Weddings and Wasabi Read online

  “But you don’t have any more basil, right?” Venus asked.

  “Actually, I Googled it a few days ago—right after I discovered about the goat milk—and found out that a day spa in Sonoma has released a product using Malaysian basil extract as its main ingredient. I emailed the dermatologist researcher to ask her about her plants, and she called me. I told her about Pookie and the wedding, and she offered to let me take a few dozen plants in exchange for me cooking dinner one night for her family.”

  “So you can make this for the wedding?” Trish had already finished her second helping.

  “I think so. I don’t need much of the goat’s milk for the sauce. If I can get two gallons off of Pookie the two days before the wedding, I’ll have enough.”

  “Hooray!” Trish wiggled in a happy dance while sitting in her chair. “Can I have more?”

  Jenn pushed the platter toward her. “But the goat’s milk discovery isn’t the only reason why I think God wants me to form my own catering business. My employees”—it seemed so professional to call them employees!—“are working out really well. We’re a good team. We’re almost like a family.”

  “Even Mimi?” Trish asked, a bit skeptical.

  “Mimi’s been great. She’s great in the kitchen—and after helping Aunty at the restaurant for so many years, it’s no wonder. She also has a great eye for presentation and she’s had great ideas.”

  Jenn took a deep breath. “And if those things weren’t enough, I’ve been praying a lot. And I feel a weird sort of peace when it comes to my business. I think God is saying this is what He wants me to do.”

  The look Edward gave her was a warm ocean swell, washing over her, buoying her up, surrounding her completely. “I’m glad, Jenn. I’ve been praying for you, too.”

  A man who prayed. She really couldn’t think of anything more attractive.

  They helped Jenn wash up, and then Trish suggested a movie. “My mom has Elyssa, and Spenser’s spending ‘man time’ with his son, Matthew, so I’m free all afternoon.”

  “I can’t.” Jenn put the rinsed frying pan in the dish rack. “I have to pick up Mom from Japantown in about an hour.”

  “Japantown?” Trish frowned. “I saw her there yesterday.”

  Hmm. That was strange. Jenn shrugged. “She was out of the house early this morning and said she’d need me to pick her up this afternoon at three.”

  At that moment, her cell phone rang. “Oh, it’s Mom. Hello?”

  “Jenn?” The voice quavered.

  “Mom? What’s wrong?” Did she get mugged or something? Why did she sound so scared?

  “I need you to pick me up.”

  “Sure. Where are you? The Asian supermarket? Or the mochi shop?”

  “I’m at the oncologist’s office.”

  Plunk. That was Jenn’s stomach splattering on the floor. “You told me you were going to Japantown.” Her voice was strained, high.

  It made Trish, Venus, and Edward all glance at her with concerned looks. Trish silently mouthed, What’s wrong?

  “I didn’t want to worry you. The doctor called this morning and asked me to come in.”

  Mom had had a routine exam last week. “What about?”

  “Jenn.” Her voice was soft now, thready. “The cancer’s back.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Edward rushed to catch her as her legs collapsed under her. She shook violently in his arms, but her hand clenched the cell phone. “Are they sure? Are they sure it’s back?”

  Venus gasped and turned white. She glanced at Trish. “Her mom’s cancer,” she whispered.

  The word was like an iron claw twisting his heart. He’d lost Papa a few years ago, but the grief still burst upon him every so often, shredding his soul. It had been horrible watching him die so slowly.

  “Mom, calm down.” Jenn swallowed, her eyes frantic but not seeing anything in front of her. “Don’t worry. We’ll get the money somehow.”

  But her voice broke slightly, as if only a thread of willpower held her back from hysterical sobbing. She sagged against him, barely standing on her own legs. Barely aware he held her.

  “Okay. Bye.” The cell phone clattered to the kitchen floor.

  Edward maneuvered her to a stool next to the island in the middle of the kitchen. She swayed and he held out his arms warily, wondering if she were going to pass out.

  “Jenn?” Trish touched her shoulder, and Jenn started.

  “It’s back,” she whispered.

  “We heard,” Venus said gently.

  “I feel like I’ve been dunked in ice water,” she said, her teeth starting to chatter.

