them.

I’m back at the phone. I check the time. The clam bake should be done in about ten minutes, that should be enough time. I remember to check myself in the mirror. I sprint to the half bath and glance at my dark hair and teeth. My hand is on the phone again. I scan the room to see if there is anything out of the ordinary and then I see it. The stack of books from the library is sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

I pick them up and I toss it into the tote bag near the front door. I don’t want her to see what I’ve been reading or more like researching on. With titles like Getting the Love You Want and The 5 Love Languages it would definitely send a signal. I take a deep breath as I usually do whenever I call. The phone is ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jolene. It’s me Jonathan.”

“Hi, Jonny!” She says. I love it when she calls me Jonny.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” I say as my stomach clenches hoping she is not with someone. She is single and it’s Sunday night after all.

“I’m grading papers. I fell behind this week.”

“Oh.”

“What’s up.”

“I was hoping you would like to come over for dinner. I made a Clam Bake.”

“Your grandma’s famous Clam Bake? What’s the special occasion?” Jolene says and I wonder why the Clam Bake is considered a meal eaten for a special occasion.

“Nothing special. I just haven’t had it for a while and there’s plenty of it.”

There’s a pause.

“Well, I kind of had dinner already. Which my Mac n cheese would not hold its own against the Clam Bake.” She says and I can hear her tinkling giggle.

“I see. Maybe some other time then?”

“Of course! Maybe the weekend after next?”

I pause wondering why it couldn’t be the following.

“Sure. I’ll probably make something else, unless you really want the Clam Bake.” After I say that, I realize how silly that sounded.

“I’m fine with whatever you make,” Jolene says.

“Ok, then. Well, I’ll let you go back to your papers.”

“Great, I’ll see you then. Bon appetit, mon cheri!”

“Bon nuit! Adieu,” I follow along.

“Bon nuit!” And the phone goes dead.

I place the receiver back on the wall. The Clam Bake is about done and I pu

Drll out a plate for one. My mind sticks with what Jolene said about pushing the get together to the weekend after. I wonder if there is someone else and how long she has been seeing them. I also think about how they met and where they met. I would like to think that Jolene would have told me if she met someone. We have known each other for about twenty- five years now.

We went to Lydia Smith K-12, had other friends, yet we always managed to hold on to our friendship. Then we went to college on the Outside, we didn’t keep in touch that much, even though we tried. Her sabbatical was much longer than mines, since she decided to extend it to traveling. I came back to take care of my grandmother and then my mother.

When Jolene came back something inside me knew that what I felt for her was more than friendship. She had confidence, smarts, and she grew into the features I used to tease her about. Her bright freckles faded into a hint of color that shown when she smiled. Her short hair grew into waves that shook when she laughed. And her once long arms and legs grew in with her shapely figure.

I fill my plate up with the Bake and I grab one of the library books before sitting down to eat. Outside, the crickets started up adding to the forlorn atmosphere. Through the window I can see the sky has turned into a mixture of dark blue and remaining light.

I was hoping that she would be sitting across from me, yet I’m alone with a book that I’m hoping would give me advice on how to get Jolene to love me as much as I love her.