  “It’s the shock,” Venus told her.

  “I can’t feel my feet. Or my hands. Or my head.” Jenn shivered once violently. “But there’s so much I need to do. See how much we have in savings. Call Mom’s insurance company. The premium is so high … they raised their rates …”

  Venus clenched Jenn’s hand tightly. “Don’t worry about that now. We’ll help you through this.”

  Jenn nodded, but dumbly. “I need to go pick her up from the doctor’s office. Her boyfriend drove her there this morning but he’s working right now.”

  “You’re not driving anywhere.” Edward was surprised at how forceful his voice came out. “I’ll drive your car for you. Just tell me where to go.”

  She looked at him for the first time since receiving the phone call. Her eyes frightened him—like the dark cave entrance into a tomb. “Thanks.” She still wasn’t quite present with them, still in shock.

  “Don’t worry about the money,” Venus told her. “I can lend you whatever you need.”

  Jenn shook her head. “We borrowed from you last time.”

  “And you paid me back.”

  “But this time …” She swallowed hard. “I have no job.” And finally a tear fell, but she clumsily brought a hand up to swipe it away. She stood up, and although she wasn’t completely stable, she seemed able to walk. “I have to go pick Mom up.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Trish said.

  Jenn shook her head. “Where will Mom sit?” And she walked out of the kitchen, followed by Edward.

  He drove her in silence to the doctor’s office in Palo Alto. He didn’t know what to say. All the things that came to mind sounded stupid or shallow or presumptuous, especially since he’d been so obvious when he had told her he wanted to be her friend.

  It hadn’t been true. He’d wanted to be much more than a friend, but he also hadn’t been sure that she wasn’t with him only to spite her family. He’d been afraid of being hurt, so he’d deliberately distanced himself from her.

  He’d been a moron.

  And now, when she needed someone, he had forfeited any right to comfort her or help her. All he could do was drive the stupid car for her.

  “Stop worrying,” she suddenly said. “You don’t have to say anything to me.”

  Had she been reading his mind?

  “After all, what can anybody say? And the silence is what I need right now.” She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

  He expected the rest of the ride to be quiet, but she almost immediately spoke. “I’ve failed.”

  “You haven’t failed anybody,” he responded hotly.

  “Yes, I—”

  “I know exactly what you’re feeling. I lost my father to cancer a few years ago.”

  The silence was heavy with emotion.

  “I should have listened to my family,” Jenn finally said. “I should have been a good daughter. What was the point in striking out on my own when all I’ve done is bring stress on my mom?”

  “You couldn’t have known this would happen. You said you felt God wanted you to do this.”

  “Maybe I misheard God. Maybe I only heard what I wanted to hear.”

  “All this is still not your fault.”

  “My head tells me it’s not my fault,” Jenn said. “But I can’t help feeling that I’ve failed Mom. I’ve failed God.”
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  “You can’t fail God,” Edward said. “Love never fails.”

  “I don’t love Him enough. I didn’t even ask Him before I told my Aunty off.”

  “You don’t need to love him ‘enough.’ He loves you enough for a thousand lifetimes.”

  She closed her eyes, then, and the tears started falling thick and fast, but silently.

  “You tried to please your family. And then you broke away and tried to please yourself.” Edward couldn’t seem to make his mouth stop. “But through it all, God still loves you.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You do your best to please God,” he said. “He’ll take care of the rest.” He had to believe that. He had seen it in his own pain. He had to believe it for her, too. Maybe his own belief, his own prayers, would somehow help her through this storm.

  “I don’t know what God wants.” She sighed, but it came out like a sob. “The walls are closing in. I don’t have any other options.” She took a deep breath that sounded as if it caused her pain. “I have to ask Aunty Aikiko for a job,” she said in a small voice.

  No, that just seemed wrong. “There has to be another way.”

  And a niggling idea formed in his mind. But a still voice inside him seemed to caution him. Jenn had jumped without asking God. Edward shouldn’t, either.

  “She can offer me a job right away.” Jenn swallowed hard. “A paycheck right away. What’s my pride in the face of Mom’s health?”

  He couldn’t answer her. He had a million things he wanted to say, but kept his mouth closed. If he could figure something out, he’d tell her.

  Until then, he’d pray.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Before Jenn could unlock her front door, Trish opened it. “Hi Aunty Yuki,” Trish greeted Jenn’s mom.

  “Oh, hello Trish.” Mom’s voice hadn’t lost that reedy tone.

  “I’ll leave you now,” Edward said, touching Jenn’s shoulder.

  She wanted him to stay. He was like a buoy in a choppy bay. But he was only a friend. And he was probably busy. And she had too many things she needed to do. “Thanks for driving.”

  “I’ll call you,” he said in a firm voice.

  It surprised her into meeting his gaze, which held hers. His voice had almost sounded like a promise.

  And then he was gone.

  Trish had made tea for Mom, but she shook her head. “I think I want to take a nap.”

  Trish and Jenn tucked her into bed. Jenn wanted to curl up in bed, too. Except all the same demons would be waiting for her when she woke up. Better to face them now.

  “Where’s Venus?” Jenn asked Trish as they returned to the kitchen. She drank some of the tea Mom had refused.

  “Her work called. She didn’t want to go, but I made her, since I was staying here.”

  Jenn let the porcelain cup warm her fingers. She was still cold.

  No, she didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. She went to pick up the cordless phone.

  “What are you doing?” Trish demanded.

  “I have to call Mom’s insurance.” Jenn searched for the number among the cards and papers taped to the refrigerator.

  “Not now.” Trish grabbed the phone from her. “We’re going for a walk.”

  “I can’t leave Mom.”

  “She’s not a toddler. You can leave her asleep in the house for a few minutes.”

  Trish bullied Jenn into putting on her tennis shoes.

  “You should be with your daughter,” Jenn grumbled.

  “She’s napping at my mom’s,” was Trish’s unruffled answer.

  They walked to the nearby park. When Trish tried to stop them at a bench, Jenn pressed on. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to do something. She had to do something or she’d shatter into a million shards of glass.

  But Trish grabbed her and plopped her down on the bench like a rag doll.

  “Trish,” Jenn protested.

  “You’re not getting away from me. You’re not getting away from God.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jenn slumped in the seat.

  Trish sat primly beside her. “I was praying while you were gone.”

  “Thanks,” Jenn mumbled.

  “And I kept feeling this urge to take you to this park. To sit you on this bench. And to just wait.”

  “Wait for what?” She didn’t want to play games, not when Trish was in her ultra-spiritual mode.

  “You tell me.” And Trish shut her mouth and stared at the trees.

  This was stupid. Jenn fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans. She’d already said it all to God while in the car with Edward. God was probably tired of listening to her.

  But have you listened to Me?

  The words welled up in her, bubbling up from a deep, secret place inside her.

  She had nothing to say in reply.

  The bench faced an empty playground, and beyond that, a line of redwood trees. A faint breeze fingered through her hair.

  It was quiet here. Despite the breeze, there was a strong stillness over everything. Even the birdsong was muted.

  Be still and know that I am God.

  And so she did.

  She emptied her racing thoughts. She listened to the hushed gossip of the tree branches high overhead.

  And then Trish started to sing.

  Jenn knew the song. “Every Time I Breathe” by Big Daddy Weave.

  She breathed deep, smelling the faint musk of the redwoods, the tang of freshly mowed grass.

  And as Trish sang, suddenly Jenn felt the presence of God.

  Not a physical presence. But she knew they weren’t alone. And it felt like a hand cupped her aching, throbbing heart with coolness. Stillness.

  Trish’s song grew louder. She was completely unashamed. She was opening herself up, baring herself to Jesus, who was somehow right there with them—a soft presence, and yet a powerful presence. A presence that made Jenn feel small.

  But loved.

  Small and loved. And suddenly that didn’t seem so small.

  The God who grew the redwoods above them, whose breath stirred the light breeze, loved her. And if He loved her, He’d take care of her.

  Life was hard. But God would take care of her.

  It seemed such a simple realization. Almost trite. But in light of Trish’s gusty singing—her vulnerability that seemed to reflect the light of Jesus’ face—it was a natural thing for Jenn to understand after all that had happened today. Over the past several weeks, actually.